His right eye is gone, a charred mass of flesh left in its place. I was so caught up in getting to the boat engines that I completely neglected his protection. I used him as a shield, and this is the price he had to pay. His hide is marked with bullet pocks, and a small chunk of his shell has been blown off where another rocket struck him. My stomach churns at the familiar scent of burnt Reckoner flesh, and for a moment I taste bile. I spit my respirator out and mouth, “I’m sorry.”

My focus shifts to the figures on the Minnow’s deck. Santa Elena hops off the ladder from the navigation tower, and I spot Swift tailing reluctantly behind her, almost as if she wants to hide behind the captain’s shoulders. But she’s alive and well and relatively unshaken, and it makes my heart turn backflips at the thought of what I’m about to try.

Santa Elena lifts a radio to her lips, and a second later, her voice snaps into my ear. “Your orders were to dismantle the pursuit and then surrender. The purpose of those orders was to get the damn SRC off our tail. You do realize that by coming back here, you ensured that all of that hard work was for nothing, right? I’m just so curious about what possessed you to come chasing after us. It sure as hell isn’t Swift, here. You can’t possibly be in that deep.”

I set my jaw and lift my goggles up onto my head. “I upheld my end. Mostly. But in the interest of self-preservation, I didn’t turn myself in.”

“Because?”

“Because there’s no place for me with them anymore,” I growl through my teeth. The truth in my mouth tastes like salt and blood, and I hate it. I hate its necessity. “If you want to go back and see exactly what I did to those boats, be my guest.”

“I’ll take your word for it. But stop dancing around the topic, Cassandra. You came back here for something, didn’t you?” The captain folds her arms, daring me to speak.

My eyes fix on Swift, and I can tell instantly that she wants me to do anything but what I’m about to. She’s got her hands shoved deep in her pockets, her eyes downcast,
and I can’t help but think back to what she said that night

beneath the stars about choices and snares.

But no matter the snares, it’s worth it to have a place that’ll let you call it home, and so I lift my chin and say as loudly and clearly as I can, “I want in.”

I don’t have to see the smirk curling over Santa Elena’s lips. I can all but hear it across the fifty yards that separate us. Behind her, Swift deflates.