32. CHAPTER 32
Kira
The Before-Times
Three Years Ago
The Capital
Kallum, Ciondo
830 P.C. [Post-Collapse]
Kira waited in the shadows of the office while the stranger who scaled buildings with her disappeared to check for soldiers. If anyone approached, she had nothing to use to defend herself. Scissors might do. She grabbed a pair and jabbed them through the air.
That wasn't stabbing through flesh.
Stepping on one side of the scissors, she pulled on the other, until she pried the two blades apart.
Not bad.
The problem was, she'd never tried to hurt anyone before and didn't know if she could bring herself to do it.
“Follow.” She jumped at the voice, not even hearing the stranger approach from a different doorway.
His head lowered to the makeshift blades in her hands, and he might have chuckled. The voice changer made it hard to tell.
Laugh all he wanted. Kira was mostly confident she could use these and that they might cut through flesh and muscle.
“That's better than your sad hunk of wood from earlier,” he said.
How ineffective that turned out to be. He'd yanked it right out of her hand.
“You have enough weapons to share,” she said, looking at the handgun on his hip, the thick knife on the other side, and then the slimmer one strapped to his thigh. Plenty of things to hurt people with.
“I need these. You look like you have a great thing going with your tiny swords.”
Kira frowned at the broken scissors. “Why does it feel like you just don't trust me with your blades?”
He walked forward without answering, leading her up the stairs and to a ladder that she assumed opened to the roof.
Climbing behind him, she noticed the flex of his shoulders beneath his black shirt and thought of how easy he made scaling the building with her look.
He knew what he was doing. Why was someone like him helping her?
When the stranger peered above the opening, he held a hand for her to wait before quietly leaving her sight.
Within seconds, she heard scraping and thuds. The sound of a struggle. Her heart quickened.
Kira ripped the two sides of the scissors from her pocket and peeked up to see her stranger kick a soldier in the gut. He moved so fast, every motion precise as he knocked the radio from the other man's hand and spun to slam his boot into his sternum.
The soldier coughed, collapsing against her stranger who had rushed him again.
Her heart hammered watching her masked soldier wrap a thick arm around the other man's neck, lock his wrist with his other forearm, and choke him.
Bucking. Snarling. The wounded soldier flailed and fought for any hit he might land, but there was no relenting.
Kira stared into his bulging eyes while the stranger maintained his hold, shoving his foot against a wall for added support. His biceps strained against his black sleeve while he mercilessly strangled the life from the other man.
Kira dropped her scissors. She wasn't a fighter. Didn't know how to do what he did. And these weapons were more likely to get turned on her than anything.
It wasn't blades she needed, but her drones and uranium. The point of her plan was to rebel peacefully, but now someone was hurt because of her. This wasn't meant to happen.
The soldier went limp. Still, her stranger didn't release him for long seconds. Finally, he lowered the man to the ground and spoke into his watch. “I need a decoy at this location. Stat.”
“Are you hurt?” Kira asked, joining him on the roof.
“No.”
The soldier wasn't moving. Horror quickened her heart rate. “Is he dead?”
“He's whatever answer makes you feel best.” The stranger caught her wrist and pulled her against him. “Close your eyes.”
“What—”
Arms as tight as steel locked around her body, cradling her against his chest, hefting her off her feet.
The stranger ran toward the edge of the building.
And jumped.
JUMPED.
A scream lodged in Kira's throat, every alarm system inside her blaring as they dove through the air together. She squeezed her eyes shut and tensed her body for impact, imagining their heads splattering against the street.
He landed hard on his feet on the next roof and fell into a roll, his body curling around hers to take the brunt of the impact. Pressure squeezed the air from her lungs when they slammed to a stop.
Before she could even take in a breath, he shoved himself up, lifting her with him. Kira got her feet under her, running with him full speed for the edge of the roof. Arms wrapped around her again, and this time she knew what was coming when he leaped from the edge of the building.
This landing was rougher and the drop to the next rooftop steeper.
He rolled off his shoulder, arms shielding her head as they tumbled across the rough roof. Kira landed on top of him, cheek pressed against his hard chest, hands gripping his shirt.
The world spun.
Her mind was trapped with the dead man two buildings away, but her stranger was hauling her up with him again. No slowing down. No time to think.
He staggered forward two uneven steps before getting his bearings. Hand holding hers, he tugged her after him.
That last fall had to hurt, but he didn't seem to like it when she'd asked if he was okay before. Her eyes scanned him for injury, finding a scraped shoulder showing through a hole in his shirt. No blood otherwise.
His gentleness on the ledge when he asked if he could pick her up masked him as well as his disguise.
Though she didn't mean to trust him, his care softened her.
But Kira didn't know anything about this man.
He choked another person without hesitation.
How many people had he killed? Did he care about taking life?
“The next roof is too far to jump,” the stranger said. “We have to climb, and we have to do it fast. We need as much distance between ourselves and the soldier as possible in case the decoy fails.”
“He's dead,” Kira said. It wasn't her first time watching someone get killed. Far from it. But no one ever killed anyone for her before. Because of her. “Does that even bother you?”
“Yes.”
He didn't explain further and didn't seem upset, but soldiers knew how to compartmentalize.
This man wouldn't show his face to Kira.
Why would he reveal his emotions to her?
But the fear she felt when he first found her overcame her again.
Was she an idiot for escaping with him? There was no telling what he planned to do with her.
She supposed she didn't have a choice. It was the stranger or death.
They fled from fire escape to fire escape, occasionally taking to alleyways.
Kira couldn't keep track of the time. She could barely keep track of her legs.
It felt like she had left them behind hours ago.
Beyond exhausted, she struggled to keep up, too tired to worry about how her actions tonight killed a man, or how it affected the stranger.
Just what kind of man he was. That all would keep her up at night later.
“Right over there.” The masked man pointed to an alley below. “That's the edge of the restricted zone. We're almost there.”
She would have cried if she had the strength.
He stared at the ground. “There's no easy way down this one. There's too much light by the stairs. But we're at the end. Focus on that.”
That sounded so ominous.
He climbed off the roof, and she leaned forward to see him lower to the ledge, with nothing but windows below him.
This wasn't happening. Kira would die. How did he think she'd make it down the side of a building without any stairs?
“Come on,” he whispered. “I have you.”
Nausea filled her as she scooted herself over the edge, freezing with her legs dangling. This was crazy. What if she fell?
A hand tapped her foot, and she lowered more until he caught her legs. More until his arms came about her waist. More until she let go completely and trusted him not to drop her.
He twisted and pushed her against the window, lowering her feet to the ledge.
She made it. She really did.
That was horrible. Kira held his shoulders in a death grip, acutely aware of how tightly his hard chest smashed against her. They'd spent hours together fleeing, and it wasn't the first time his body flattened hers, but he started feeling like a real person along the way.
While Kira didn't know him, she did know that so far he'd protected her.
He killed a soldier who would have handed her over for execution to help her escape.
She wasn't okay with someone dying because of her, but she chose to put herself at risk coming here.
When she also chose to follow this soldier, she forced him into his own choice. Her or that soldier.
This was her fault.
Her fingers rested against muscles hewn into his shoulders, and she breathed him in, lips brushing his neck from how close he held her.
Was she letting him sway her because of how being in his arms felt?
Kira didn't know how he looked or sounded.
But she'd come to know his body very well tonight for someone she knew so little about.
And it overwhelmed her senses right now, making her desperate to pry off his mask and find a hint of skin.
Dehydration.
That had to be it. It wasn't like Kira to get dizzy over a man. Ridiculous.
The warmth of his body withdrew from her, and the full brunt of the wind ripped against her. Kira gripped the windowsill, holding her breath while the stranger dropped to the ledge below, giving her room to breathe in something other than him.
Shifting just enough to see below, she caught his hands reaching for her and knew he meant for her to climb down. She tried to make herself move. Really did. Her legs were locked in place, body bowing back toward the window.
But she had to.
Trembling from the fear of heights, she painstakingly and carefully eased down until his strong hands grabbed her and offered her a semblance of security.
His promise played on repeat in her mind. The one he uttered so many times tonight. He wouldn't let go.
Wouldn't.
The further she lowered, the more of her weight he took, stabilizing her, until her feet landed beside him.
“Well done,” he whispered.
Kira couldn't stop shaking. His closeness was the only thing able to distract her, but soon he took that from her to climb down a level.
Determined not to hold up the process, Kira worked toward the edge and started to lower her leg.
The concrete cracked and debris crumbled. She gasped, lunging toward the window when the ledge caved and gravity ripped her free.
Kira was falling.
Falling to her death.
The harness pulled and cut into her skin, ripping her toward the building.
There wasn't time to truly feel terror. He caught her right when the butterflies fluttering in her stomach sharpened to knives. But staring down into the darkness, her full weight leaning forward, all the fear of what might have been hit her as if she'd crashed to the ground below.
The stranger ripped her back and caught her against himself, arm locking around her waist. They both grunted, falling against the building.
And she held onto him tighter than she knew she could.