“I thought we were doing more surveillance,” Nova says.
Briar shrugs. “Why? We know enough.”
Unexpectedly, Pax is the voice of reason. “Do we know how many men she’s got there? Where everyone’s sleeping? What the security setup is? When they change shifts?”
“No,” Briar admits. “But you guys, I can’t just sit here.”
A wrinkle forms between Amira’s brows. “We can’t help anyone if we don’t know what we’re going into, though.”
“They’re torturing our friends.” Briar’s plea is impassioned. “Ingrid said they’re close to breaking Chance.”
“Oh, hell no,” Amira says. “I’m with you.”
Nova’s wearing the stony expression I know well. She’s fucking pissed.
“Let’s game-plan and go,” she says. “I’m not sitting on my ass while they torture our people.”
“Hey.” Everyone turns to Olin, who’s standing off to the side. “Don’t put me in time-out this time. I want to help.”
“Me too,” Ellison says. “We can’t do what Briar and Marcus and Pax can do, but we’re not useless.”
Ingrid’s command to 6A5—never apologize—still rings in my ears.
“You’re not useless,” I say. “I’m sorry I made you both feel that way.”
I don’t want my friends to think I don’t believe they’re good enough to stand beside me. We all have different strengths, but what gives us an edge over Ingrid is that we’ll fight for each other. Her men are just following orders and pulling paychecks for it.
“I think we should pack up and all relocate closer to camp,” Briar says. “We can continue with surveillance for now, but if something happens and we need to go in quickly, we’ll be able to.”
“I agree,” I say.
“Yeah, me too,” Pax agrees.
We pack up our few supplies; everyone quiet. I can’t help sneaking a peek at Amira’s bag. She keeps it close all the time.
I hate leaving Briar and Pax to do all the heavy lifting. They’re both powerful, but not invincible. And my stubborn male pride makes me want to be the one beside Briar when the time comes, not standing back watching him.
“Ready?” Briar asks me.
“Yeah.”
Together, we leave the cave and head toward our camp.
We’re not doing surveillance from a tree that may have snakes that kill more creatively than a horror movie. It’s dark, so Briar and I are behind some bushes, taking our turn listening in on camp.
The sun is setting, but camp is still alive with activity. Ingrid has everyone wearing green New America uniforms—even the kids.
This is when our camp was winding down for the day. After sunset, we had bonfires and people congregated in the Hub. There was popcorn. Music. Dancing. Kids running around playing games.
There’s none of that here tonight. Everyone is training or working. We’re only getting bits and pieces of conversations, but from what we’ve heard already, it’s good we came when we did.
Ingrid plans to ship our people to Island Three in groups for training. She thinks her displays of power and control will impress Whitman.
Over my dead body will she remove even one of my people from this island. Olin’s message to Tyrone started a chain reaction, and once we deal with Ingrid and her men, it will end up being a good thing.
I wouldn’t have Gussie waiting in the grotto if not for that message. Once our camp is secured, Briar and I are taking the sub to the mainland, where I’ll ask the ILF to send more boats to evacuate anyone else who wants to leave.
“... the supply room last night. He said he was inside me, but I couldn’t feel anything. I think maybe he thought he was inside me, but it was like, my inner thighs?”
