Page 27

MARS

S he’s fading.

No one wants to say it out loud, but it’s there.

I can feel it in the way she looks through us instead of at us.

The way she curls in on herself at night like she’s trying to take up less space in a world that’s already trying to erase her.

I hate it, and I hate that we’re failing her. That I’m failing her.

She looks so damn breakable tonight, and all I can think is I should be the one holding her together. Not watching her fall apart.

She sits near the fire, picking at the frayed edge of her denim shorts. Her knees are bent at an awkward angle to keep them out of the dirt, and we still haven’t found any thread to stitch up her shin.

Then there’s the matter of her wrist. I can tell her wounds still cause her pain. I should ask if she’s okay, but I don’t. Not yet. There’s something deeper I want to tend to first.

Luna lies curled against Autumn’s side, the dog’s dark eyes tracking every movement around the camp.

Even Luna seems to sense something’s wrong.

She hasn’t left Autumn’s side for more than a few minutes since the bunker.

Her presence is the only thing that draws any reaction from Autumn now.

When her hands move to pet her, or to hold the music box she won’t open.

I crouch in front of Autumn and hold out a dented tin cup. It has the last of the hot water in it, steeped with some kind of burnt leaf Caspian swore helped digestion. “Drink. Don’t ask what it is.”

She blinks up at me and takes it without argument. One hand moves to rest on Luna’s fur. That’s what worries me most. I miss my wild little lunatic who steals socks and tosses molotovs like party favors.

I sit beside her, careful not to disturb Luna’s position, and wait a minute. Then two. Then I say the words I’ve never said out loud. “Two years.”

She looks over with a confused expression, though her fingers continue their absent stroking of Luna’s coat.

“I was in the special forces. You know, before the world burned. Two years.” I stare at the dancing flames. “I was good. Fast, smart, and obedient. A living weapon. Every commanding officer’s wet dream.”

Her eyes narrow on the word obedient.

“Until we were sent into a civilian zone on a covert operation. No engagement. Track the target, confirm the location, and extract clean.” I swallow hard before I say the next part.

“There were civilians trapped inside the compound. Men, women, and children. The intel said it was abandoned.” I huff a pathetic laugh. “Well, it wasn’t.”

Her fingers curl around the tin tighter, and Luna shifts closer, pressing her nose against Autumn’s arm as if sensing the tension.

“I made a call. Blew our cover to get them out. They lived. Mission failed.”

She’s still quiet, but I’m not done. I need to get this out.

“I was court-martialed. Discharged. Stripped of rank, honors, and record. They told me I was reckless. That I was a danger to those around me, and I couldn’t be trusted.” There’s a beat of silence. “If I had to do it again, I’d make the same call. Every damn time.”

“You saved people. That’s never the wrong choice.” Her voice is so soft.

I don’t realize how much I needed someone to say that until I feel my chest go tight, but that’s not the point of my story. I’m not here to make myself feel better. I’m here for her.

“But the truth is, I ruined the mission. Some people still died because of the choice I made, and I’ve never stopped blaming myself. I might never.”

A small, sad smile crosses her lips. I hate when she’s sad. “That’s not your fault, though.”

I reach over and grab her free hand, wrapping my fingers around hers while her other hand continues to find comfort in Luna’s warm fur. “Exactly, Autumn. It’s not your fault.”

A sob erupts from her, and she covers her mouth with her free hand.

Luna immediately sits up, pressing closer against Autumn’s side and whining softly.

I lean over, cup her jaw, and kiss her temple.

She shudders once beneath my touch, and her scent of smoke and tears and something purely her, fills my lungs.

“I will be whatever you need me to be. Want to take out your anger? My abs can take it. Want to cry yourself to sleep? My arms are wide open. Want to scream and shout obscenities? My body is your literal verbal punching bag.”

Her hand falls away from her mouth, and she tilts her head up to look at me. Luna settles back down, but she keeps her head resting on Autumn’s thigh, those dark eyes still watchful. “Why are you so good to me?” she whispers. “You barely even know me.”

I lean down and brush my lips against hers, tasting the salt from her tears. “Don’t you know? I’m your guardian angel, and I never knew I was scouring the earth looking for you my whole life until I finally found you.”

Autumn is finally asleep when I step away from the fire to check the perimeter. I’m a little paranoid now ever since I brought a group of rotters over for a slumber party. That’s not a mistake I intend to make again.

I guess it shouldn’t surprise me when I see Jace already there, leaning against the damaged car with his arms crossed, like he’s been expecting me. Somehow, he looks even more dangerous when he’s not ripping the car apart.

“You need something?” I ask.

He doesn’t look at me. He keeps staring at the same spot on the dirt by my feet. “We can’t stay here much longer. Every day we stay in the same place, not searching, is a day wasted. You’re all acting like you’ve already given up.”

“She needed time.”

“She needs her sister. Not pity and delusions.”

My hands fist by my sides. “Is that what you think I’m giving her?”

“I think you’re getting too close.”

My lip curls and I take a step forward. “And you’re not?”

He doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t need to. He’s not mad I’m getting too close. He’s jealous because I already am, and she’s letting me in. Maybe that scares him more than the rotters or fire or whatever the hell broke him before the world ever could.

“I’ve seen the way you look at her, Jace. If anyone else had stepped in front of you while you were going to town with that crowbar, they would need stitches and probably a limb transplant. Stop pushing her away when she needs us now more than ever. Stop punishing her for your own issues.”

His jaw clenches, and he doesn’t speak.

I tilt my head. “Jealousy looks good on you?—”

His fist makes contact with my jaw before I can finish the sentence. My head whips to the side and stars explode behind my eyes.

I stumble back a step, spitting blood. “Oh. So that’s where we’re going now. That’s fine. I’ve been aching for a good fight.”

Without bothering to wipe off the fresh blood on my skin, I swing.

My fist slams into his ribs and I feel the air punch out of his lungs.

He tackles me into the side of the car. Metal groans under our weight, and we slam to the ground, fists flying.

I don’t think, don’t hesitate, and neither does he.

This isn’t about her anymore. It’s about everything else. Every loss. Every failure. Every scream we couldn’t quell.

Every time we watched her cry and knew we couldn’t fix it.

That’s something we both have in common. We save people. And when we can’t? Well, it breaks us.

I land a blow to his temple. He hits my ribs again. We roll in the dirt. Ash clouds the air around us.

“Stop it,” a voice shouts. Autumn’s voice.

We don’t stop. Not until Caspian steps between us and shoves us apart. We scramble to our feet, breathing hard, fists still clenched, each one silently daring the other to make the next move.

Jace stares at me, his chest heaving. The scar through his eyebrow practically glows when he glowers. “You think this makes you worthy of her?”

I wipe the blood from my mouth and grin, ignoring the pain flaring through my busted lip. “No, but I’m not the one running from her, either.”

Jace wipes blood off the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. His dark brown eyes blaze. “Fine. I’ll do it my own damn self.”

He turns and stalks away from the perimeter with his shoulders rigid.

What’s he getting himself into now ?

I glance at Caspian, who’s still standing in front of me with concern written across his pale features.

Then I look back at Autumn, who’s watching with a hand over her mouth.

I want nothing more than to go to her and wrap my arms around her and be her anchor again, but there’s something else I need to do right now.

“Keep an eye on her, Caspian.” My gut twists even as I say it.

I don’t want to leave her. Not now. But this need to be done.

Caspian nods, and I brush past him to catch up to Jace. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

“To do what needs to be done,” he grits out. “I’ll find her sister on my own.”

“You can’t go alone, you stubborn asshole. You don’t even know what she looks like.”

He spins around on me, his brown eyes darkening. His hand trembles when it clenches. He’s ready to snap. Good. I want to see him snap. Let him break apart already. Maybe he’ll finally pull the stick from his ass.

“I don’t need your goddamn help.” He continues moving with long strides.

“Tough shit. I’m not letting you die alone, either. You’re still my friend, regardless of whether you even want to be.”

His laugh is bitter. “You think this is about me? You think chasing after me makes you some fucking hero? You think a few soft touches and well-timed kisses will fix what’s broken in you? You want her to see you as the one who fixes everything, all because you couldn’t save the ones before her.”

The blow hits harder than his fist ever could.

My hands clench, but I shove past the instinct to hit him again, even though I really want to make his nose bleed to match his lip. “At least I’m not too scared to let her in. You’re so afraid of losing her, you’re doing it already.”