Page 60

Reina

I was most certainly terrified. Not sure how great I hid it but it was true. When I’d signed on to this whole thing, being on the front-lines wasn’t exactly what I’d meant. But no , my entire family wanted to be front and center, now here I was—adjusting the reins of a borrowed horse. A stubborn bay gelding that never felt quite right. He just wasn’t my Nala, the beautiful mare that she was. I shivered, the memory of the river—cold, rushing, and merciless against my magic.

It was freezing—catching me off guard. My body locked up as did my mind. Using my gifts to free myself from the unforgiving void of moving water hadn’t occurred to me until it was beyond too late to help myself. Nala was so heavy. She’d done her best to keep me afloat but she couldn’t … I choked at the taste of loss.

The Outskirts stretched around us in the dead, foggy light. Every inch of this place was wrong. I’d never been to the East Coast in The Before but from my understanding, it was like, really pretty. Wherever we were crawling through right now was the complete opposite. Skeletal remains of buildings leaned against each other, ready to collapse. Burned-out vehicles were rusted in the first, the paint of them stripped away from both time and the elements.

Faded out posters were torn into pieces, my father’s stern face staring back through the bits. The message underneath it made me want to throw up: A safer world. A better future. Ironic considering the backdrop to such art was the starved bodies left to rot in doorways—like they were crawling out to find a scrap of anything to keep them alive.

Isabella rode up alongside me. “It’s worse than we thought.”

I nodded, gently easing the tension of the group. Some of the territories certainly had it harder than others, but it was never this . There were still snippets of empathy among us. That was not the case here—their leader, my father, did not care if they suffered. They weren’t worth his time.

“We should keep our eyes sharp,” Millie spoke up, filling the unintentional silence to spare me the spiral I was about to go down. She adjusted her hat as she trotted past me, leading the way.

The swings on the playground to our right creaked in the wind. A child’s toy—a headless doll lay crumpled in the mud. The creepy thing had a vacant, mocking smile.

I saw him first. A boy no older than eight, clutching a jagged piece of metal from underneath the slide. His clothes hung in tatters, cheeks hollow enough to break my already aching heart. Focusing on him before alerting the others, I pushed an overwhelming sense of calm to disarm him. We were not a threat, and I had no intention of traumatizing the poor thing.

He didn’t run in our approach—just stood there, wide-eyed, and despite my best efforts, he still possessed the overwhelming fear that something terrible was about to happen to his sweet little face.

I dismounted slowly, raising my hands. “It’s okay, honey. We’re here to help. I’m Reina, what’s your name?”

“A-Asher,” he stammered, his small voice trembling as he pointed toward the hills. “My baby sister is up there, she’s hungry. Can you help us?”

Tomoe appeared beside me, slipping from the shadows with a sharp focus in her eyes. “We are not alone. Let’s move.”

The rest of the group hadn’t noticed, but Tomoe’s instincts never failed.

I turned back to Asher. “Where’s your sister?”

He pointed toward the hills. “Up there … She’s hungry.”

“Stay close,” Millie ordered. “Isabella, rear.”

Isabella fell back as we moved toward the hills. I noticed movement in the distance—shadows that didn’t belong.

Ah . So this is what a fallout shelter looked like. Apparently, ours was on the bougie side. Who knew the Appalachians were full of them? Not me. It loomed not too far ahead. Asher nestled into me, stroking the neck of my horse as if it were the best moment of his life.

My nostrils rose in disgust. There was a stale, metallic sharpness that clung to the air. I gathered my composure and dismounted at a safe distance. Millie followed suit, two others at our backs that were deemed least threatening for initial interactions. Naturally that meant Tomoe had to stay parked outside.

Asher moved silently at my side, his small hand gripping the hem of my jacket, our boots crunching on gravel and grass. I let calm trickle continuously through the tether between us, softening the jagged edges of his fear. It wasn’t much, but it was a small comfort that I could provide. One that made me happy I was here—the experience he may have had if I had not been … I didn’t want to think about it.

“I know you’re scared,” I said gently.

His gaunt, reddened face tilted up toward mine with the kind of maturity no child of any age should have. “No, not of you. Everyone wants you to win.”

My steps faltered. “Then what are they scared of?”

“Ronan.” He tightened his grip on my jacket. “If he thinks someone helped you … he’ll send them again. Like he did with my parents.”

“Who?” Millie said with a bit too much aggression. Her hand flew over her mouth, covering those adorable freckles out of embarrassment. She hadn’t meant to scare him, Millie was simply curious.

Asher flinched, and I brushed a calming hand over his head. “Zombies. They made my parents one after they got bitten.”

I clenched my jaw, shoving down the rush of fury that threatened to rise. My father— Ronan’s —experiments. First, he’d turned people into those things against their will, and now he was escalating. This wasn’t survival of the fittest anymore; it was calculated cruelty.

“Oh, you sweet—” I kneeled to meet Asher’s gaze. “You don’t have to fear that either. Whatever happens, I promise—we’ll protect you. All of you.”

His nod was faint, hesitant, but it was trust.

The shelter was nearly worse than outside. Asher guided me through narrow corridors littered with mismatched blankets, expired food, and debris pushed into corners. Faces watched from the shadows—pale, hollow-eyed, clutching loved ones tightly. Whispers followed us, low and fearful.

“It’s been a few days, we’re pretty sleepy,” Asher murmured. “He’s been sending them in waves since the wards glitched to let you through. My sister is in our room, come on.”

These people weren’t running—they were hiding, waiting, and hoping they wouldn’t be next. The air turned thick with the smell of damp earth and unwashed bodies. Makeshift beds were crammed into corners and I was pretty sure that was feces on the other wall.

“It’s been days, you said?” I asked, voice low.

Asher nodded, “The smell helps keep them away as long as we’re quiet and they don’t already know we’re here. They haven’t found this spot yet.”

“We need to remain focused on the mission,” Millie reminded me and I offered her a nod. And we would do that—find an adult to warn—but first, I was going to give these kids some food and heal what I could.

Thirty minutes had passed, and I’d done my darndest. If I could take the two of them home with me, I would. Sad as it was, that wasn’t my objective today and now we needed to do our job. Isabella was getting impatient anyway.

“War is coming this way. If you can, warn others in the area and stay hidden. I can promise you safety from our troops, but there’s no telling what will happen if you’re caught in the crossfire.”

The middle-aged woman nodded, her hair thin strands of gray that didn’t match her voice or her face. God, all I wanted to do was help. Not warn people and move on. That was the trade off of no longer simply being a medic, I supposed. Healing and helping in the sense I was accustomed to was only a small portion of this job.

A murmur rippled through the crowd, but their response was cut short by a scream.

“We got company!” Isabella’s shout snapped Millie and me to attention. “Defensive positions!”

Her command pushed us into action. I couldn’t remember much on our way out—only the call over my shoulder wishing Asher and the woman the best of luck and to lock the door behind us.

The sky had opened up in the half hour we were inside. Blinding sun disorienting me as horror unfolded. Pansies swarmed up the hill—feral, rotting creatures moving with unnatural speed. Their hollow eyes gleamed with bloodlust, teeth snapping as they homed in on us.

A mare shrieked and reared, throwing her rider directly into their path. He barely hit the ground before they descended, tearing into him with a sickening crunch that turned my stomach. I notched an arrow and fired. One fell, but more surged forward.

We charged into the fray. Horses surged forward, hooves striking the rotting creatures, sending them crumpling to the ground.

“Keep them back!” Millie shouted, still at my side, refusing to mount her horse when mine was too far to get to without a fight.

“We trained for this, silly, we got it!” I called out, the wild grin on my face causing her to frown.

She replaced it with a matching one as she pulled her spear free. “Your positivity is inspiring,” Millie mocked—something about it gave me butterflies despite the chaos around us.

We fought as if our lives depended on every strike—cavalry and ground units syncing in brutal harmony, the rhythm of our movements a life-saving dance. Each blow we landed pushed the tide back, but for every one we cut down, another took its place. Dark, viscous blood sprayed across the dirt. The Pansies were relentless, unfazed by our resistance, but we pressed on. We couldn’t afford to slow down.

I scanned the battlefield, my mind working through our dwindling options. We were overwhelmed. The ground was slick with blood, and the cavalry’s charge was slowing. I needed to buy us more space to pick them off one by one at our own pace—something big.

My eyes locked on a crumbling structure to our left, barely standing but still large enough to block the Pansies’ advance. If I could take it down, we’d have a chance.

I turned to Millie, giving her a quick nod. “Cover me,” I said, already pulling my bow. She flashed me a sharp grin and dove into the fray, drawing attention away from me.

Setting my sights on the support beams, every muscle coiled with focus.

“Please don’t miss,” Isabella shouted over the slashing of metal against flesh.

Millie laughed from her position on the field, “She doesn’t miss.”

“What she said.” My lips curved in a cocky grin.

I drew my bow, aiming for the heart of the support beam. Every muscle in my body tensed, and then I released. The arrow flew, slicing through the air, striking true. The structure cracked and splintered, collapsing with a deafening roar, and the Pansies were forced to halt, snarling as they collided with the debris.

We had a moment—a small one—but we’d used it at a cost. Time was slipping away, and we had to move fast.

“Take ‘em out, boys!” I shouted, rallying the team. “Oh, girls too, obviously.”

It was a slow effort, and of the fifty of us assigned on this mission, we were only down five. Not that loss wasn’t still a loss and all, but I supposed this was something I’d need to get used to. I could only hope the few I’d chosen to get close to would survive till the end. What a selfish thought.

We’d loaded up our dead—strapped them down to a few riderless horses to bring to the rendezvous point—checked on Asher and the shelter, then saw our way back through their fallen town. I could only pray that little boy lived to see how great the future could be.

“You good?” Moe asked, her handsome stallion paced alongside me.

I nodded, still lost in thought. “Just thinkin’ is all.”

She didn’t bother with a response. If I wanted to talk, I would; Moe understood that about me and I quite appreciated it. It was odd, I knew for nearly a year now that things were going to go from bad to worse—that we were gradually preparing for some final showdown. But we never had a clue what it was truly like beyond Covert’s borders. The way Jessa spoke of The Outskirts, how she’d done what she had out of desperation, under the threat of becoming an Outsider . I knew it was bad, but what I had seen was simply unfathomable to me until a few hours ago.

What made it worse, was that I was the daughter of the man who was responsible for it all. He had the ability to help them, to keep children from dying from hunger. Lives he claimed to care so much about sure didn’t matter unless he found the potential of their magic worth keeping alive. Stopping there wasn’t good enough for him, so terrorizing them to test out his experiments was obviously the natural next step.

Sharing his blood made me sick.

Millie’s horse shifted nervously, its ears flattening as if it senses something we could not. I glanced at Millie, making sure she was steady—her shoulders had gone stiff, her grip on the reins far too tight.

“Hey—” I yelled, but before I could get the rest out, she tensed, her body locking up as she toppled from the saddle and onto the ground like a rag doll.

I was off my horse in an instant, “Millie!”

Moe hit the ground running not far behind me, we reached her at the same time. She was convulsing.

“Millie, hey! Listen to me, you’re okay—breathe,” I said, my hands hovering over her, unsure of what I could do to help. Physically, she was fine, no injuries, no sense of disease at a quick scan. Moe crouched at her other side, keeping Millie’s frantic horse from bolting.

Her green eyes hazed over, then rolled to the back of her head. I’d seen this before. Heart pounding, I scooted under her and cradled her head in my lap. My fingers trembled as I adjusted her neck, ensuring she wouldn’t hurt herself.

Millie’s lips moved, her honeyed voice barely audible at first. “He knows … how can he … Jessa …”

A bolt of ice struck through my body, stomach churning. Jessa was with Riley’s group—helping them navigate through the unfamiliar territory.

My blood turned into ice.

“Riley and Abel,” I whispered though I knew she could not hear me. “Please—Are they okay?”

“ Oh God ,” Millie whimpered, her voice climbing higher in pitch. “He’s going to torture her. No. No. Ronan is watching.”

Her muttering continued, nonsensical fragments spilling from her lips, but my mind fixated on one thing: Jessa and Riley’s group were in danger.

The soldiers edged closer, boots and hooves crunching against the dirt as they tightened their formation. Weapons were raised, not in aggression but in a defensive readiness, their gazes darting between Millie and the horizon.

“Stay back!” I barked without thinking. They shifted uneasily, their readiness palpable.

Isabella strode into the circle, her sharp gaze snapped from Millie to the gathered soldiers. Before I could explain myself, Moe glanced at her and subtly shook her head, the message clear in her hardened expression: This is confidential.

Isabella’s mouth tightened with displeasure. “Keep moving. Slow your pace.” Her glare swept over the soldiers, cutting off any objections. “If you’re not caught up in fifteen, I’ll send a squad for you,” she added, softer as the latter was meant for only our ears.

The unit peeled away, leaving Moe and me with Millie. Not the best position to be in given what we just went through, but hey, choice becomes a mere request when you’re traveling miles and miles away from?—

I worked to soothe myself. Calm. You gotta be calm if you wanna be safe .

Millie’s murmurs quieted as her body stilled. Her head lolled as she came out of the vision. I brushed her damp hair out of her face, gently tilting her chin to meet her emerald eyes. They were wild and unfocused.

“Hey, take a breath,” I said soothingly. “You’re safe.”

“For how long?” she rasped, attempting to push herself up instinctively, but her arms buckled. I caught her before she could fall again, her limbs twitching as her nervous system struggled to regain control.

“Relax,” Moe said, still crouched beside her. “What did you see?”

Millie swallowed hard, her eyes darting around, searching for something solid to focus on. Her voice trembled as she began.

“I knew that bitch was bitter from the moment I met her but this … this goes too far. It’s Jessa, she’s going to Ronan.”

“What?” I yelped, rearing back. “My father? Ronan Moore?”

Millie’s face softened with pity as she met my tearful stare. “She’s furious—furious with Reina. About the breakup, sure, but more than that. She feels abandoned … humiliated. Like you used her for information and tossed her aside.” There was nothing but ice in her tone.

A lump formed in my throat. Jessa had always been intense—passionate in everything she did—but this?

“Shit,” Moe mumbled, backing away and running her hand through her silky hair. “She knows the plan. Where we’re going to portal in, the contingency routes—everything. She had to in order for Amaia to know how to coordinate our routes.”

“A spy is a spy, no matter how pretty,” Millie scolded, and I couldn’t explain it, but the sting of her words felt as sharp as a slap. As though she thought I should have known better from the jump.

My blood ran cold. The plan to portal directly into the capitol was risky enough without this. If Ronan knew the entry point, he’d have every advantage to trap Amaia, the cavalry and the squad going with her. He’d know that the battles waged miles away from Richmond were just a distraction for our final attack.

Moe’s knuckles whitened as her hands curled into fists. She remained silent, mentally unraveling every thread of what this meant.

“Ugh, what a fool ,” Millie ranted. “He’s going to kill her.”

My ribs constricted, the pressure suffocating. Jessa. Her name alone was enough to stir the ache I’d been trying to bury. I hadn’t ended things because I stopped caring for her. I ended things because her choices—her lies—made it impossible to stay. But this ? Was my sense of judgment so warped that I couldn’t see who she was at her core? She had never cared about doing what was right, had only cared how doing what was wrong made her look in my eyes.

“He’ll smile at her, nod along to every damn word, like he’s actually listening. But the second she gives him what he wants?—”

“We get it,” Moe snapped, her eyes flicking toward me, assessing. She’d caught the crack in my composure before I could patch it. The picture was as vivid as if I’d been there. The chill in Millie’s voice made my stomach twist. “What else?”

Millie’s eyes glazed over as she recalled the rest. “He’s watching us. Watching Amaia’s forces. Waiting. It’s like … he’s biding his time for the perfect strike. He wants her to come. To lead the charge herself. Your father is betting everything on her walking into this. He has every intention of breaking her, meeting her in the streets and making an example. And whatever’s left of us after that, will crumble.”

The silence was stifling. We all knew Amaia’s mind. Bold. Fearless. Always ten steps ahead. But my father wasn’t just her opposite; he was her equal. For years, he’d studied her every move, countered her strategies, and laid traps to exploit the vulnerabilities she didn’t even realize she had.

Moe’s voice shattered the quiet. “We can’t tell her outright.”

Millie’s head snapped up, alarm flashing in her eyes. “She has a right to know. If she’s walking into a trap?—”

“She has already decided this is worth the risk,” Moe interrupted. “He’s counting on her to adjust if she finds out. We guide her. Quietly. Shift the plan in ways he won’t see coming.”

Millie swallowed hard, clearly unconvinced, but she didn’t argue.

A kiss of light against the darkening horizon snapped us all to attention.

“That’s not Amaia,” Moe murmured.

“No,” I agreed, still shaken to the core. “Based on what Asher told us, it’s not the locals either.”

“If we can see them,” Moe said with warning. “They can see us.”

Millie grimaced, clutching her pistol as she pushed herself unsteadily to her feet. “I’m good, you can trust me. I’ll stay quiet. You earned my loyalty a long time ago,” she said, this time, directly to me. “We can head out. We’ve lingered too long already.”