Malcolm doesn’t argue, staring ahead with dreamy eyes. The crowd stops moving, we’ve come to the end of the tunnel. Rosalind climbs the ladder and works the latch on the trap door. She opens it and sand drizzles past her as she peeks out. A moment later she pushes it up and over, then climbs the rest of the way out.
One by one, people climb methodically out of the tunnel. There are so many humans down here this is going to take forever. Time crawls past, accented by creaks and groans from the structure of the tunnel.
I stay, pressed against the wall, watching and studying the tunnel. I know what I’m looking for, but if I see it, I don’t know what I could do about it. I’m feeling so much pressure that I can barely breathe. Sweat rolls down my back until finally the last people arrive and begin the climb. I help them up before following myself.
The rungs of the ladder are hot to the touch. Almost to burning. As I climb, one hand over the next, I realize the real reason I’ve stayed down here until the end. Safety and my ‘expertise’ are an excuse.
I don’t want to see.
That’s the truth. The real reason is, I don’t want to see what’s happened to the Zmaj. To Khabri.
We all know their mission was suicide. They were putting themselves out as a distraction. A desperate attempt to buy us time to escape and the vain hope we’ll reach the bunker, and from there destroy the Invaders.
But they’ll be gone. Dead.
I don’t deserve this from them. None of us do. How can one person’s life be worth more than another’s?
Gershom and all his stupid rhetoric about humans first. First over what? What makes us better than any other race? Sure I never really believed his shit, but I was scared of them, and I followed him. Like an idiot.
Halfway up the ladder, I stop. Bowing my head, eyes closed, I vow to never let myself act out of fear again. All it did was lead me down a path of blindness and stupidity. Something inside myself resonates as I accept that I’ve been a fool, but knowing that I can be better.
I can’t change the past, but I can my future. My future with Khabri.
If I have one. My arms tremble as I try to force myself up the rest of the ladder. I know I must, but I don’t want to. If I don’t go up, he’s alive.
Sweat pours into my eyes as my heart races. I’m breathing too fast and my head is spinning. I can’t do this. I can’t face it. I don’t want to know.
“Anna, come on,” a female voice says.
I tell my eyes to open and look up, but nothing happens. Damn it, I can’t stay frozen here. This is stupid.
“Anna? Are you okay?”
“I’m… I’m fine,” I say.
I force my eyes open and reach for the next rung of the ladder. One rung. He’s fine. Next rung. He has to be fine.
I emerge from the tunnel onto the oppressively hot sands. People grab and pull, helping me out the rest of the way. We’re milling around in a massive group but I turn back towards the city. I’m numb. The protective armor clanking into place to protect me because now that I’m up here, I have to know.
Rosalind is a few feet away, lying flat on the dune. I crouch and make my way up to her side, lying flat. Calista, Amara, and Jolie are all here. I force myself to look. I can’t look, but I must look. Blinking rapidly, I turn my head. My neck cracks in resistance.
The Zmaj stand in a square formation, protecting one another’s flanks and backs. There are piles of dead Invaders surrounding their formation, but it’s not enough. They’re completely surrounded. Every Invader they kill is replaced by two more.
Even more Invaders surge beyond the ones they’re fighting. The ship hovering over the city, so big its shadow reaches almost to where we are, has a glowing bright light beneath it. I barely have attention to spare for that though.
Where is he? Cold chills chase along my limbs, leaving goosepimples in its wake. I don’t see him, but he has to be okay. Wouldn’t I… feel it, or something? Isn’t that what all this fated mate bullshit is about? I’ll somehow know if he’s hurt?
I knew it was a load of crap. I don’t feel like he’s gone or hurt or anything. All I fear is scared. Terrified that I’m losing a good thing before I even have it. How can I lose so much so fast when I’ve barely tasted it?
No one on the dune says a word. I’m sure each of us is looking for our mates.
Mates. Wow I have fallen, haven’t I? But it’s true, and I know it. He is my mate. The one I want to be with. The one who makes me feel…. Whole.
Is this what he really means when he talks about fate? Is this what real love feels like? This empty ache in my heart because he’s out there, in danger? This fear that I’m about to lose him?
“I see him!” I exclaim, rising up.
Rosalind grabs my shoulder and pulls me back flat.
“Stay down,” she hisses.
My cheeks flush at her admonishment, but my heart is racing and butterflies dancing in my stomach take more of my attention than the embarrassment. He’s right there. I don’t know how I missed him.
He’s fighting next to two of the guys who are from the Order like him. They’re amazing. They fight as if they’re one person. Their lochabers weaving in and around each other in an intricate pattern that any weaver would be proud to create. With every pass of their blades, blood flies from an enemy.
If only it was enough.
The Invaders surge forward, those behind the front line shoving in. The front line falls to the whirling blades of our guys, but the surge pushes them back, into each other. Now their blades don’t fly as fast. They’re tangling with each other.
The surge doesn’t stop. Fresh Invaders climb over the bodies of their fallen, rabid, insane in their willingness to throw themselves at certain death. Except it’s no longer so certain.
One of the Zmaj falls. I can’t tell who it is, but the other men close the gap left, moving so it looks like he’s inside the protection of their box.
The Invaders press in and two more Zmaj fall, including one next to Khabri. My heart is in my throat. My head pounds in time with its beating. Waves of nausea pass over leaving cool sweat in their wake.
I want to look away but I can’t. We’re the sole witnesses to their sacrifice.
“We have to go, now,” Rosalind orders, belly crawling backwards from the edge of the dune.
“No,” I say, shaking my head.
“I won’t have those men die in vain, it’s on us,” Rosalind hisses. “Now move it.”
Reluctant I crawl backwards. My last sight before the dune cuts off sight is another surge by the Invaders. I’m half-way down the hill when it happens.
AHOOOHA – AHOOOHGHA – AHOOO
Everyone stops and the sound comes again. Scrambling at the sand which suddenly decides to turn loose and slippery I fight to reach the top of the dune again.
As soon as I reach the crest, I see it.
Past our fighting men, beyond the hordes of Invaders, cresting another dune stands a huge man. There is a massive thing that looks like it’s made from a bivo horn in his hands. He raises it once more to his lips and the resounding sound echoes across the sands to us.
“LADON!” I exclaim, jumping to my feet like an idiot.
Hope swells my chest and races along my limbs. I realize I’m being stupid too so I drop to my stomach but stay where I can see. The Invaders halt their assault looking up at the lone man blowing a horn.