like a grenade clutched against her chest. So much possibility—but she couldn’t drop it on Nina like this, not when she was still struggling to get through the day. This was some suicidal, final-gestures shit. Whatever precarious mental balance Nina was trying to find would be shot to hell if she thought Knox was over there giving away his earthly belongings in preparation for meeting his maker.
Maya could quietly investigate the contents of the tablet. There’d be plenty of time to consider what to do once Knox and the Silver Devils were a distant memory. Maya had her own information network, a sprawling, invisible web of people scattered across Atlanta, each one a survivor of the TechCorps’ violent purge of their internal revolution. Maya knew the names, vital stats, and personal histories of every one. And when she asked for help, they dropped everything to give it.
After all, the TechCorps had tortured Maya’s first and only lover to a slow and painful death right in front of her, and she hadn’t broken. She hadn’t betrayed their names.
They all owed her.
* * *
TECHCORPS PROPRIETARY DATA, L1 SECURITY CLEARANCE
Send Knox to deal with the situation at the Villa Rica research facility. Make it clear the entire facility—including staff—must be decommissioned.
If he deviates from his orders in the slightest, I’ll be stepping in to resolve this situation.
Internal Memo, July 2085
* * *
THIRTY
The comforting thing about planning for disaster was the numbing routine of it.
Knox knew the rhythm of a crisis. He knew how to set aside emotion and make a dispassionate assessment of the situation. Each day was carved into hours. Each hour assigned a list of action items. Each item could be broken down into rote tasks.
Rafe and Gray had been busy assembling the supplies they’d need to go off the grid. Conall was locked in his room, spending every waking moment struggling to buy them a few more days. Luna was explaining the hard truth to her aunt.
Knox was doing inventory.
It was mindless, monotonous work, the kind he should have been able to lose himself in. He knew what they’d need to settle somewhere. Meds. Tech. High-value barter items. Biohacked seeds, cultivation guides. Tools.
He was going to be a truly shitty farmer.
He kicked the thought away and forced himself to focus. To feel nothing. To think nothing. To want nothing.
Check the crates.
Count the items.
Cross it off his list.
Stack the box against the wall.
The silence inside his head was torture.
He hadn’t heard from Nina. Not that he’d really expected to—the fact that she’d sent Dani and Maya to help them without showing up herself was an eloquent statement of her feelings. But part of him had hoped that knowing about the RLOC server might spark … something. Excitement. Happiness. Maybe even forgiveness.
He’d known better. He’d made his devil’s bargain the day he’d agreed to kidnap her. All those brazen promises in the dark of the night, his claims that he’d sacrifice anything to see his men safe …
Someone with a sense of humor had taken him up on them.
Knox started to hoist a box of seeds, but dropped them and went for his sidearm when a harsh buzz tore through the warehouse.
Conall’s perimeter warning.
The wail cut off as quickly as it had started, and Conall’s voice came over comms. “I checked the cameras. It’s safe to open the door.”
Too quick. Too casual. There was only one reason Conall wouldn’t just tell him who was on the other side. Knox’s heart kicked, and all that hope he thought he’d snuffed out roared up in one brutal attempt to flood through him.
He struggled against it as he opened the door.
Nina stood on the other side. She was dressed casually—jeans and a plain black tank top, her hair pulled back into a ponytail—and cradled a tablet in one arm. “Good afternoon, Captain.”
“Nina.” Her name came out hoarse, and he cleared his throat. “Is everything all right?”
“Everything’s fine.” She arched one eyebrow and gestured inside. “May I?”
She didn’t seem angry, or particularly eager. She didn’t seem anything except relaxed and coolly proficient. Uncertain but unwilling to close the door on her, Knox stepped back and waved her in.
She looked around as she walked in, surveying the main room of the warehouse with a decisive nod. “Your bays are clear. Good. Dani’s on her way with a truck, so you’ll need to open one of the doors.”
“A truck—” Knox started, but jerked when one of the far bay doors groaned softly and began creaking upward.