Page 115 of Atlas
His grip tightens for a second.
Then, slowly, he lets go, standing over me with a sneer. I cough, my lungs burning, but I don’t look away.
“You’d better pray he finds you before I ruin you,” he mutters.
I must’ve drifted off at some point, curled up on the thin mattress, aching and cold, my head throbbing with everyshallow breath. My body feels leaden, heavy with fear and fatigue, but something stirs me.
A noise. Distant, sharp. Metal screeching. Voices shouting. Footsteps pounding closer.
I jolt upright, heart hammering, just as the door bursts open.
“Rue!”Kasey cries.
She’s there in the doorway, eyes wide, frantic. I blink up at her, disoriented. Is this real?
“Oh my god.” She crosses the room in two strides, dropping to her knees beside me. “You’re okay. You’re okay.” Her hands are trembling as they cup my face. “Come on, we have to go,now.”
She hauls me up before I can speak, her arm wrapped tight around my waist. I stagger, the pain in my skull making everything spin, but I cling to her and let her pull me towards the corridor.
The hallway is chaos, with broken furniture and smashed glass. There are shouts from outside, boots pounding against concrete.
“Kasey, what’s—” I croak, but she’s already dragging me past a half-open door. I freeze.
Through the crack, I see Atlas. Not the calm, steady man I know.
He’s a storm.
His fists rain down on Damien, over and over, with blood coating his knuckles, his forearms, Damien’s face barely visible beneath the mess. There’s something primal in the way Atlas moves, a rage that looks like it’s been burning for years.
Atlas
I don’t even feel my knuckles anymore.
Just the dull shock of bone hitting bone, the sting of blood, his and mine. Every punch is for Rue. Every blow is for the fear I sawin her eyes as they took her from me, leaving me helpless on the ground.
“You think you can take what’s mine?” I snarl, grabbing Damien by the collar and slamming him back down. “You think using a kid makes you a man?”
He coughs, chokes on blood, and still manages a crooked smile.
I see red. My fist draws back again . . .
And then I feel it, like a shift in the air. I stop cold, the breath catching in my throat. Slowly, I turn my head.
She’s there.
Rue.
Half-lit by the hallway light, standing barefoot and bruised, her hair tangled, her eyes wide with disbelief.
She’s real.
She’shere.
My heart stumbles.
I drop Damien, letting him fall like the scum he is.
All the rage drains from me like a snapped thread. I take a step forward, hand still sticky with blood, but I don’t reach for her. I don’t deserve to, not yet.
