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“We need to go,” he said against her ear. “Trust me. If you can’t believe that I wouldn’t let you die, at least believe that I wouldn’t let me die.”
He had a point. She nodded, and he released her mouth.
“No noise,” he hissed.
She nodded again, and he gently cupped her cheek.
“I promise you, I will keep you safe.”
Her face tingled under his touch, and for one endless second, the world faded to the man in front of her. He wasn’t like anyone she’d ever known, and much to her own shock, she wanted to trust him.
“Desperation,” she whispered her reasoning aloud.
His lips twitched. “Probably.” He stepped away from her, grabbed her hand, and turned toward the canyon depths. “Come on.” He tugged her forward, down the narrow, rocky path that led to the bottom of the ravine.
And to the scorpions.
Voices echoed through the night. Floodlights came on above them, casting sharp shadows on the canyon walls. They hurried downward as the sheer rock face rose up either side of them. Water trickled, and she thought there might be a stream at the bottom. Could scorpions swim? Were they going to walk through the water to safety?
She clutched Striker’s hand when he dragged her past an official warning sign. Even if there hadn’t been a huge skull-and-crossbones on it, or the word Danger hadn’t been written in large red letters, the photos would have sent her running. Two boards detailed what a scorpion sting would do to a person, showing photos of corpses that had been stung multiple times. It was horrific.
But instead of running at the sight, she felt a strange calm sweep through her and recognized it instantly. She’d experienced the same sensation in the past, when things were out of her control. It was acceptance. Either she would die in the canyon, or she wouldn’t. There wasn’t a whole lot she could do about it. One thing was for sure—she wasn’t going to climb out of the canyon and take her chances with Enforcement. If she was going to die, she’d do it on her own terms. And she’d do it attempting to be free.
The path narrowed and twisted down to the bottom. Friday could barely make out shapes around her as the lights from the wall above them dimmed. Soon, the light wouldn’t be able to reach them, and she would be left in the dark—with the scorpions. Her breathing became shallower with every step she took, and she clung to Striker’s hand as though it were a lifeline. Their descent defied logic. There was no evidence, in over a hundred years, that anyone had survived this trip. And yet, here she was, desperate and terrified, getting deeper with each passing step.
It didn’t take long to reach the bottom. The canyon wasn’t as deep as she’d thought. But what it lacked in grandeur, it made up for in atmosphere. There was an eerie stillness that made her skin crawl with the awareness that something was waiting—watching and thinking in the dark nooks and crannies.
Scorpions.
Her hands started to tremble as the darkness engulfed them and her other senses became acute. She heard the first scurry of tiny feet as they made their way along the water’s edge toward the gap in the border wall.
“Shouldn’t we walk in the stream?” she whispered. Although, common sense told her that the arachnids already knew her exact location and she would give nothing further away by talking.
“The scorpions in this canyon don’t mind the water.” Striker didn’t whisper. Nor did his voice tremble with fear.
In this canyon. Like they weren’t normal scorpions at all.
“Do you have protective suits stashed down here?”
“There isn’t a suit on the planet that would keep out thousands of determined scorpions.”
More scurrying to her left made her head snap around. She pressed closer to Striker. Without breaking his stride, he wrapped an arm around her waist and tugged her to him. The darkness became thicker. Friday stumbled on the uneven ground.
“I can’t see,” she whispered, aware her voice was shaking.
“I can.”
“You keep saying that. It doesn’t help.”
The scurrying sounds came from every direction now. Her breathing grew shallow, making her a little light-headed. She felt Striker squeeze her waist. She curled a fist into his belt and held on tight.
Her mind whirled, throwing facts at her. Reminding her of everything she knew about scorpion stings. Their venom was a neurotoxin, which attacked the nervous system. She’d feel pain when they first struck, but it wouldn’t be agonizing. The agony would come later. First there would be vomiting, muscle cramps, paralysis, and convulsions until her lungs and heart stopped working. An excruciatingly painful death, and that was assuming she only received one sting. Each additional injection of the toxin would speed up the process. Maybe it would be better to be attacked by several scorpions, rather than just one—less time suffering. Images of herself lying on the ground, covered in scorpions, flashed in her mind, and she decided one would be enough. She couldn’t even think about her body becoming food after she died…
“You’re gonna be fine. Just focus on breathing normally.” Striker’s words cut through her impending hysteria. “Once we’re around this bend, I’ll turn on the flashlight, and you’ll be able to see where you’re going. That will help.”
She couldn’t see the bend he was talking about, or even a path in front of them—it was that dark. She shook hard now, each step on the uneven path becoming perilous. It was difficult to concentrate on anything other than the sound of scurrying—a hurricane of tiny feet, building in volume and speed, all coming straight for them.
They swerved to the right, and the flashlight came on. She instantly scrunched her eyes closed, terrified of what she would see if she didn’t.
