Page 151 of Immune

That’s also pretty irritating.

The whole of them are irritating.

Dakota most of all.

She’s a few steps ahead, to my left, but not because I put her there. It’s because that’s where she put herself. Close enough to hear, but far enough to bolt if she needs to. And I know better than to tell her to close the gap.

I know. But it doesn’t stop the words from relentlessly pressing against my teeth with the urge to break free. Words like stay tight, don’t drift, watch the right door, let me clear it first.

All useful, all efficient, and all likely to make her dig her stubborn heels in just to prove that she can.

I can still feel that fast Rot’s weight barrel into me. Can still smell its breath, rot and old blood just a few inches away from my face. Can still feel the bite of claws across my shoulderand the shelf slamming harshly into my back. Can still see Dakota half a second too slow.

Half a second.

That’s all.

A small amount of time until it’s someone's throat. Until it’s someone’s life on the line.

I’ve made choices faster than that my entire life. Since the age of sixteen, when the military got its hands on me and turned instinct into procedure. Threat appears? Identify it. Route blocks? Reroute. Civilian in path? Remove. Asset compromised? Protect it.

Clean lines and simple logic.

Except Dakota isn’t an asset, and she sure as hell ain’t a civilian. And when I moved, it wasn’t because she was a part of the mission. The truth sits weird right under my ribs, and I don’t have room for it.

So I keep walking.

Dakota’s voice suddenly cuts through the passage. “You’re thinking loud enough that I can hear you from here.”

Ewan makes a pleased little sound behind us. “Yeah, that’s something he does a lot.”

“Eyes rear,” I say.

“Still here, mate,” he replies. “Stunning view, really. Damp concrete, everyone’s emotional problems, Kaito pretending he’s not bleeding his life away. Proper sightseeing.”

Kaito doesn’t bother to look back, muttering, “I’m not bleeding.”

Dakota snorts and it’s then that Kaito turns his head slightly toward her. It’s not enough to trip over anything that might be in his way, and it’s not enough to stop watching the route. It’s just… enough.

She looks away first, but I clock it. Don’t really know what to do with it, so I shove it into a file with everything else I can’t deal with right now.

Dakota slows at the next junction where we come to three routes. The left slopes down into darkness, water pooled over the floor. Straight runs under a line of flickering emergency lamps toward a locked vehicle gate. And right narrows into a hallway that’s been marked as OPERATIONS ACCESS.

I open my mouth and start to say, “We go right.”

Only, I stop myself, and Dakota’s head shifts like she heard the breath I took before I was about to give the order. She heard the words forming before I was about to let them loose, so I clamp down on the words and scan again.

The right hallway is narrower, but it’s dry. Less room to maneuver if Rots come through. The straight route has a gate, maybe locked, maybe forced. And left is all water and shitty footing, which would be bad for the pilot and worse for Kaito. Worse again for Dakota’s knee, even though she would prefer to eat glass than admit it.

“Right is dry,” I say instead. “Narrow. Good for limiting numbers but bad if we need to turn fast. Straight might have a vehicle exit if the gate opens. Left is flooded.”

Dakota looks at me with no short amount of suspicion. Like I’ve just placed a chocolate bar under a box with a stick tied to a string.

“What?” I ask.

“Nothing,” she answers, narrow eyes still on me.

“Looks like something,” I say.