Knox nods—just slightly, but it's there. A crack in his armor. A tiny sliver of trust.
They're moving like I'm not just part of the mission anymore. I'm part of thepack.
The team splits into strike-ready formations with military precision.
Team Alpha—Logan, Ryker, and Asa—will track terrain bleed, set signal traps, and monitor drone footage from the ridge.
Team Bravo—Knox, Caleb, and Elias—will reinforce the southern blind spot and prep fallback cover at the Forge perimeter.
My role? Stay mobile. Keep scanning G's signal patterns for a break. Update map markers. Watch for psychological triggers.
"You're our chaos radar," Logan explains, his eyes holding mine. "He moves in patterns. You don't. Use that."
The words catch in my throat because it's not an order—it'strust. Something I haven't felt in so long it almost burns.
I've never felt more out of place. Or moreseen.
These aren't just soldiers following orders. They're survivors of a system that tried to erase them. And they've let me in. Not because they forgive my secrets, but because they understand what it means to carry something heavy—and still choose to fight.
I strap on my pack, fingers brushing the edge of the comm unit. For the first time since this whole nightmare began, I don't feel like I'm running.
I feel like I'mmoving forward.
We're about to split off when Elias's radio crackles to life, the sound sharp in the focused silence.
"You picking that up?" Asa asks, head tilting.
The room stills. We all freeze, listening.
Elias frowns, adjusting the dial. A new frequency cuts in, the sound patchy and warped but clear enough to make out the words:
"Iron Hollow Books. Package delivered."
"What package?" Ryker mutters, brow furrowing.
A pause stretches between heartbeats. Then?—
"Tick tock, Bishop. Let's see how you protect them."
The transmission cuts off abruptly, leaving us in ringing silence.
My blood runs cold as understanding hits. This isn't a threat.
It's amove.
And the town? Our quiet, protected sanctuary?
Just became the new front line.
24
LOGAN
The radio crackles into silence, but the sound still echoes in my ears like a thunderclap. My body moves before my mind can catch up, instinct taking over as I scan the room.
Iron Hollow Books. Dana Fletcher. Package delivered.
Granger's words twist in my gut like a knife. That son of a bitch didn't come for The Forge. He went straight for the heart of what I protect.
