Making him seem other than human.
She shook her arms free—aware that she’d only managed to shake off his hold because he’d allowed it.
“Stay at my back. When we aren’t crawling, hold my belt. Follow close, right behind me, in my footsteps.”
“I will.”
His bulk seemed to shrink back to normal, which was still huge. He studied her for a moment, as though trying to ascertain whether he could trust her word or not. He nodded when he came to his conclusion. “Let’s go.”
Friday’s limbs shook, completely thrown by their interaction. She still had questions. Her brain wouldn’t stop just because he’d ordered it. There were too many anomalies. If she had the time, if this were a different situation, she would have fought for answers. But there wasn’t time. And this wasn’t the right situation. Which meant she had to bury her concerns and focus on doing exactly what he’d told her to do, because her life was, literally, in his hands.
Striker switched the lantern off and placed it in the box.
“Turn on your suit lights.” His voice was cold, distant. The musical sensuality from earlier was gone.
With a tug at the chord on the front of her suit, the small directional lights sealed into it came on.
“Okay.” He nodded his approval once he’d checked her lights. “We’re heading that direction.” He pointed along the endless red barrier. “Stay on my left. I want to be between you and the cloud. I’ll let you know once we hit the path we need to take.”
Friday nodded, then realized that with the bulk of the suit he probably wouldn’t be able to see the gesture. “Stay on your left,” she repeated instead.
“Good.” He turned in the direction he’d indicated and strode forward, checking to make sure she was at his side, where he’d told her to be. The black night swallowed them as they made their way along the narrow strip of barren land between the high border wall and the red mist. She looked up at the wall, noting the dim glow of the lights along the top of it.
“They don’t monitor this side of the wall?” she asked before she could stop herself. “I know you said to stop questioning everything. But I can’t help it. It’s how my brain works. I promise you, I am completely focused on what we’re about to do and will follow your instructions to the letter. I just can’t help that there are other things in my head at the same time.”
His long-suffering sigh came through the commlink. “Let’s keep the questions to a minimum. You need to concentrate on what we’re doing. There’s no space to screw up.”
“I will. I promise.”
“You drive me crazy, chère. I worry that you’ll distract yourself to the point of getting killed.”
“I know.” There wasn’t much else she could say.
He let out another little sigh, resigned, she supposed, to having to deal with her inquisitive nature. “There’s no need for them to monitor this side of the wall. Nothing lives over here.”
She couldn’t help the pleased smile that escaped when he answered her question, although she wasn’t sure he was right. She looked at the thick red cloud and shuddered. It was only a feeling, but she could swear that the cloud was aware of their presence. Which meant something definitely lived on this side of the wall.
“Here.” Striker stopped suddenly. He pointed to the ground where there was a small tunnel-like opening in the red mist. “We’re going through one of the narrower parts of the mist, around ten miles wide. It’s gonna feel like fifty by the time we’re on the other side. We crawl for about half an hour and then we get more room to move around. Okay?”
“Okay.” She fought to keep her questions to herself, but it actually physically hurt to do so, and she was pretty sure keeping them bottled up inside of her would make it harder to concentrate on doing what she was told. “I have a couple more questions.”
“Are they relevant to what we’re doing? Because, remember, no wandering off in your head. It’s too dangerous.”
She nodded, forgetting he couldn’t see. “Yes, they’re relevant. The tunnels and paths, the parts of the Red Zone where the mist has receded, do they shift? Are we likely to climb into a tunnel that suddenly disappears in front of us, or swallows us whole?”
“It happens. We monitor the paths and know instantly if anything changes. But the mist is slow-moving. It wouldn’t shift fast enough to trap us inside.”
“Good, that’s good.” The air in her suit had become oppressive. The building heat made sweat run down her back and gather under her breasts. “Is the air where the red mist has receded contaminated or is it okay to breathe?”
“The air is good. You could take off your helmet and breathe normally. The only reason you’re wearing it is to offer some protection in case you brush up against the mist.”
“To buy time for you to counteract it before it’s absorbed?”
“That’s right.”
She desperately wanted to ask how he was going to do that exactly, but she figured that was one of those discussions he would deem as not immediately relevant.
“Let’s go.” He took a step toward the red.