Page 40

The pre-collapse military bunker turns out to be perfect for hiding from Unity patrols. It's also perfect for awkward silences.

We've been here eight hours, and Trent and I have managed to exchange exactly ten words since our interrupted moment in the forest. Every time our eyes meet, electricity crackles between us, and we both find somewhere else to look.

Meanwhile, Vex watches everything with those predatory amber eyes, missing nothing.

"Drone patrols have increased," he announces, returning from a scouting mission. "They've established a search grid centered on our last known position."

"Perimeter?" Trent asks, all business despite the dark circles still lingering under his eyes.

"Five-kilometer radius. Expanding."

I examine the makeshift map we've created on the bunker's dusty floor. "They're committing significant resources for just three fugitives."

"Not just fugitives," Vex corrects. "A Splinter security chief, a former elite Sentinel, and a genetic anomaly Unity considers critical to national security."

When he puts it that way, the attention almost seems flattering.

"We need to keep moving," Trent says, studying the map. "The longer we stay in one place?—"

"The easier to track us, yes," Vex interrupts. "But moving without a destination is equally dangerous."

"What about the secondary rendezvous point?" I suggest. "The abandoned settlement Reid mentioned."

Both men consider this.

"Thirty kilometers northeast," Trent calculates. "Through heavily patrolled territory."

"But if we made it," Vex admits, "it would provide secure communications to contact Haven's Edge."

"So we go northeast," I decide. "Through Unity patrols if necessary."

The plan set, we gather our limited supplies. As I check my pack, Trent approaches, close enough that his scent envelops me—clean sweat, detox compound, and something uniquely him that makes my pulse quicken.

"About yesterday," he begins quietly.

"Not now," I cut him off, though my body hums with the memory of his touch. "Mission focus."

He studies me for a moment, then nods once. "Mission focus."

It's our old shorthand from Sentinel days—all emotional complications deferred until after objectives are complete. Except this time, the emotions feel anything but simple.

And my body still remembers exactly how his lips and hands felt.

How every part of him felt.

We exit the bunker as afternoon shadows lengthen, providing decent cover for movement.

Vex takes point, his enhanced senses perfect for detecting patrols before they spot us.

Trent covers our rear, leaving me in the middle again.

The formation makes tactical sense but keeps both men out of my direct sight—a small relief given my conflicted feelings.

The landscape grows more rugged as we push northeast, abandoned settlements occasionally visible in the distance. Evidence of the old world before collapse, before Unity, before everything changed.

"Hold," Vex signals suddenly, dropping into a crouch.

We freeze instantly. My hearing stretches outward, catching what triggered his warning—the low rumble of engines approaching from the east.

"Unity transport," I whisper. "Heavy class."

"Three vehicles," Vex confirms. "Moving fast."

"Patrol or pursuit?" Trent asks, scanning for cover.

"Too direct for random patrol," Vex says. "They're following something."

"Us?"

"Possibly. Or—" Vex's expression sharpens. "Down, now!"

We drop flat as a drone sweeps overhead, its sensors humming at frequencies only our enhanced hearing can detect. It hovers briefly before continuing northeast—the same direction we're heading.

"They're converging on the rendezvous point," Trent realizes. "They know about it."

A chill runs through me. "How? That information wasn't in the relay transmission."

"The infiltrator at Haven's Edge," Vex concludes grimly. "Ellis must have had access to more than we realized."

"We need to warn anyone waiting for us," I say, already calculating risks. "If sympathizers are there expecting a rendezvous?—"

"They'll be walking into a trap," Trent finishes.

We exchange glances, decision made without words. The rendezvous is compromised, but we can't abandon potential allies .

"New plan," Vex says. "We parallel the Unity force, observe their deployment, then determine if extraction is possible."

We adjust course, moving through increasingly broken terrain. The going is slower now, requiring careful navigation around unstable ground and collapsed structures. My enhanced vision picks out safe paths, modifications adapting automatically to the challenging environment.

I try not to think about how natural these abilities feel now—how quickly I've accepted this new body, these new capabilities. How right they seem despite everything Unity taught me about genetic purity.

Two hours of cautious travel brings us to a ridge overlooking what was once a small town. Now it's mostly rubble, with a few structures still partially intact. Unity forces have established a perimeter, transport vehicles positioned at strategic access points.

"Standard containment formation," Trent observes as we study the deployment from our concealed position. "They're expecting targets to approach from multiple directions."

"Drone coverage is thorough," Vex adds. "No obvious gaps in their surveillance."

I scan the area, counting enemy personnel. "Three teams of six operators. Heavy weapons, capture equipment."

"Including suppressant deployment systems," Trent notes, pointing to distinctive launchers mounted on the transports. "They came prepared for modified targets."

"Any sign of sympathizers?" I ask, searching for evidence of our would-be allies.

"Nothing obvious," Vex says. "But if they're using concealment protocols?—"

A sudden flash of movement catches my attention—a shadow sliding between buildings at the settlement's far edge. Too controlled to be random, too subtle for standard Unity personnel .

"There," I whisper. "Northeast quadrant, second structure."

Vex focuses where I'm pointing, his modified vision zooming further than mine. "Two figures. Moving with purpose. Definitely not Unity."

"Sympathizers walking into an ambush," Trent confirms.

"We need to warn them," I say immediately.

"How?" Vex challenges. "Any approach triggers the perimeter. Any communication risks interception."

I study the deployment pattern again, looking for weaknesses. "The drainage system. I’d read that the old towns like this always had underground water management. Sewers, I think they were called. If it's still intact?—"

"We could bypass the surface perimeter," Trent finishes, already seeing the strategy.

"I go alone," I decide. "Smaller target, better chance of success."

"Absolutely not," both men say simultaneously.

"I'm the fastest," I argue. "And my modifications can adapt to whatever's down there."

"Which is exactly why Unity wants you," Trent counters. "If you're captured?—"

"I go with her," Vex interrupts. "You maintain position here as lookout and backup."

Trent's jaw tightens, but he can't argue with the tactical logic. He simply doesn’t possess the skills that Vex’s system does. "Thirty minutes. If you're not back or signaling, I'm coming in."

We locate a drainage access point hidden beneath collapsed rubble at the settlement's edge. The opening is narrow, barely wide enough for shoulders, descending into darkness that would be impenetrable without enhanced vision.

"I'll go first," Vex says, already easing into the opening. "Stay close."

I follow him into the underground passage, immediately assaulted by the stench of stagnant water and decay. The tunnel extends beneath the settlement, branching occasionally into smaller channels. Vex navigates with the confidence of someone used to moving through hostile environments.

"Your modifications adapting okay?" he asks softly as we splash through ankle-deep water.

"Fine," I confirm, though the air down here is thick with contaminants my body is busily processing. "You?"

"This is nothing compared to what I've survived," he says, a rare reference to his past.

We continue in silence, guided by Vex's mental map of the surface structures above. The tunnel gradually narrows until we're moving in a crouch, the ceiling pressing uncomfortably close.

"Here," Vex stops beneath what appears to be an access point. "Should put us near the building where we spotted movement."

He reaches up, testing the cover. It shifts slightly but doesn't open. "Blocked from above. Need to find another exit."

A splash behind us freezes us both. Not a random drip—something moving in the tunnel we just traversed.

"Unity?" I mouth silently.

Vex shakes his head—uncertain. We press against the tunnel wall, waiting. The silence stretches until I think I might have imagined the sound. Then—another splash, closer now.

Vex draws a knife, eyes gleaming in the darkness. I do the same, gripping the weapon he gave me before our separation at the relay station.

A figure appears around the bend—humanoid but moving with unnatural fluidity, as if boneless. My enhanced vision picks out details that send alarm through me—skin with a faint luminescent quality, eyes too large and entirely black, fingers elongated into something like claws.

Not Unity .

Something else entirely.

The figure stops, head tilting as it studies us. Then it speaks, voice oddly musical despite the tension.

"Thorne offspring. At last."

I blink in surprise at the sight. "You know me?"

"Your genetic signature precedes you." The strange figure moves closer, movements smoother than should be possible in the cramped space. "The harbinger returns."

Vex positions himself slightly in front of me, knife still ready. "Identify yourself."

The figure's oversized eyes shift to him. "Predator adaptation. Effective but limited." Then back to me. "She carries greater potential."