Page 88 of Ronan

Instead, I’ve put him in danger.

He turns to Boomerang and commands her to get down, and I’m shocked when she lowers to the ground, silent and out of sight.

The closer the car gets, the tighter my grip becomes, until my knuckles are stark white, and I bite my lip hard enough to taste blood. It’s a compact vehicle, so there can’t be more than four people inside.

I’ve faced worse odds.

Maybe they’ll pass us and move along, but even as the thought crosses my mind, I know it’s in vain. In the wastelands, you don’t come across others without interacting… it’s just a question of how bloody that interaction is going to be. When they get close enough, I count three heads.

Three.

That’s doable.

“I love you, mo’sziv.”

“Oh, don’t do that! It’s bad luck and—”

“Hush,” I hiss, and he narrows his eyes at me, but stops talking. Engine roaring, the car aggressively cuts across to the other lane, pulling up until our windows are side-by-side. With as much boredom as I can muster, I glance at the men inside.

Sure enough, the three of them are clad in full military leathers, though I can’t see the faces of the two on the driver’s side of the car. The passenger’s assessing gaze meets mine before he addresses the driver. He jerks a thumb toward the shoulder before flooring it, surging ahead, then veering to the side of the road.

One hand on my sword, I pull over behind them.

The passenger climbs from the car and approaches. He belongs to a race called the Ramves, who typically serve as stealth fighters. Sly and quick, their smaller frames are built for agility, not power.

“Afternoon, officer,” he calls, holding both his hands in front of him, peach toned palms facing outwards. It’s a universal gesture the military uses to show when no harm is meant.

His rank pales compared to mine, an enlisted soldier with only three rows, and it’s a fact I intend to exploit. “Afternoon,” I respond as he takes a few steps closer, narrowing his eyes as he glances at Cameron. Thankfully, he’s playing the part of the timid prisoner well, staring at his lap with his hands clasped. “You’ll forgive me for being rude, but may I ask what this is about?”

He flashes me a smile that’s intended to disarm but only makes my gut roll with discomfort. “It’s rare we encounter anyone out here, and we’re always on the hunt for rogue rebels.”

“Well, as you can see, I am no rebel.”

“Who’s the human?”

I ignore his question, asking one of my own instead. “Do you scout these lands often?” A large military presence would destroy our hopes for a peaceful home, as I can’t allow Cameron to be so close to danger.

“Oh… um, no. We took down a rebel camp about fifty miles from here. Huge one! There were so many of those fuckers inside, it was like an ant colony when they started swarming out.” He mimes swinging his sword and laughs all the way from his stomach, loud and carefree.

I barely keep my snarl under control.

He continues with a giant smile on his face. “Most of our platoon packed up and left, and the rest of us are scheduled to roll out in the morning. We thought a last-minute hunt would be fun.”

“Good job clearing out the rebel scum,” I say with a somber nod, unable to offer much else without giving away my anger.

“Thanks.” He offers me a smile that’s full of sharp teeth. “You never said who your human is.”

“A prisoner,” I answer, putting a touch of threat in my voice. “That is all you need to know.”

“He’s not tied up.”

I force an obnoxious, hateful laugh as I glance at Cameron, who thankfully still stares submissively at the ground. “Tied up? That would imply this skinny excuse of a human offered some sort of threat, and he is no threat… are you?”

Cameron shakes his head demurely, and I turn back to the Ramves, who eyeballs me for a moment longer. “Why don’t you follow us to camp and get a nice, hot meal?” Henods at the insignia on my leathers that identifies my assigned base. “You’re a long way from home, and I’m sure you’re hungry.”

“While I appreciate the generous offer, I am also tight on fuel and cannot spare even a little to stray from my destination.”

“Your destination… you never said where that was.”

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