The Black Tide (Outcast 3)

He took a deep breath and then nodded grimly. I gripped his ankle and carefully realigned his leg, trying to ensure there was no further damage to either the blood vessels or nerves in his leg.

He made no sound, but I nevertheless felt his pain. It was a tidal wave that crashed across my senses, and was so damn fierce I couldn’t help but shudder under its impact.

His breath hissed in and out, and entire body quivered. How he was even conscious I had no idea.

“Right,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Step back.”

I shuffled back, keeping my center of balance low to counter the conveyor’s incline. As his body began to shift from human to panther form, I glanced past him, suddenly wondering where Penny’s body was. After a few seconds, I spotted her—she’d obviously been flung forward when Jonas hit the belt—on top of the pile of debris behind us, her body constantly under attack from the various bits of rock being bounced into the air. I scrambled over and dragged her back down. It was enough that she was dead; she didn’t deserve to be pulverized as well.

Jonas was in the process of switching back to human form, his bones knitting and leg healing even as I watched. “Fuck,” he said when he was able, “that hurt.”

I sat down in front of him and gently pulled the torn edges of his pants apart. All that remained was a thick red scar, and even that was now beginning to fade. But I was well aware the toll that sort of healing took on a body.

I touched his shoulder lightly and said, “Rest. I’ll wake you when we near the end of this thing.”

That he didn’t even bother to argue spoke not only of his weakness but also the wound’s severity. I’d witnessed shifters heal bullet wounds, gut shots, and broken bones during the wars, and knew that the more severe the wound, the longer it took to regain physical strength. Jonas could be out of action for anything up to twenty-four hours.

I turned around to keep an eye on the rubble bouncing all around us, and, with Cat’s help, batted away the various bits that threatened to hit us. The belt rolled endlessly on into the gloom, and time was something that slipped by without acknowledgment. There was no glimmer of sunlight up ahead, nothing to indicate we were anywhere near approaching the end of this thing.

But the air was growing sharper—cleaner—and a breeze was now running gentle fingers through my sweat-dried hair. Whether I could see it or not, we were getting close to the quarry outlet.

“Cat, can you race ahead and see how far away we are?” As she obeyed, I added, Bear, what’s happening out there?

Five vehicles went past the quarry and have landed on the hill above us. There are twenty soldiers, all armed.

Is Dream there?

There are nine women amongst their number, but they do not feel like Winter or even Sal did.

Meaning her presence was unlikely. I guess that was no surprise—why would she take such a risk when it was easier to send her people...? I frowned and said, What sort of uniforms are they wearing? Is it along the lines of what the mercenaries in Chaos wear, or more military in design?

He paused. There’s one military, the others are mercenary. The military man seems to be in charge.

Instinct stirred, and while I wasn’t sure why, I also wasn’t about to ignore it. Are you able to get a close look at him?

Bear hesitated and then said, He’s a thick-set man, brown hair and eyes, and a scar under his left eye.

Which was an exact description of the man who’d been guarding Karlinda at Charles’s confirmation ceremony—the one who’d stirred my instincts for unknown reasons.

He was obviously one of Dream’s people and surely had to know her identity in Central, be it Hedda or someone else. And that meant he was someone we needed to talk to.

Cat returned. About three hundred meters ahead, the conveyer belt flattens out. A half a kilometer after that, it drops down into a rubble pile.

Thanks. Bear, are any of those men keeping an eye on the conveyor’s dump point?

No, they’ve moved down the hill. He paused. There’s an entrance there.

One big enough to allow truck entry, I’m guessing?

Yes.

Let me know if any of them do head back to the quarry.

I twisted around and touched Jonas on the shoulder. He woke and quickly glanced around. “Everything okay?”

I half smiled. “I should be asking you that, given you’re the one who shattered his leg, not me.”

He grunted and sat up. “It’s healed, and I’m okay. What’s the sitrep?”