Chapter 31
Prairie Fire
That shout hit, and Eren's ears went thick—Nova yelling, or the ring and blackout from cracking his head off the armor. He couldn't sort which.
In the seam of the housing the pale-blue glow stuttered, then hung half a beat.
In that half-beat Lila kicked off the wall, rolled out sideways, and took the floor on her shoulder. The last bolts in her quiver crashed together.
A thin hiss.
A flash—dead white edged green—skimmed past the back of her skull, burned the tips of her hair, and drove straight into the beam behind her.
Then the boom.
The vault came down. Concrete and a wave of dust smashed into their faces; the tunnel, already dim, went blind. The corridor shuddered once, and the floor dropped under their feet.
The trooper went to one knee.
Eren clamped the barrel harder with his left. His other hand dug into the seam at the neck plate and tore a tube free from inside.
Warm mucus came with it as the socket ripped loose and spattered the back of his hand—already glazed with blood. Through a gap in the armor he saw a small metal port set into the flesh at the nape, ringed in blanched skin.
Never seen one. Some kind of neural jack, he guessed.
The trooper locked up. Breathing behind the visor went raw and heavy at once.
Eren gave him nothing. Left hand on the barrel, he flung the rifle; it clanged into the rubble.
Eren bent right after, caught the helmet rim, and hauled up. The man's neck snapped back. Helmet and the tubes still clipped to it tore free together, and the whole face came clear.
Chin tipped in the gray-yellow light: young, stubble unfinished on the jaw. Lips worked open. Air scraped from the throat in little pushes, like he meant to shout and couldn't finish a word. His eyes swept the corridor, then flicked to his own shoulder plate—hunting for an answer that should have been in his earpiece. The exoskeleton sat like it was welded to the floor; an arm rose halfway and fell.
He'd never dreamed he'd go down here—in a hole like this, to a pack of "primitives."
Blood ran down Eren's cheek and dripped onto the face below.
Eren's fingers flared. The heel of his palm jammed under the jaw and pinned him. Yellow lines still burned under his skin. Blood on his knuckles smeared into the corner of the man's mouth.
Lila's bolt was already on the string.
The trooper jerked toward her. Pupils shrank to pinpoints—fear cut with a dull, blank confusion.
A hard twang.
The tip drove into the tear at the neck, into the metal port left bare.
Eren still hadn't let go. Both hands locked on either side of the skull. Knuckles tightened. Bone gave with a wet crack, and the skull collapsed under the press.
Lila stood a few steps off, crossbow in hand, face gone slack.
A thin rasp came from beyond the broken wall. Nova clung to the stone, white. His eyes found the heap on the floor and snapped away at once.
Lila came back to herself, tore a strip from beside her quiver, and held it out.
Eren took it. He didn't wrap his head—only clenched the cloth. Two crooked steps and he caught Nova's shoulder.
His other hand flicked at Lila.
"Move."
He hauled them both, weaving, over the fallen trooper. Two or three strides and they were at the door the quake had wrenched askew.
Same moment, above ground.
The commander in dark battleplate stood behind a half-collapsed brick wall. Static filled his headset. On the screen, every blue dot that had still been lit was gone.
No contact. No fix on his people. He didn't panic—only waved a nearby trooper in.
"Find every team. Tell them search is suspended. Rally on me. Now. Hostiles may have an EMP weapon."
He didn't believe the last line himself. Intel and their sweep said the enemy's best kit was exploding arrows.
The words were barely out when broken scraps of voice scratched in his ear again.
Lila hooked the long crossbow back on her shoulder and squeezed through the door gap first. Her feet locked.
Low room. Metal lockers and iron cots along the walls. Deep in, a concrete beam lay slanted down.
In the gap under that fallen beam, someone was curled.
The outdoor vest with a button missing was still on him. From the left knee down, the beam had swallowed the leg—pants and flesh mashed into one mess. Only a scuffed hiking boot showed out of the dust.
"Lin Ce!"
Two steps and she was down beside him. Her hand found him—and the pulse under her fingers was a thread.
His lips moved. A long beat before sound came. "…Lila?"
"Yeah." She took his hand. "We're getting you out."
He couldn't sort the shapes. A few breaths later, voice in pieces:
"I can't walk…"
Lila froze.
Then he looked at his own leg.
"…Mr. Shen told me to hide here." He coughed; the smell of blood thickened. "I was fine. Then something happened outside. I just wanted a look… and it came down on me…"
Her grip on his hand went dead. A buzz in her ears. She nearly went over.
His words cut deeper than the blood on his leg.
The room fell away. Scenes flipped through her head.
Down the mountain—she'd wiped the sweat and dragged Eren and Nova back up. The hard fighting's mine, she'd said. And she'd still hauled the kid to the edge of a firefight.
Outside the bolt-hole—she'd promised Eren they'd leave the second they hit enemy. The trooper showed at the door and she'd still refused to pull out. When Eren and Nova followed, she'd smiled. At what? That someone was finally willing to die with her?
Inside—she'd nearly been erased. Eren's face full of blood. Nova shaking in the wall shadow. And Lin Ce had been fine, tucked away, until he peeked because something happened outside…
What she'd put on the table wasn't only her own life. She hadn't even known what shape the man they were saving was in—and she'd gone all in. Almost killed herself. Almost killed them.
And now she'd gotten the one who'd been fine.
"Lila?" Lin Ce's call couldn't clear the mess in her head.
Nothing would come out of her throat. Her fingers were still on his wrist, grip gone wrong—too hard or too soft, she couldn't tell.
Eren dropped to one knee by the fallen beam, palm under the lower edge, back twisting. The beam rose a couple of centimeters.
Dust fell at once and mixed with the blood on his face until he couldn't open his eyes.
A seam opened under the beam. The leg that showed was already past shape. Dark-red blood still welled and spread over the pool beneath him. Lila's fingertips found the pant leg—cold and wet, nothing else.
Eren pushed for more. Lin Ce forced half a sound from his throat: "Don't—"
Eren eased off. The beam settled. Lin Ce dragged a hard breath. Overhead, rubble and beam were locked; forcing it higher could bring the rest down—and besides…
"It was me…" Lila's voice shook hard. "I'm sorry. I dragged you all… in."
Lin Ce got two breaths and smiled. "How could it be? I should thank you… for coming back for me."
He forced his right hand free from under himself. Something rolled in it—a leather notebook, blood and ash so thick the color was gone, rubber-banded tight.
"Manuscript… my research." He nudged it toward Lila. "Take it."
Then he dug an envelope from a vest pocket. Crushed flat, one corner soaked through, seal still closed. Two lines on the face. Eren only caught the signature—Shen.
"From Mr. Shen… he gave it to me."
Eren took envelope and notebook. The envelope was light—a sheet or two inside, at most.
Lila stayed crouched, fingers locked on his wrist.
"I don't want to leave you here." Her voice was already breaking.
Lin Ce didn't look at her face. His eyes went past her and found Eren.
"Eren."
"Mm."
He didn't speak the next line at once. The eyes that lit when he researched—left one still held a last scrap of light.
"…Take care of her."
Muffled footfalls overhead. Several people. Metal soles grinding stone, pressing down through concrete.
Eren shoved envelope and manuscript into his jacket and pushed up off the wall.
Lila's hand was still on Lin Ce's wrist.
"Lila."
Eren said her name.
She didn't move.
"Go."
He caught her arm. The other hand had Nova.
Lila let go. When she stood she turned her face away, knuckles white and cracking, and didn't look back.