Ash Princess (The Deviant Future #6) - Eve Langlais Page 0,11

villages—that he had no idea what he should look for. Sure, Roark and the others had given him some ideas; look for a volcano, a crevice spewing gas, and Titan’s joked, Maybe it’s a portal to Hell. The ancient humans had believed in a place called Heaven for those who lived a righteous life and Hell for those who’d sinned.

There was definitely no portal to Hell, which was supposed to be full of demons and brimstone and fire. This place was more like nothingness, the absence of all.

He’d seen no sign of life. Nothing overtly spewing smoke. No glowing at night. It meant no true direction for him to follow, so he kept going along a road that became increasingly hard to discern, the ash drifting deeper than before.

That night, he didn’t go for a walk. He slept with the helmet tucked by his side and his gloves on. Surrounded by the ghostly fog, more than ever he would have sworn he heard it whispering when he turned the engine off.

Turn back.

Come outside. You don’t need that helmet.

Death.

Run.

Stay.

Those imaginary voices fucked with his sleep, meaning the following day, he nodded at the wheel, not paying attention like he should have. He never saw the edge of the precipice.

As Burton’s front end began to dip, the motion jolted him enough that he slammed the machine into reverse. With a lurch, it began to creep back, which, in turn, caused more of the cliff’s edge to crumble. He turned off the engine and held his breath.

The tank stopped moving. He couldn’t see down into the crevice and stood to get a better view. Bad idea. It appeared the ass of the tank wasn’t as heavy as the front. It seesawed.

“Fuck me!” Cam dove out of the driver’s seat to the cubicle for outside, which was of course when everything just had to go to shit.

He bobbled the helmet, recovered, and shoved the protective headgear on his head. He twisted until he heard the hiss as it sealed to the neck of his suit. His gloves were tucked into his belt, but there was no time. He grabbed a big gun instead before he shoved himself into the tiny chamber. He didn’t bother to seal the inner door before he opened the outside one.

He had to move fast. There was no time. Burton was rocking on the edge.

The ramp had barely hit the ground when he threw himself out of the tank. He hit the ground hard, not hard enough to crack the face shield on his helmet, but his hands were definitely abraded as they plunged through the ash to the hard ground underneath.

Not good. But at least he’d held on to the gun. He dropped it now and rolled to his back as he fumbled at his belt for the gloves, trying to not think of the particles coating his skin. He slid them on and tried to pretend he didn’t hear his sister saying, “Dumbass.”

He should have been wearing them, but after days of nothing, he’d gotten complacent. And it cost him. His hands burned like they were on fire. Wouldn’t be the first time he’d suffered. He knew how to handle the pain.

Pushing to his feet, he kicked the ash to locate the gun he’d dropped, only to find himself distracted at an ominous cracking sound. He whirled to stare at where Burton should have been parked, only it wasn’t.

The tank was gone. He’d not even heard it crash, making him wonder just how deep the crevice went. He knew many deep rifts crisscrossed the continent. They had a few in Emerald, too. Bad places were usually home to things that liked to eat people. Alive. While screaming.

Not the way he wanted to die, and death seemed certain with Burton gone. All his rations. His weapons. His means of transport.

Gone.

Rising to his feet, he allowed himself a moment of pity. Casey was right. How dumb of him to come here thinking he could find a way to help. He should have stayed where he was safe. Where his skin didn’t burn.

Fuck that hurt.

He stared at his hands. Thought about pulling off the gloves. Decided it was better if he didn’t see the skin blistering or sloughing off. The doctors used to make him look when he was a kid. Showed him things no kid should ever see. The smell of burned flesh and the sight of bone sticking through skin stuck with a boy. Cam learned young just how