Chapter Forty-Six
“Get up,” Colton shouted, kicking her feet from the shelter’s opening.
Gemma snapped awake. She’d forced herself to stay alert while Colton lay in the shelter with her, in case he attempted to force himself on her.
But at some point, she must’ve dozed off.
Now, her entire body ached from remaining in the same position for hours.
But she wouldn’t let Colton see any weakness, lest he use it against her.
He had to have known she wouldn’t run off, given that he’d poisoned her.
Crawling out into the bright light, Gemma glared at Colton. Making her sleep next to him was his ridiculous way of torturing Christian, even though he wasn’t here to see it. Bloody bastard.
The sun barely crested the mountain peaks, but even this sliver of light couldn’t hold back the heat, hot enough that a haze shimmered on top of the red sand. Gemma narrowed her gaze as she viewed her surroundings in daylight.
“You’re taking us back through the desert of Reva?”
Colton broke down the shelter. “It’s not impassable if you know what to look out for. Luckily for you, I’ve been crossing this desert for a long time. I’ll keep you safe, querida.” He winked.
Gemma’s hands clenched into fists. The moment the antidote entered her system, she would have a great time punching that stupid smirk off his face.
“Do I need to tie your wrists again, or will you behave?” Colton asked.
“Bind my wrists again, and I’ll use the rope to strangle you.”
He smirked. “Sounds good, then. Let’s move.”
With their helmets back on, they traversed across the red sand dunes of Reva, silent until the sun was at its highest. Despite Rami’s promise that her suit would keep her cool against the blue sun’s heat, Gemma had never been so overheated.
Every inch of her was wet with sweat, and her feet sunk deeper into the sand with every step.
Her breathing had become labored; wheezes rattled her chest. If she didn’t rest soon, she was going to faint.
“Please,” she begged Colton, “I need a break.”
He growled. “I thought you trained with the Dissent for two-and-a-half years. You should be better conditioned than this.”
“Only to pass the Trials . . . and some sparring. I never . . . did much else.” Her words were broken by deep gasps for air.
He spun around and waved an arm at the sand. “Fine. Sit.”
Gemma plopped onto the surface.
Even through her suit, she felt the heat radiating off each grain of sand.
Her chest rose and fell in a deep, rapid rhythm as she attempted to catch her breath.
Without taking off her helmet, she wasn’t sure if she would ever be able to breathe again.
But removing the helmet would lead to even worse complications, like skinburns and blistering.
So, she continued to take longer and deeper breaths until her galloping pulse started to slow, the oxygen entering her helmet through filters along the front and sides.
Colton sat next to her and played with his comm. Several moments passed before he spoke. “If you don’t take another break until nightfall, we could be back to Zion about this time tomorrow. But you’re going to have to keep up.”
Gemma wanted to groan and swear at him, yet nothing came out. Her body was too tired to do anything but essential functions.
Seconds after Gemma’s heart rate had returned to normal, Colton interrupted her peace. “Are you ready to go yet?”
She rolled her eyes. “You poisoned me, remember? If you wanted me to keep pace with you, maybe you shouldn’t have done that.”
He huffed.
Gemma angled her head toward him. “Why did you join the Dissent? Were you born selfish and evil?”
Colton snorted. “Believe it or not, I’m actually the nice one in my family.”
“That’s a scary thought.”
“You make me sound like a villain, Gemma. I just want freedom for our people so badly that I’m willing to do whatever it takes.”
She pressed her lips together, stifling her retort. A rehash of yesterday’s conversation would do neither of them any good.
“I’m the youngest of six boys,” Colton explained.
“My parents owned a diner in the bad part of Perileos—the part no one wants to go to. They made money off monopolizing the area through threats and blackmail, and they expected us to work for them. To toughen us up, Dad passed on the idea that beating the shit out of your younger brothers was a good idea. So me, being the youngest . . . Well, you get the idea.”
Gemma frowned. She had had the thought before that everyone in Perileos must have tragedy in their life, and Colton’s story proved that theory further.
It was deplorable what poverty did to human beings.
“Then one day,” he continued, “my oldest brother killed my dad, and Mom had my brother executed.”
Gemma’s eyes widened in a snap. A mother would do that to her own son?
“Lots of love in my family, let me tell ya. I was about eleven at that time, so I ran away. Don’t ask me where I was going to go, because stars if I knew.
The Dissent found me and gave me a home and showed me how it’s that place—Perileos—that ruins people.
It takes away everyone’s hope and drives them to desperation.
So, you go right ahead and think of me as evil for fighting with the Dissent. I couldn’t care less.”
Her scowl deepened. Gemma wanted to hate him, but she too had joined the Dissent after her life had been upended. She couldn’t blame him, especially since he was a child when they’d given him a home. She understood his loyalty.
Yet, if an organization was truly good, why would they need to resort to manipulating people to do their dirty work? Why would they make people disappear and collect armaments when a war with the Systems would only see Perileos suffer?
She had to find out what the Dissent was planning.
Colton rose to his feet. “All right, break time is over. Let’s go.”
Without an argument, Gemma obeyed and continued her march through the sweltering heat, her mind already counting down the hours until nightfall.