“No, it’s true. See, personal gain, the innate need inside living things to survive, those are powerful forces. The thing is, I’ve learned that they aren’t themostpowerful. I’ve seen it time and time again when helping shades. People will do a lot for themselves, for their own wellbeing, but they’ll do far more to save those they love. You being here, willing to take on all of this, proves it. Caring about people, it’s a double-edged sword, no doubt about it, but that doesn’t change that there’s some good there too.”
I tore my gaze away, saved from the awkwardness of the conversation by an overly familiar voice. “Don’t you all look cozy.”
Knox’s voice let me take a deeper breath. Even if I’d heard him over the radio, a part of me wouldn’t believe he’d succeeded until I could actually see him. Beside him, Aaron stood, though surprisingly there seemed less tension between the two.
Had they worked something out?
I didn’t bother asking. We had more important things to think about.
On their heels, the others arrived. Deacon and Wade came, a laptop in Wade’s hands from security to let him counter some of the measures Larkwood might try. Kit and Moa came as well, meaning the more fragile shades were safe on the empty floor, barricaded in to help ensure they didn’t get caught in the crossfire anywhere.
We were all together. It was strange, but something about seeing them all eased me.
We were getting ready to face the worst thing we ever had. This made our escape from Larkwood look like a child’s game, like nothing more than kids playing around. This was for real, though. We couldn’t back down, couldn’t risk losing, not when so much rested on the line.
“Soshi,” Bowen called, and the little girl hopped to her feet and rushed over.
Her expression held tension, even if she tried to bravely hide it. “Yeah?” she asked.
Bowen took the backpack from her, then held his hand out to Wade, Moa and Aaron. Wade gave him a hard drive while Moa and Aaron took out the SD cards from their cameras and replaced them with new cards from the backpack. Once the times were packed into the bag, Bowen handed it back.
Soshi’s hand trembled as she took them and slid the bag over her shoulders. “That’s it?”
Bowen nodded. “That’s it. Do you remember where you’re going?”
Soshi pointed in the direction of the town. The desert was vast, but we’d hidden supplies along the way so she could make the distance easily. She had a compass and knew how to read it, how to guide herself back to where friends of Bowen’s waited. The idea of sending her on this mission, of leaving her on her own, made my chest ache.
Knowing that didn’t change that it was the right choice, though. Soshi was young but she was tough. She could move quickly, and because of her skills, she could protect herself if she needed to.Her small size would let her escape notice more easily than others and no one knew her face or was looking for her.
Still, it didn’t feel right.
Even with Bowen’s words, with the realization that she would have a future for herself, that she’d have to survive this world on her own eventually, I hated that she had to be here, that she had to do any of this. She shouldn’t have to face these dangers.
Which reminded me again why I’d kept my distance from anyone, especially children. The idea of losing them terrified me.
I swallowed and jerked my gaze away from her before I said something stupid.
“You be careful,” Bowen said as he set his hand on her head to ruffle her hair, the affection clear. “Move fast, stay out of sight, and get these files to our contact.”
Soshi curled her fingers around the straps of the bag, and it would take a blind man to not see the fear on her face. Still, she nodded. “I’ll get it done,” she promised before taking off toward the outer wall. We’d had the ability to set up this time, which meant it hadn’t taken much to dig a small area out under the wall. Soshi wasn’t large, so she could fit, and Deacon ensured the guard paths avoided the spot for the day.
We all watched Soshi go, like some beacon of hope for us. No, that wasn’t entirely fair—she was despair as much as hope, a symbol of what we had to do, what we had to risk, to save us all.
Kit was the first to break the silence. He rolled his shoulders, his expression dark. “I guess this is my turn, isn’t it?”
He didn’t wait, didn’t hesitate or look afraid. No, he seemed almost excited.
Then again, Kit had lived here longer than anyone else, had suffered longer and deeper than the rest of us. If anyone had a score to settle with Larkwood, it was him.
He walked forward, away from the wall where we stood, away from the hidden space we’d created for ourselves. His steps were slow and careful, without a speck of fear.
When he reached the center of the yard, outside of the front door, he rose to his full height, his body shimmering as he changed into his other form.
And again, I found myself grateful to not be pitted against him. My berserker was scary, but in a different way. I was fire and rage, but Kit? He was darkness incarnate, hunger made flesh. The thing that stood there looked like something that could devour the entire world.
And yet…he mattered to me. Just like the others, like Wade and his stupid jokes, Deacon and his shitty attitude, Knox and the way he tried to hide everything he hated about himself. They were as much a part of me as Hera, a found family that I’d never wanted but now cherished.
Kit stood there, one of the antlers on his head missing—his own sacrifice to the cause—and he held his hands out, the unnaturally long claws tipped with black nails. Never had his black eyes looked as fitting as right now. It almost felt as if he were source itself, like he was a glimpse of what had made us all.