Page 47

When she inched closer, Brock shouted, “Stop!”

His breath came in ragged gasps, eyes wide as he fixated onSerene, who sat with her back straight, a fire in her eyes that practicallydaredthe woman to try carving her up.

Khalani could almost feel the woman’s cold, calculating smile as she stood and turned back to Brock, lovingly scraping her finger on the edge of the blade.

“I’m a Death-Zoner,” Brock hissed through his teeth. “I’ve traveled from Apollo to Hermes multiple times, transporting resources.”

“Really?” The woman stepped closer, a sharper interest in her tone. “What kind of resources?”

“Medicine. Food. Guns.”

The woman froze at the last word and both men stiffened, an unknown look passing between them.

Khalani discreetly wriggled her hands, trying to free herself from the bindings while they were distracted.

“He’s lying, Chief,” one of the men spat. “He’s probably the one supplying the Sinners with those weapons.”

“Or we can use them,” the other man suggested. “Integrate them into the Desert Spring. Make them supplyuswith more weapons instead. Take the advantage that way.”

“Too risky,” the man said. “I say we kill them all.”

The woman remained eerily silent as the men brazenly discussed their imminent murder.

Khalani’s gaze darted around the dimly lit room, desperately searching for any clue or glimmers of hope that might offer a way out.

Then, a bold idea sparked in her mind.

“What if we help each other?”

The woman scoffed, turning to Khalani. “What makes you think we need your help?”

“If it’s weapons that you’re looking for. We can help you,” she insisted.

The woman’s shoulders tensed, Khalani’s words striking achord. But she folded her arms across her chest, her expression inscrutable. “We already have more guns now, courtesy of you.”

“Our ammunition will only last you so long.”

A heavy stillness filled the room, broken only by the erratic flicker of the overhead bulb. Every eye was fixed on Khalani and she forced herself to remain calm.

“What exactly are you suggesting?” the woman asked sharply.

“If you let us go,” Khalani gulped, “we’ll bring back the weapons you need from Hermes. But there’s something else. There was another woman with us. She was injured.” The pounding in her heart increased. “Where is she?”

“Unlike the Sinners, the Desert Spring doesn’t kill old defenseless women.”

“So, she’s safe?” Khalani asked, her voice trembling as she tried to inch forward, but the rope cut into her skin.

“For now,” the woman tactfully replied.

Khalani’s teeth gnashed together, fighting the urge to scream and demand Winnie’s whereabouts but she took a deep breath, trying to hold it together.

“So, will you agree to our trade?” Khalani pressed.

“No.”

Her mouth fell open. “No?”

The woman spun on her. “That’s right. Evenifyou are who you say you are, there’s no guarantee you’ll honor your end of the bargain and return from Hermes.”