Chapter 25
My eyes are stretched wide in frustration as I lay awake.
The beginnings of early morning light seep through cracks in the door.
At first, I slept through the various breathing, snorting, and snoring in the room like it was my own personal lullaby.
But as the night went on, and Tarius sounded more and more like a thunderstorm, I found it difficult to stay asleep.
The throb in my shoulder doesn't help. I toss and turn and huff.
Farra's above me and her deep even breaths tell me she's asleep. Like everyone else.
I roll and my eyes catch the large silhouette across from me.
Tane had crept in late, Vera and he exchanging a few hushed words, before he snuck into the rickety bunk below hers.
I can just barely see his face with the light streaming in.
I hate to admit it, but he looks beautiful while he sleeps; all his harsh features softer, somehow.
The usual scowl wiped away as he dreams.
I suck in a breath as his eyes pop open and connect with mine.
My brain screams to hide, but I can't seem to move.
I'm frozen, caught in his dark stare. Then he does something unexpected.
He rolls over fully, tucking his arm under his head.
My breath stills as his eyes brazenly roam over me.
Heat cascades over my body. This feels far too intimate, too personal, but neither of us budge…
we just continue to stare at each other.
The moment boils over, tipping me as something sits heavy in my gut until I panic, pulling the scratchy blanket over my face.
Embarrassment turns my face hot. Do I have a fever?
What the hell was that?! I think, as I try to calm my heart rate.
I wait in a trance, for how long I don't know, until a soft knock sounds on the door; one of the station officers telling us its dawn, and time to get going.
We move in fluid unity as we get ready for the day.
It's going to be a hard trek on foot. We rearrange our packs and suit up with what weaponry, food, and water we will need.
Tane and Vera both look ready for war. Tane has his two takkar blades tacked to his back again, cleared from all the blood and gore of yesterday.
They look almost like swords, except shorter.
Their handles are made of hard, easily-gripped plastic.
The blades are arched, becoming wider halfway up the blade, following a sharp curve until the lethal tip.
I desperately want to use something like that.
When I'd picked up the different blades and other weapons during training, I'd been filled with wonder.
But the government doesn't waste precious metal and material on cadets who, statistically, won't last long.
So they give us these awful batons made of recycled material. They're terrible.
Vera has knives of various sizes strapped to her leg, and a gun that looks comically large in her slender hands. She straps it to her back too, and I notice their bags cross their fronts, to make room for all the weapons they carry.
Tane clears his throat.
"We've been given the rest of the mission details, now that we're out here.
Our targets are three civilians, living on the outskirts of an abandoned outpost town.
They are believed to be defectors, and have pertinent information the Council can't have getting into the wrong hands.
We are to bring them back alive or, under unfortunate circumstances, dead, but they are considered unarmed and docile, so we don't think it will come to that. "
He starts looking us over, checking that our gear is placed correctly. When he comes to me, I avoid eye contact, hoping he doesn't mention my late-night staring.
"May I?" he asks, his voice gruff.
I nod, unsure of what he means. He removes my pack, and moves closer to me his eyes meet mine for a moment and he gestures to the straps on my shoulders, a silent request. All I can do is nod again.
He tugs on my tac straps, tightening them, and the pressure on my unhealed shoulder has me sucking in a sharp breath.
He moves my braid gently, his fingers grazing my clavicle.
My skin pebbles, and I try not to shiver.
Once he's satisfied, he takes my pack, fussing with it a bit, as I stand ramrod straight.
Standing close again, he places it gently on my shoulders, careful of the side that's aching.
I notice he's put a cloth pad on the strap to cushion it.
My breathing is shallow as I look up at him, a million questions buzzing through my mind.
"Let me know if that's bugging you. I took some weight out," he says under his breath, tone gravelly, and I feel my cheeks pink.
"Thank you," I whisper. He grunts his acknowledgement, and walks away. I shake my head.
The man has issues. He was practically growling at me before we left. Now I get this gentleness I don't know what to do with.
I pull goggles over my eyes, the metallic figure-eight of the frames fitting snug over my face. They makes the room look a tad warped, but I'm happy to have them.
Vera goes over protocol. We will most likely be caught in a dust storm on the way there or back, and if we're unlucky, both ways.
Although they seem to come cyclically out here, so we might be okay if what the base soldiers have tracked is accurate.
We go over the panic pods. What happens if we get separated, ambushed, or injured.
We all listen intently, soaking up the information. Once we've been looked over, and a few things have been tweaked, we head out.
I’m blinded by the brightness of the day, my eyes watering from the sun’s piercing rays.
The dust is minimal, which is nice, but it means the heat is pounding on us as we walk single-file through the dunes.
My eyes bounce around, curiosity demanding I take in everything. Being out this far is exciting.
When the barrier comes into view I can't seem to look away. From here it looks like a cloud, with neither beginning nor end. Its bottom touches the ground, top nowhere to be seen––a steady white wall of magic that guards a piece of our continent.
We walk for hours. Tane leads, Vera taking the rear, like we're a group of five-year-olds needing to be sandwiched between the functional adults. Honestly, kind of accurate after the display with the Sicari yesterday.
We stop only for brief moments to catch our breath and drink water, silently checking in on one another.
My feet sink into the dense silt. Not quite sand, not quite dust, it makes walking difficult either way.
We crest another hill and dust clouds pass above us in glittering swirls, but they aren't storms yet, and I'm grateful.
My mouth feels dry and chalky, but I save as much of my water as possible. Who knows what the way back is going to look like?
Down below us I see a tiny smattering of houses, much like the ones back home. There's one fairly close to us, just down the hill, and sure enough, Tane turns, following the path that leads to the small house instead of the village beyond it.
A ripple of anxiety settles in my chest; I wonder what we're really walking into here.
As we approach, Tane motions to Vera. She taps Tarius and Berkley to come with her, moving around the house silently to make sure no one can sneak off through the back.
Farra, Leo, and I flank Tane's sides. Absently, I wonder why they even sent us.
Tane and Vera alone are threatening enough.
Farra, Leo and I look like children playing dress up compared to him.
Tane bangs loudly on the door twice. Some of the old peeling white paint flecks off with the vibrations.
"This is Lieutenant Valo. We need to speak with the residents."
Silence.
Tane's body tenses slightly. as he bangs again on the door.
"This is your last warning. Open, or we're coming in." His voice is so commanding I wonder how anyone can resist it. We stand still and listen. I hear a creak in the floorboards behind the door.
Tane starts counting down from three, and just before he gets to one, the door whips open and a disgruntled woman huffs at him.
"No need to be so impatient. I move slowly. Please do come in," she mocks. Her long brown hair is peppered with white, falling around her thin face as she moves awkwardly into the room.
Tane nods his head, ducking his giant frame to get into the small, run-down house. We follow, and I'm immediately thrown off by the space. I don't know what I was expecting; I think probably some kind of defector’s lair, with weaponry and plans of mass destruction.
Instead, we're standing in a home. Not much bigger than the one Linden, Willow and I live in.
It's got that New Providence charm, with worn, scavenged pieces slapped together.
The only difference is the woman living here has clearly done a better job of making it look homey.
There's a tablecloth and candles on the small dining room table.
A few pieces of art sit atop a shelf, something drawn by a child.
"Where's your husband?" Tane demands.
"He's right here," comes a raspy voice from the back of the house.
Vera's holding the man by the collar and shoving him through the tiny back room. He wants to fight her off, but she's got her gun out. The man looks livid. He and his wife must be around fifty, maybe? Definitely older than Berkley, who is now coming through with Tarius.
My eyes pinball when I see the tiny figure they have locked between them. It's a little boy. I almost lose my composure completely. He looks terrified.
"Who's this?" Tane asks.