Atlas looked exhausted and Romy wanted to tell Thrym to stop. But her friend was right.

Maybe they’d fall for the trail that Atlas had created, leading to a river close by. Maybe they would follow the river, thinking the knot had jumped in. Maybe.

“This bunker has five different exits. Regardless of whether they know where we are or not, they won’t be able to get in. Not even by dropping a bomb directly on top of us,” he replied.

Romy blinked the ringing away. It was just starting to come back. “So . . . we’re trapped.”

He swung his tired eyes to her. “They might find the one entrance, but there are four others that we can leave through. We’re not trapped.”

“But we’re not safe.” Thrym folded his arms. “You promised us safety.”

Atlas stood toe-to-toe with him, the taller of the two. “You would currently be dead without me. Compared to that, you are safe.”

Thrym snorted, refusing to budge.

Atlas didn’t break the stare. “Houston,” he barked.

“What can I do ya for, boss?”

Phobos snorted.

“I want Rosemary’s memory card out, now.”

“She doesn’t like being called Rosemary,” Thrym ground out.

Houston pushed his glasses upwards. “Well . . . ideally, I’d like to study—”

“Now!” Atlas shouted, breaking away from Thrym.

Atlas grabbed Romy’s arm and pulled her with him. She tore her arm away and jogged to keep up.

They’d descended for well over a hundred metres before arriving at the bottom where a horizontal tunnel greeted them. They’d walked for an hour, doing their best to drag Deimos along, before arriving in this cavern—the bunker, a multi-roomed facility carved from the stone.

There were rooms, beds, medical equipment, printers—everything they’d need to survive.

They entered into a room filled with screens and medi-tech. There were five screens, each showing a different picture of the bush. Cameras, she realised. Watching the entrances.

Atlas pushed her gently down onto the hospital bed beside Deimos’s bed.

“How long did this place take to make?” she asked.

“Ten years, five months, and twenty-seven days,” he answered without emotion.

Houston instructed her to lie down, and busied himself connecting her to what felt like a hundred different machines.

“We followed you here. We’ve held up our end of the bargain. Now talk,” she ordered. Her hands fisted in the sheets on the bed as she stared at Atlas.

The three conscious members of the knot had filtered into the room behind Romy. Elara had large rings around her eyes, and immediately collapsed into a chair. Phobos and Thrym both looked wired. Phobos paced in front of the door, while Thrym stood to attention, hands gripped too tightly behind his back.

Houston broke away from Romy to stab something into Deimos.

Everyone jumped as Deimos sat bolt upright, drawing in a huge breath.

“Gets me every time,” Houston chuckled.