Page 7 of Faron (The Golden Team #8)

Faron

“ W here the hell is she?” I muttered, eyes scanning every shadow.

The cave was empty. Her presence—gone. But then I saw the note, scrawled in her sharp, rushed handwriting.

Faron,

I’m glad you finally went to sleep. I had to leave, maybe I’ll see you around sometime.

We, after all, live in a small world.

–Blue

My chest tightened like someone’d punched the air out of me. Damn her.

I looked down at Bear, who was watching me like he already knew. I scooped him up and pulled him into my arms.

“I thought you were dead, buddy,” I whispered. “I love you.” I kissed the top of his ragged head, breathing him in.

The others were still out cold. I gave them a few more minutes, then gently shook them awake.

Chuck blinked up at me, groggy. Joel stretched and winced.

“It’s good to be out of that prison,” Chuck muttered. “Did I thank you?”

“Once or twice. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

Joel rubbed his leg. “Where’s Blue?”

“She’s gone. Left a note.” I folded it and shoved it into my pocket. “We’re heading up over the mountain. Can you both climb?”

“Yeah,” Joel said. “We’ve come this far. Not stopping now.”

“She needs to get out before they find her,” he added, quieter.

We moved out at first light, climbing the rocky ridge in silence. Hours passed. Bear limped until I couldn’t take it anymore and carried him like a child.

We hit a patch of shade beneath a gnarled old tree. Up ahead, oranges dotted the limbs.

“Let’s rest there,” I said. “Refuel.”

Chuck brightened. “Hell yeah. I’m filling my damn pockets.”

Joel sank to the ground like gravity had doubled. I handed him a fruit, peeled it for him. He devoured it like it was a steak dinner.

I stayed standing, watching the horizon.

“At one time,” Chuck said between bites, “I thought you and Blue would get married. What happened?”

“Why are you always so nosy?”

“Comes with being locked in a cell for too long. Gotta live through other people now.”

I didn’t answer.

I didn’t want to talk about Blue. Couldn’t, really. It still felt like seeing a ghost. The fact she’d stayed here—seven years? Had she really been hiding in caves, patching up wounds, choosing this chaos over peace?

Chuck stared out into the trees. “How long we resting?”

“Not long. Joel doesn’t look too good.”

Chuck nodded. “He’s been sick a while. The food they gave us—if you can even call it that—was foul. And the water…” he trailed off, biting into another orange. “We only ate enough to stay alive. Barely.”

I looked at Joel’s sunken cheeks, his pallor. We needed to move. Fast. But my mind was still back in that cave.

With her.

“Did she say she’s been here seven years?” I asked.

“No, while you were sleeping she told me she became a doctor and decided to come back to help the Americans who were still trying to get out. She’s been here two years,” Chuck said.