Page 124 of Silver Elite

Then, with a sharp tug, my parachute deploys, snapping open with a deafening crack that echoes through the night. As I slowly drift downward, the desert unfurls beneath me like a patchwork quilt. Silence envelops me, broken only by the occasional whisper of wind and the steady thrum of my own heartbeat.

With each passing second, the ground draws nearer. I scan the terrain below, searching for the designated landing zone. There’s no margin for error.

Finally, my boots make contact with the soft sand, sending a plume of dust spiraling into the air. I stumble upon landing, fighting to regain my balance.

“I got you, cowgirl,” I hear, and then Kaine’s strong hand is there, steadying me.

“Thanks.”

His gaze fixates on my face, a grin on his lips.

“What?” I say.

“You should see your face right now. Orgasmic.”

“That was incredible,” I declare, and he slings an arm around me as we go to join the others.

—

We’re spending the night in the desert. The Command has a base out here, and as the adrenaline high from our nighttime parachuting begins to ebb, we hike to camp. Tents dot the sandy expanse, ocher-colored fabric fluttering gently in the night breeze. In the center of camp is an unlit firepit.

Ford, Hadley, and Cross are waiting for us when we walk up. My heart flips at the sight of our captain. Dressed in black, rifle slung over one shoulder, a day’s worth of beard growth covering his jaw. I prefer him clean-shaven, but I can’t deny I’m enjoying the feral look.

As it turns out, we’re not done for the night. Our superiors makeus run an obstacle course that leaves us grimy. We crawl like snakes through the sand and race over the jagged contours of landscape until we’re exhausted. And then, when a recruit named Franks gripes about how we’re never going to put this to use in real life, Cross smiles at him and makes us run it again. Fuck you, Franks.

Later, a crackling bonfire casts dancing shadows on the faces of my fellows as we gather around it, eating and drinking under the stars. For one brief moment, the world falls away, and I feel a glimmer of peace beneath the endless sky.

Until Lyddie says, “I miss Betima,” and the spell is broken, replaced by a cruel dose of reality.

“You don’t believe him, then?” Lash cocks his head across the fire to where Roe sits with Anson and Kess. “That she was Aberrant?”

Lyddie hesitates. “I don’t know. He claims he saw her arms turn silver when Glin died, but I was standing right there. I didn’t see anything. Wren, did you?”

I shake my head.

“Kaine?”

“I was too busy tending to the spike in Cotter’s chest to pay attention to anyone else, Lyds.”

I wince at the reminder. My gaze travels in Roe’s direction, hardening to stone when he smiles at me. If you could call it a smile. His teeth are bared, but without humor. I haven’t spoken a word to him since he put a bullet in Betima’s head. Since I heard the General telling Cross that Roe did the world a great service.

Speaking of the General, his voice suddenly booms in the night.

I startle, thinking he’s somehow parachuted his way into camp, until I realize the voice is coming from someone’s source. They’re projecting General Redden’s latest broadcast to the wards.

“…the only way to ensure the destructive philosophy we call Severnism is rooted out,” Redden is saying. I detest that stern, chilling cadence with which he speaks. “Ideas are like weeds. They emerge from the smallest cracks and thrive in neglect. And if they’re not controlled, they spread. They grow. They invade. It’s our role as loyal citizens of the Continent to pull out these weeds before they take hold. The Aberrant will not be allowed to poison our minds and seize our society—”

“I’m going to take that shower now,” I say, getting to my feet.

Everyone else already took advantage of the outdoor showers to scrub the sand and dirt off, but I was waiting for the area to empty. With both Black and Red cells at camp tonight, the fewer eyes on my burns, the better.

The showers are on the outskirts of camp but in eyeshot of the fire. Just a row of simple stalls with wooden partitions between them, offering little privacy. I glance over to find them deserted, cementing my decision to go.

I reach the stalls at the exact moment Cross emerges from the other direction. He’d disappeared after the obstacle course, so I assumed he wasn’t staying at camp with us. But here he is.

With a cursory look to acknowledge my presence, Cross walks past me toward one of the stalls.

Then he starts to strip.

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