Page 83 of Power's Fall

“We’re in cover now,” Vadisk said. “But you’ll have to turn it off when we’re out in the open.”

The clip-on flashlight was directional, a narrow beam that created a circle of light on the ground right in front of her.

“This is perfect,” she breathed in relief. “You lead, I’ll follow and make sure I don’t trip.”

“Final girl energy,” Montana said approvingly.

Dahlia smiled. “Nerd.”

“Explain later. Let’s go.” Vadisk’s footsteps crunched as he started walking. Dahlia tucked her fingers around Montana’s belt, focusing on the ground and watching where she stepped as he started forward.

They walked for what felt like hours, but the sky stayed dark, so it couldn’t have been that long, or the sky would have started to lighten with dawn. The smell of salt increased. They were closer to the shore. Then they pulled to a stop.

“Sorry, Dee.” Montana clicked off the flashlight, using the same shortened version of her first name that he’d also given Vadisk, who grinned every time Montana called him V. If she wasn’t completely blind and scared out of her mind, she might enjoy the new moniker more. “We’re about to be in the open.”

Vadisk moved closer, and it was reassuring that she knew that without being able to see him. “Here.”

He slid his backpack onto her back. She took it, though she wasn’t sure why he was giving it to her.

“Help her up,” Vadisk said, clearly speaking to Montana.

“Help me up on what?”

Montana’s hands gripped her hips. “Vadisk is giving you a ride.” A second later, she was lifted and pressed to Vadisk’s back. She wrapped her arms over his shoulders as he grabbed her knees, hiking her legs up alongside his hips.

For a moment, she gave in and closed her eyes, resting her cheek on his hair. “You can’t carry me, it will?—”

“Yes, I can. Quiet.”

Dahlia’s lips twitched. They were back to a classic. Terse, one-word-answers Vadisk.

She kept her eyes closed and focused on holding on tight, trying to make sure he wasn’t having to hold up her entire body weight with his hands hooked under her knees. They were still going downhill, and she let out a few whimpers when Vadisk took a particularly big step. Each time, he squeezed her legs in reassurance.

His movements changed, the ground evening out. “We’re on the beach,” he whispered. “I’m going to put you down, but I can pick you back up.”

“Okay.”

Dahlia slid off Vadisk’s back. He guided her hand to the waistband of his pants rather than giving her back to Montana.

They remained silent, though the sound of the waves probably would have hidden any conversation as they walked on the hard-packed wet sand, which made it much easier for Dahlia to put one foot in front of the other and follow.

“That’s a good-looking boat,” Montana whispered after ten minutes of walking, during which Dahlia was fairly certain they’d gone around some kind of curve in the shoreline, appreciation clear in his tone.

“They said it’s easy to drive,” Vadisk replied.

“If it floats, I can pilot it.”

“Okay, then it’s your boat.”

“My boat,” Montana said in satisfaction.

Dahlia smiled.

They kept going for a few more minutes before Vadisk stopped, turning to pull her up against his side. Rather than bend to put his lips by her ear, Vadisk lifted her so she was standing on a flat rock, their heads almost even.

“Montana may be sexually attracted to the boat,” he breathed in her ear.

Dahlia sputtered out a helpless laugh. “What?”