Page 41 of Betraying Family Vows

Silence falls between us.

The gas gauge catches my eye, needle hovering just above E. Shit.

We won't make it to another station.

The road begins to wind, climbing slightly as we approach the mountains. The moon is bright enough to illuminate the landscape. Dry vegetation and up ahead, ancient ruins, columns rising from the earth.

Faint ropes block off access to what's left of the area. It looks like an old tourist site that's been abandoned.

Suddenly, the car sputters and the engine coughs, struggling for the last drops of fuel as I guide us toward the ruins.

"What's happening?" Athena asks, panic lacing her voice.

"We're out of gas," I say as the car dies completely.

I coast to a stop on a small dirt track about fifty yards from the ruins. Far enough that no one driving by would notice the vehicle. Close enough that I can walk there without bleeding out.

I reach behind the seat, grab my bag, the first aid kit, and a bottle of water. "Come on. We can't stay here."

She hesitates, then opens her door.

I get out, clenching my teeth to hide the pain as the movement sends fire through my muscles. I start walking and Athena joins me. In the moonlight, she looks like a ghost. Her dark hair wild around her blood-streaked face, my borrowed clothes hanging off her frame.

"There," I point to the ruins. "We'll hide there until morning."

She doesn't argue. Just follows as I lead us toward the columns.

A flimsy rope barrier surrounds the ruins, a pathetic attempt to keep tourists from climbing all over history. I step over it without a second thought.

"We can't go in there," Athena says, stopping at the barrier. "It's protected. Archaeological site."

I look back at her. "We just killed how many men, and you're worried about trespassing?"

She looks at me for a moment and then steps over the rope.

We walk through fallen columns and broken stone, careful of our footing in the dark. Every inch of me aches. I'm banged up worse than I thought.

The area seems to be a small temple, half-collapsed but still impressive even after thousands of years.

Near the back, partially hidden by vegetation, stands a small structure with three walls intact and part of a roof. Once a storage room or maybe a priest's quarters. Now, it'll be our shelter for the night.

"What is this place?" Athena asks.

"Plato lived here," I say as I duck through the low entrance.

Athena makes a small sound, almost a laugh. "Pretty sure he didn't."

I turn and give her a look.

"Wait. You're joking, right?" she asks, hands on her hips.

I shrug. "Maybe he came here once."

Truth is, half these places are nameless to me. Just old stones where people thought their gods would protect them.

"Shit," I hiss, knees buckling.

Athena's there, fast. She grabs my arm, steadying me.