Gunfire erupts nearby again.
Reality slams back into place.
Clay vaults over the barrier beside us with Lucas right behind him.
“We’ve got movement from the east tower and trucks incoming south side,” Clay says. His eyes flick toward the blood on Olivia’s hands. “She walking?”
“No,” I answer immediately.
“Yes,” Olivia says at the same time.
Lucas snorts once. “Glad we cleared that up.”
Miles slides into cover beside us a second later. “Ninety seconds before this whole side gets flooded.”
His eyes drop to Olivia’s wound.
Expression darkening instantly.
“She’s crashing.”
I already know.
Now that the adrenaline’s fading, I can see it clearly.
The lag in her reactions.
The way her shoulders keep curling inward.
The effort it takes for her to focus on me.
Damn it.
Olivia catches me seeing it.
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Look at me like I’m dying.”
My jaw locks instantly.
“You’re not dying.”
“Then stop looking like you’re planning mass murder.”
“Can’t promise that.”
Miles huffs out a rough laugh.
Clay checks his rifle. “Hate to interrupt this romantic battlefield moment, but we need a decision.”
He’s right.
Pull out now with Olivia.
Or split and hit the east wing.
