Mallory
My face is slick with tears. My chest hurts, my trembling arms clutch Cristan so tightly, I’m losing feeling in my fingers.
But I don’t care. He’s here. He’s alive. Somehow he’s escaped. And he’s here with me again.
Part of me thinks it’s not real. Another part of me thinks he’s hurt and needs medical attention, but I’m not really thinking about anything other than how his body feels pressed against mine as I silently cry and bury my face into his neck.
He’s murmuring into my hair, telling me we should get up off the ground, but I’m so exhausted, so overwhelmed, I just want to lie there wrapped in his arms, where I feel safe and secure.
It’s Drew that forces me to move. “Mallory, he’s hurt. And I can’t tell how bad until you get off him.”
With a sniff, I hide my blazing cheeks, and withdraw my arms so Cristan can move. I pull myself to standing as Drew extends a hand to Cristan. “We should get you out of the sun.”
Cristan’s forehead creases as though he’s confused. He doesn’t say anything, just lets Drew pull him to his feet.
He stumbles, swaying a little until Drew grabs his forearms and steadies him. “Whoa. Take it easy, okay?”
My heart jumps into my throat as Drew grabs him under the shoulder and starts to haul him up.
Cristan’s head lolls to one side, hair falling into his eyes as he squints in my direction. “Where’s Jed?” he asks in a rough whisper.
Every muscle in my body seems to groan as I struggle to match Drew’s pace as he drags Cristan to the vehicle.
“He’s in the Unit still,” Drew says.
Sweat is starting to bead on Cristan’s upper lip, his face swollen and bruised. Blood has dried on the side of his head. He squints in Drew’s direction, but his eyes seem to be drifting as though he can’t focus.
A muttered curse slips past his pale lips as Drew helps him into the back seat. “Get him out. Get them all out,” he rasps.
All my muscles tense up as Cristan’s eyes flicker then close as he goes limp causing Drew to lose his grip.
He slumps back as if his bones have dissolved and collapses on the back seat.
Drew exhales loudly and backs away, leaving Cristan’s legs hanging out the door cavity. He runs a hand over his face and looks at me. “He’s passed out. That boy must be made of rubber to walk away from that.”
He shakes his head again, a half smile, half frown on his face as I stare wide-eyed at him. “He fell? He was one of the bodies dropped off by the drone?”
Drew nods slowly. “Looks that way. He needs his head looking at, and ideally a scan to make sure nothing is broken or bleeding internally.”
I step around him, worry gnawing inside me as I take in Cristan’s crumpled and bloodied form on the back seat. “But how can he have a scan?”
He leans against the vehicle and releases a long sigh. “We have the equipment inside the Unit. Couple problems with that idea though.”
He holds out his hand and counts using his fingers. “One, I don’t know if the G are watching the Unit, so we may not make it inside anyway. Two, even if we make it inside, I have no idea what our reception will be. Three, if we scan Cristan, the results will be automatically sent to the G.”
Drew drops his hand to his side and frowns at me. “Best idea is that you take him back to Kit, and I wait here for Mike so I can try to smooth things over.”
Panic overtakes my concern for Cristan. “I need to drive again?”
Drew nods and folds his bulky arms across his chest. “You did it before. You can do it again. You know your way back.”
He flicks a glance towards the border fence. “Mike will be here soon. It’s best if you get going.”
I have no time to protest when he grabs Cristan’s feet and shoves so Cristan is fully in the vehicle.
He calls over his shoulder as he adjusts the seat belts and tries to get a belt around Cristan’s shoulder. “Give us a hand, eh? He’s dead weight.”
I flinch at the ill-placed wording but move as quickly as my aching bones allow me too. Cristan’s eyes flicker as I grab his arm and try to pull him towards me so he’s sitting upright.
He doesn’t budge until Drew shoves and we manage to secure the belt around him.
Drew pulls his arm back, and I stare at the blood that is trickling down his tattooed arm. “You’re bleeding?”
He eases out of the vehicle, scowling as I take a second to check on Cristan. His colour looks a little better, but his skin is clammy and he’s cold to the touch.
I press my ear to his chest and gain the slightest amount of relief his chest is still rising and falling.
When I step around the vehicle, Drew has pulled out the medical bag and is placing a bandage on his forearm.
He catches me looking and winks. “Kit told me not to lift anything heavy.”
He chuckles and snaps the medical bag closed and throws it in the front seat. “You’re all set?”
I swallow and nod despite my hesitance, I take a seat behind the wheel of the vehicle. I’m not as unsure as the first and only time I’ve driven, but it takes me a few false starts to get the gear stick, and clutch in the right order.
Drew leans in and squeezes my shoulder. I try not to flinch at his touch. “I’ll use the short wave at the Unit to contact you.”
He smiles and backs away, his eyes shifting to look in the direction of the graveyard. “See you soon,” he says.
I give him a feeble smile and shift from neutral to first and turn the wheel as we jump a bit before I remember to push my foot down harder on the accelerator.
Drew turns on his heel and starts walking towards the graveyard, so I speed up enough to send dust plumes billowing up.
I glance in the reflective strip above me at Cristan slumped in the backseat.
He looks awful, but he’s alive and that’s good enough for now.
Cristan
Groggy. That’s the word that comes to mind as I’m finally able to muster the energy to pull myself out of the near coma I lapsed into.
I blink a couple times, groaning as I ease up from the bed I seem to have been placed on.
Vague memories of someone removing my boots and clothes fracture into my splitting head as I try to figure out where I am. I rub at my eyes and inhale as much as my aching ribs allow for.
Wherever I am, the sheets are scratching my bare skin. I can smell dirt and moisture with the hint of oil in the air. The huts. I’m back inside one of the huts.
Buck naked.
Heat blazes across my body as I check under the sheets and release a breath that I’m wearing a pair of cut off pants.
Least I don’t have to worry about the G tracking me out here and finding everyone else.
Drew and Mallory must have brought me here. I can only hope it was Drew who undressed me.
I press my finger and thumb to my eyes and shake my head, hoping to shake off the sluggishness coating my body.
My head hurts so bad, I’m grateful it’s near dark barring the light sticks scattered around the hut. I probably have a concussion. If I’m lucky, that’s all I have wrong with me.
I scan the hut and pull myself to sitting rolling my shoulders, testing them out as I stretch my legs.
Across the room, Mallory is tucked up on the couch, blanket over her, her hair trailing over her face, obscuring her eyes.
I put my feet on the floor, and suck in a breath as the floor shifts under my feet. When my head stops spinning, I take a step, testing to see if my strength is back.
Not surprisingly, I’m still unsteady and weak. I have no idea how long the effects last, another thing I didn’t ask Grace before I let her inject me.
Mallory stirs, and my lips curve into a smile as she murmurs in her sleep. Whatever she’s been through, she looks like she needs to rest as much as I do, so rather than wake her, I decide to leave her to sleep and creep to the door.
My fingers are on the handle when she calls my name. She’s rubbing at her eyes and yawning as she pulls herself to standing.
Her voice is thick with sleep as she takes a hesitant step towards me, her eyes don’t still as she looks at my bare chest and arms. I’m not sure if it’s me or the ink covering me she’s looking at, but either way, I like the attention which is a first for me. “Where are you going?” she asks.
I push the door closed and turn towards her. She steps into me and wraps her arms around my waist. My skin rises to her touch, my arms instinctively encircle her and draw her closer.
Her skin is warm against mine. She’s soft, her fingers gently running down my back, to the tail of the dragon that covers the worst of the scarring the tests left on my battered body.
She’s the closest thing to heaven I can imagine after a few days of hell.
We stand like that for a while, just holding each other, until my vision starts to swim, and I start to feel too woozy to risk passing out again.
“Sorry. I need to sit. Been a rough day,” I say with as much humour as I can find.
Rough doesn’t even begin to describe it. I killed a man with my bare hands. Broke my guard’s arm, pissed off my brother, ingested a massive dose of a toxin that would have killed an ordinary man and probably have the entire Gallathian Special Operations searching for me again.
Not exactly a smooth day. Even for a nut case like me.
But she doesn’t know any of that. And she doesn’t need to. Not right now. Not when all I want to do is be with her and just forget about the destruction I caused.
I need a safe place to fall. Soft after hard, kindness after apathy.
She takes my hand so I have to follow her back to the bed. Her smile is coy as she gently pushes me so my knees fold and I fall back. “Kit said you need to rest as much as possible.”
I’m too shattered to protest so I shimmy back onto the mattress. Instead of leaving me to it, she sits and swings her legs up so she can lie alongside me.
I shuffle back so she has room and slide my arm out so she’s lying on top of it. Her teeth find her lip as she turns on her side so we’re face to face.
I pull her close and try to smother the yawn brewing. She shuffles even closer and I’m suddenly very aware of how long it’s been since I had a shower.
Judging by the state of her, and the radio transmission I overheard, she’s not exactly been sitting on her hands waiting for me, and I want to know every last detail, but I’m so fecking tired, even having her this close to me when I’m half naked isn’t enough to prop my eyelids open.
She gives me permission to flake again when she smiles and pulls the sheets up so we’re covered. Her eyelids are drooping when she snuggles in closer. “We can’t do anything right now.”
Jed’s face flitters in front of me and my eyes mist, throat growing thick before sleep starts to pull me under.
Guilt nudges me as I lose the fight to stay awake. No matter what I have to do, even if I have to crawl to the Unit on my hands and knees, I have to get him out.
Mallory
The nightmare has me firmly in its grasp when I wake shuddering and clammy with sweat.
I’m locked in Cristan’s arms, my back to his chest, his arm around my waist as I try to steady my breathing so I don’t wake him.
“Nightmare?” he whispers in my ear. I take a deep breath and flip on to my side.
I’m ready with my apology when I look closer at him as he puts a hand to his mouth and yawns. “I really need a shower,” he mutters.
I frown as he pulls himself away from me and flinches as he sits up and swings his legs so his bare feet are on the floor.
My entire body reacts, my pulse speeds, and a rush of warmth settles in my mid-section and spreads throughout my body.
The urge to touch him is disrupted by the knowledge he’s hurt. His eyes are bloodshot. Dark circles around them, his face is bruised, swollen and pale in the early morning sunlight.
I forget all about staring too long at him, and lean closer, so I can inspect the damage Kit assured me, wasn’t serious.
He tenses as I gently touch his chest. My eyes flick to his face, and heat blazes through my body as he smiles crookedly. “I must look like crap?”
The exhaustion I felt, the horror of the nightmare is washed away by a mixture of desire and dread at how damaged he looks.
I sit slowly and frown at him. “Are you in pain?”
He shakes his head. “I’m okay. How about you? You were out in the old city? Jackson got hurt?”
My eyebrows rise. “How did you know that?”
He smiles, but it’s filled with sadness I’m not sure I understand. I reach out so my fingers are laced into his. “Did they tell you?” I say softy.
“Yeah. They did. Took great pleasure in telling me they were planning on culling everyone inside the Unit too.”
His anger is obvious as he pulls himself to standing and searches the hut. “Where’s Drew? I need to speak to him. And you guys buried my clothes I take it?”
I try to shake off his anger, and locate a shirt that Kit left behind before she left last night. “Kit and I buried them.”
Cristan cocks his head, looking confused as he waits for me to answer his question about Drew.
But my thoughts are on Kit. I need to tell her Cristan is awake. When I’d arrived alone and rushed into her hut to ask for her help, she’d been less surprised than I expected.
I doubt Cristan remembers it, but I’d used her old-fashioned time slide that runs on a strange mechanism rather than solar-powered batteries and followed her instructions to wake him every hour.
I hand him the shirt. He shrugs it over his shoulders, all without taking his eyes off me. “You want to tell me what happened after I left?”
I can’t seem to hold his gaze so I look down at my filthy hands. Dirt is under my short nails for the first time in my life. “Mallory? What happened?” He repeats.
He steps closer, so he’s standing arms-length away from me. I gather the courage I need to ask him about what I learned and what I saw. “Who are you, Cristan?”
I sneak a look up at him and wince at the pain lacing his features. He blows out a long breath and runs his hand over his hair.
He doesn’t look at me either. “Can we talk about all this later? I mean, I still don’t know if Jed is okay.”
I hurry to reassure him. “Drew should be with Jed by now.”
Cristan looks ready to ask more questions when a knock comes from outside. Kit pops her head inside, looking utterly exhausted.
She steps inside and looks Cristan up and down. “Good. You’re on your feet again. Drew’s been trying to contact us. I fell asleep and missed the last attempt. He’s getting frantic to speak with you so I told him I’d see if you were up to a chat.”
Cristan glances at me then nods at Kit and takes my hand in his. “I’m fine. You can fill me in on what’s going on. Feel like I’m missing a bunch.”
As soon as we’re out in the weak morning sunlight, Cristan shades his eyes and squints as he looks at Kit. “Did he say whether Jed was okay?”
A slight smile lights her lips as she yawns again. “Well, he said the cockroaches have crawled home, so I’m assuming that means Jed is fine.”
Cristan’s entire face seems to brighten, and his fingers squeeze mine tighter as we reach Drew’s dusty vehicle. “It does,” he says with a smile that seems to grow as he looks at me.
In a quick move, he surprises me by grabbing me around the waist so he can wrap his arms around me.
Kit chuckles from where she waits by the vehicle. But I’m barely aware of anything but the feel of his arms around me, and the way my skin seems to rise at his touch.
His breath tickles my ear as he holds me so tight I can’t breathe. “You want to know who I am? I’m the guy who loves you. That’s who I am. And I’m going to make this right. All of it.”
The radio crackles to life before I can reply.
Cristan
I can feel Mallory’s unspoken questions building. When this is over, when I have Jed safe, I’ll make the time to tell her everything. She deserves that. But right now, even including finding out exactly what went on while I was gone, has to wait.
My throat is scratchy and dry but all my discomfort floats away as Drew’s tinny voice comes over the radio. “You receiving? Over.”
A snatch up the radio and smile as I croak out a response. “Loud and clear. Over.”
Drew’s voice comes in quick, and I can almost hear the smile accompanying it. “I’ll keep it brief. Cockroaches on the move. Over.”
Tension in my muscles starts to build as I wait for Drew to let me know Jed is doing okay.
He knows me well enough to not muck me around and keep me waiting. So, I flick a glance at Kit and Mallory who are standing close, listening and try to hide my nervousness.
“Is the baby tucked into bed? Over,” I ask.
Drew replies immediately, his laugh enough to make my shoulders relax a little. Jed. My baby brother is okay. “Roger. You still in one piece? Over.”
I smile and use the most Irrelevant language I can think of. “Everything’s sweet as. Over.”
Drew laughs again. “Roger that. Keep safe. We’re still dark here. No cockroaches in sight. Over and out.”
I exhale slowly. “Over and out.”
I’m barely able to contain my relief when I slump back against the seat and close my eyes against the sunrise glowing on the horizon.
“Beautiful, isn’t it? Don’t get that in the new city,” I hear Kit murmur.
My eyes pop open and warmth floods my weary body. Mallory is standing staring at the sunrise, tears are streaming down her face.
Splashes of pink and orange cast her in a subdued glow. I watch her, leaning into the seat, chest aching with too many emotions I’ve never felt before.
Kit catches my eye but she doesn’t seem to want to interrupt Mallory either, which I’m glad for.
She leans against the door frame, so she’s blocking my view slightly. “Your girl is something else.”
My lips twitch into a smile. My girl. I like that. “She is.”
Kit rolls her eyes. “You know she’s the reason we’re not dead?”
I shake my head, a frown growing as Kit slides into the passenger seat. Her eyes are locked on Mallory as she speaks in a low voice. “I don’t know what happened to you in there or how you got out, but I do know that they came looking for us, and that there’s more going on with you than I first thought.”
A knot forms in my gut. We’re both looking at Mallory, who’s still entranced by the colours appearing. What little respite I gained knowing that Drew has Jed safe, disappears as Kit looks directly at me. “We know who you are. At least, who you’re related to.”
A shiver of fear snakes down my back. My jaw tightens. “Does Mallory know?”
Kit narrows her eyes. “Yes.”
I mutter a curse and try to deflect the unwanted attention. “Why’d you take her into the old city? She would have been safer at the Zoo.”
Kit snorts. “Are you kidding me?”
Heat shoots through my aching bones as I angle my head in Mallory’s direction. “She’s fragile. She doesn’t belong in the middle of all this.”
I think Kit’s about to argue, so I’m surprised when she nods. “She is. But she’s also resourceful and smart. And she’s prepared to learn how to do what’s needed. She handled seeing the ghosts, she came up with a way into the new city. We just never got a chance to use it.”
“Ghosts?” I ask.
She smiles as she looks in Mallory’s direction. “We’ll talk about the ghosts later. You should have seen her in action. Guns blazing all around her, Jackson’s bleeding to death in the backseat. I tell her to run and she slides into the driver’s seat like she’s done it a hundred times before.”
My eyes pop as Kit laughs low and throaty. “I don’t know who was more surprised. The G man she hit or Drew when she managed to get us back here.”
She starts to laugh and it’s hard not to smile along with her as Mallory slowly turns towards us, a contented look on her pale face.
My chest tightens as she pushes her long hair behind her ear. Thin blonde strands that fly away with the breeze as though uncontainable.
She looks thin, but if she did what Kit says she did, there’s a hidden strength beneath the fragile exterior.
And I’m starting to think as she starts to pick at the skin around her nails, a dreamy look on her dirty face, that maybe the G aren’t the only ones who’ve been underestimating her.
The nice moment is wrecked by Jackson calling from inside the hut.
I slide out at the same time Kit does and head towards Mallory. Feet bare on the dusty ground beneath us. “You want to talk, don’t you?”
She frowns at me but nods slowly. “Why didn’t you tell me who you were? Didn’t you trust me?”
The words sting more because she’s partially right. But more because of the way her lip is starting to wobble.
There’s nothing I can say. An apology doesn’t seem to match what I kept from her. I open my mouth to try to explain when Kit appears in the doorway to her hut. “Jackson wants to speak with you.”
I heave a sigh and nod. “Give us two minutes.”
Kit disappears and I force a pathetic smile in Mallory’s direction. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. But I did it to protect you. If the G knew, if my family knew about us…”
I let the sentence hang and hope she’ll fill in the blanks. She steps a little closer and dips her chin so she’s staring at her dusty boots. “I understand. I think.”
Her eyes are filling when she looks up. She sniffs. “Kit said they didn’t shoot us because they were looking for one of us. It was me, wasn’t it?”
Pain tears through me. They came looking. And by the sounds of it Mallory’s quick thinking saved not just her, but everyone else.
“They came looking for someone to make sure I did what they wanted.”
Mallory steps closer. “What did they want?”
I shake my head, and glance at the door to the hut. “To carry on the experiment.”
Mallory’s confusion is evident in the deepening furrow lines on her forehead. “But what is the experiment?”
I shrug my shoulders and fake being okay with not knowing precisely. “They don’t tell the test subjects why they’re being experimented on. I just know it involved putting tech inside me, and controlling my environment, and monitoring my responses to emotional stimulus—"
She cuts me off with a shake of her head. “I saw. You attacked your brother when Jed was born.”
My stomach drops to my toes. I swallow hard. She knows more about me, seen more of what I’m capable of, and she’s still speaking to me?
“I’m not proud of what I can do when provoked. But if I had to, I’d do it again. Jed deserved a chance at life.”
Her eyes drift to the open door to the hut. Her posture stiffens so I know Kit is waiting for me.
I extend my hand to Mallory, leaving it there between us as a bridge I hope she’ll cross.
She doesn’t hesitate but her expression stays blank as she grips my hand and holds tight.
I manage a tiny smile as we reach the hut and I see Jackson lying on the bed, looking pissed off.
He smirks at me. “Please tell me you at least managed to bust a couple G skulls again? Drew said they shut off the camera inside your room. We have no footage. Not like last time.”
I flinch as Mallory’s fingers leave mine and she stares at the floor. I flick a look around the hut, expecting to see a spikey haired cocky Trey hanging around.
“Where’s Trey?”
When no one looks me in the eye. I know it’s bad. “Right,” I say as I sit down on the couch.
I don’t want to be tactless given Kit’s relationship with Trey, and his friendship with Jackson, so I clear my throat and try not to put my foot in it. “Do you know where he is?”
It’s Mallory who answers in a shaky voice while the others exchange glances. “We’re not sure. He might be with some of the ghosts who were taken.”
I look to Kit, hoping she remembers her earlier promise to me. “Hold up. Who are these ghosts?”
Kit slumps back in her chair, looking about as tired as I feel. Whatever answer she gives, it’s not going to be overly simple, and judging by the dark look crossing Jackson’s face, the G will be involved.
“The ghosts are the original experiments and their descendants,” Kit begins.
I don’t really even need to hear the rest.