Chapter 14
Ronan
Flames flare bright, shadows dancing on Cameron’s face as he stands mesmerized beside the van, the blistering heat warming our skin even at a distance. “Do you think the trees will catch fire?” he asks, the flickering orange glow reflecting off his glasses.
“With the little rain we’ve had this year? Probably. It won’t go past this grove, though.” Too much dead soil and barren land waits beyond the trees, so I’m confident the embers will die within this small area.
He frowns, still staring at the fire. “It’s a shame it had to burn.”
After I dislodged my sword from Commander Bravis’s neck, I carried the two bodies into the house, piling them on top of the couch where I’d just slept. Blood stained my clothes once more, so we spent a few minutes in the creek scrubbing skin, weapons, and my armor. Whatever we didn’t need—particularly anything that might condemn us—was tossed into the pile to burn.
Gas was poured over the bodies inside, siphoned from the sedan, in a move that felt poetic as I struck the match. Now we stand outside the fire’s reach, watching as it turns to ash.
The house.
The bodies.
My old life.
That’s why I took you…
The memories fade as I force myself into the present. “It’s time to go.” Cameron nods, tearing his eyes from the inferno in front of us.
Supplies fill the trunk of the van that Commander Bravis was driving, and Boomerang is already on the middle bench. Her tail wags with a steady thump, thump, as she waits for us to get moving. The tracker was right where he said it would be, a small, circular device stuck inside the fuel tank door.
Easy enough to remove, and even easier to toss into the fire.
Cameron sits in the passenger seat as I climb in, both hands on the wheel. The engine rumbles to life beneath us, and besides the muted crackling of wood muffled through the windows, it’s quiet.
It hits me, then—the finality of the moment.
There’s no going back.
“Ronan?” Cameron’s hand is tentative as it reaches towards me, hovering for a moment before settling onto his thigh, fingers twitching. His voice holds the question, a fragile thing he doesn’t breathe life into. A hesitant edge in his tone that whispers his doubts, loud and clear.
It asks, Does he already regret this?
Will I be alone, after all ?
I respect him too much to lie, so I don’t offer false reassurances. There are no promises that everything will be fine, or that I’m not terrified. No insistence that I’m not mourning the loss of the life I’ve known since I was seventeen years old.
That truth is raw and heavy, and very real.
But there’s another very real truth that’s even more profound, and it’s one he needs to hear. “I will never leave you, Cameron.” He says nothing, just takes a shuddering breath and nods as I put the van into reverse.
The gas gauge needle sits happily next to Full , which is enough to get us far from here. Fuel is a commodity rarely found outside military bases and major cities, so we must be cautious of our consumption.
“Did you have a particular destination in mind?” Cameron asks, as though he’s reading my thoughts. The fire shrinks in the rearview mirror, its crackles long silenced. I merge onto the remnants of an old road, grateful to find the surface mostly intact.
“Away.”
Cameron’s defense mechanisms return front and center in the form of sass, and he slaps his palms together in a sarcastic slow clap. “Someone please give this man points for critical thinking. A-plus for planning.” Relieved by the absence of his insecurities, at least for now, I chuckle.
“Out here, you are far more experienced than I am. Is there any place that you can think of where we would be safe?”
“Nowhere is safe,” he mutters, and the protective instincts inside me bristle.
“You are always safe with me. ”
A snarky grin spreads across his mouth as I glance at him, my lip lifting as he gives my cheek a gentle tap. “Aww, is the big tough monster puffing his chest out? You going to show off those sharp little teefers?”
I tear my face away, rubbing my cheek. “You’re an ass.”
“Yeah,” he agrees with a sigh, and I can’t help my smile as he settles back into his seat. I like that he isn’t scared of me… that he can tease, and fight, and poke at me without a second thought.
After a few minutes of staring out the window into the darkness, he turns to me again. “Would the military return to a rebel camp after it’s been raided?”
I consider the question, a knot of unease tightening in my stomach at the thought of staying somewhere recently targeted. “Typically, no, but the drama surrounding this rebel group, and the sheer number of prisoners, make it too risky. One of them might inadvertently trigger a search party by mentioning something interesting in their camp. They’re desperate for a bargaining chip right now.”
“What about one that’s been empty longer?”
“How long are we talking?”
“Can’t say for sure. A few weeks ago, I passed an abandoned camp. Pretty good size, too. It didn’t look like anyone had lived there in a long time, but I didn’t go further than peeking inside the gates.” I glance at the gas gauge, dreading its move towards E. Our supplies will last us for several weeks, maybe more, but they’re useless if we’re forced to leave them behind.
“Where is this camp?” There’s a small range of distance I’d consider acceptable. It needs to be far enough from base to avoid detection, but not so far that we’d run out of fuel before arriving.
We need to stop and regroup, that much is an indisputable fact.
Exhaustion has settled in my bones, a deep, gnawing fatigue, and my wounds are screaming in protest. My eyelids are lead weights, and I’m fighting to keep them open so I don’t drift off to sleep.
Only sheer willpower keeps me going, but Cameron doesn’t need to know that.
He thinks about my question for a stretch, and I bite back a smile as he counts on his fingers. “Um, okay, so it’s been probably two and a half weeks since I passed by, so… eighteen days? If I travel twelve to fifteen miles a day, account for pit stops to scavenge and rest…”
His fingers fly again, and I scratch my face to hide my grin behind my hand. When he turns to me with a giant smile, he looks so proud that it physically hurts my chest. “It’s around two hundred and fifty miles from the camp I was taken from.”
Relief relaxes my grip on the steering wheel, because that’s easily within the range of the gas we have. “You can find this camp again?”
“If you get me to where your people took me from… then yeah, I think so,” he says, chewing his lip and scratching his fingernails along his jeans. “I mean, I know the direction I came from, and I make it a point to notice landmarks.” Worry creeps over his face as he moves from scratching at his pants to picking at them, and he stares at his fingers as he frowns. “I’ve never had someone else relying on me for this… ”
“Hey, there’s no reason to stress.” I reach over and put my hand over his, staring at the contrast between his tanned skin and the black leather of my glove. Even dressed in a casual t-shirt, I haven’t taken it off, and it’s not escaped my notice that he’s wearing his jacket on a hot night.
If this… thing … between us is ever going to go anywhere, we need to get over this fear of our marks.
“There is,” he insists, his other hand waving through the air. “There is literally every reason to stress. What if I can’t find it, and we run out of gas and are stranded in the middle of nowhere? You went through so much trouble to get these supplies… I mean, you pretty much beheaded a guy and then lit him up like a barbeque…” I cringe, recoiling at his blasé tone, although I suppose I should be thankful for his lack of fear.
“What if we lose everything because of me?” There it is—that insecurity he tries so hard to hide.
“Cameron,” I scold, twisting his hand and weaving our fingers together. “You’ve got this.”
“Why do you have so much faith in me?” His voice is small, eyes curious behind his glasses.
“Why don’t you? What reason have you ever given me to doubt you?” He stares at me for a long time, mind spinning, until he lets out a heavy breath and nods. “Say it. I want to hear you say you believe in yourself.” His expression scrunches into a scowl, but I only hike my brow at him and wait.
“Fuck, fine,” he mutters. “I’ve got this.” He pretends to be irritated, but his fingers wrap around mine, lips twitching as he tries not to smile. We fall into a peaceful silence as the road hums beneath us, dust zooming past in the beams of the headlights .
“What is the military doing, anyway?” he asks after a stretch. “Why did Bravis come after you?”
“Those are two very different questions. Bravis came after me because he couldn’t stand the fact that he didn’t know what was happening. His need for absolute control is what ended his life, but ultimately has nothing to do with the military’s plans.”
“Which are…?”
I shift in my seat, uncomfortable, as I consider the question. “I won’t pretend to know everything that’s going on. Elas and I both hold high ranks, but we are largely in charge of security or reconnaissance. There aren’t a whole lot of strategic meetings needed, and our orders are pretty cut and dry.”
“Orders straight from Bravis?”
“Yeah,” I drawl, stretching the word out as I try to remember the last time my orders came from anywhere other than his desk. It’s been decades, and I hadn’t paid enough attention to realize his one-man show was governing my every move.
“What about when you first came over?” Cameron asks. “What was your role then?”
“Infantry,” I say, glancing to see if there’s any judgment on his face. Instead, there’s only curiosity. “Our objective was to come across and secure the cities. That was about as much direction as we received as soldiers.”
“Right, but now they hold the cities and control the military and government, so what could they possibly be planning next? I’ve seen convoys in the wastelands over the years… sometimes big ones, with an entire fleet of vehicles. What are they doing out there? ”
My mind spins, thinking about the missions I’ve been sent on over the decades, most with the intention to scout or track down hidden villages. Dozens of them, maybe even hundreds, and for what purpose? I was always a good little soldier and never questioned my orders, but now that he’s asking the question, I don’t have a good answer.
What the hell are they searching for?
Landscapes change under the black of night. Once familiar roads twist and turn in unfamiliar ways, disorienting as you try to navigate in the darkness. Cameron has three near-meltdowns as we alter our course, but despite his frustration—and his escalating temper—we make it to our destination.
The morning sun is high in the sky by the time the wooden fence of the settlement appears in the distance, shimmering in the heat haze that burns off the baked soil. I was hoping we’d arrive under the cover of night, but there’s nothing to be done about it now. Cameron’s relief at seeing the camp is a tangible thing, the tension in the van dissipating as his legs fidget with a restless energy.
“We need to be cautious and make sure others haven’t moved in since you were last here.”
He nods, his nervous ticks spreading as he drums his finger on his leg. “If I remember correctly, there’s a dense thicket of trees nearby. We can park there and walk over to investigate.”
“No matter where we park, our vehicle will be visible to anyone watching from inside,” I point out, and he worries at his lip.
“Yeah, true,” he mumbles, “but it’ll make me more comfortable than just driving up to the front gate and honking.” It only takes one pleading glance from those sky-blue eyes for me to relent. Cameron is thrilled at his power of persuasion over me, but I blame it on exhaustion.
Shadows offer a welcome relief from the sun as we pull into the trees, both of us groaning as we step out and stretch. My injuries are pounding, muscles stiff with sitting all day, and I feel like I could sleep for an entire week.
Cameron passes me some nuts and dried fruit, and we snack while Boomerang stretches her legs and circles the trees.
The expanse of land between the trees and the camp offers no cover, so I take Cameron’s hand in mine and force myself in front of him. He mutters something under his breath, but obediently stays behind me as I scan along the walls and through the gaps in the wooden planks.
I see nothing, but that doesn’t rule out someone’s presence.
A chain winds around the gate, unlocked but secured with a gap large enough to squeeze through. The quiet roars in my ears as I strain to listen for signs of movement. Trees line the path that splits the camp, leaves rustling as a warm breeze blows.
Rows of dilapidated tents border the perimeter near the fence, their canvas ripped and flapping in the wind like tattered flags. Closer to the center, wooden houses are in better condition, with most of the windows and roofs intact. A few larger buildings might’ve been shops at some point, and a garage sits tucked away from the main road.
It’s eerily quiet but supports Cameron’s assessment that the camp has been deserted for a long time.
We spend hours searching every building, and by the time we’re satisfied that we’re alone, I’m barely able to stay on my feet. Dirt and grime cover our skin, sweat cutting tracks through the dusty film as we stand under the scorching rays of the sun.
Feet heavy, I stumble against the side of a building and lean against it to rest, allowing my eyes to close as Cameron’s hand finds my arm. “Are you okay?”
“Just tired.” It takes effort to open my eyes again, and I try to smile. Based on his skeptical expression, it’s more of a grimace and less reassuring than I’d hoped.
“You’re exhausted, Ronan. Come on, let’s get the van pulled in so you can sleep.” He gestures at the garage, and I frown.
We need the supplies, but having the vehicle hidden outside the walls could be helpful in the event of an attack. “It’s safer in the trees. We can bring it in and unload, but it needs to go back into the woods.”
Cameron frowns, an obvious argument brewing as he shakes his head. “You’re just asking for it to be stolen.”
“I wouldn’t leave the keys inside.”
“Any thief worth his weight knows how to hotwire a vehicle.”
“Do you?” I ask, raising my brow.
“Of course I do! And do you know what I’d do if I stumbled across an abandoned van? ”
“You’d steal it,” I mutter, and he nods with a satisfied smile.
“I’d steal it.”
Unconvinced, I glance around the camp. A sly smirk spreads across his face as he leans into my body, wrapping his hands around my neck and dragging his fingertips across my nape. “Let’s bring it in here, and if tomorrow comes and you still think it’s better off outside the gates, we’ll discuss it further. But right now, do you know what I want?” I grunt my response, incapable of answering while he’s touching me like this. “I want to take advantage of the running water and get a shower, then climb into an actual bed and sleep for the next twelve hours.”
My body sags at the thought, desperate for some rest. Cameron tugs me closer, and my hands land on his waist of their own accord. “Please?” he pouts in a whisper, and I scowl at his sweet bottom lip sticking out.
“You cannot just get whatever you want from me by begging.”
A tiny smile tugs on his lips. “Is that a dare?”
“It’s a fact,” I tell him with a stern glare.
“Hmm,” he hums, completely unconvinced. “We’ll see about that.” He releases me and heads back towards the gate, twisting to look at me over his shoulder. “Coming?” My chest rises and falls in a deep breath as I curse to myself, jogging to catch up.