Page 9 of Fifth
“Even with traps and predators and whatever the hell the third thing is,” she pressed, her voice lower, colored with both dread and challenge, daring him to admit doubt.
“Affirmative. Even with all of those.” He looked down at her mouth, then at her hands on the canteen strap, then at the gate archway. “Listen to me. When we run, do not look back. If I say down, you go to ground without a question. If I say left, you turn. If I say stop, you stop. If there is a choice between a shallow cut and a deep hole, choose the cut. If there is a choice between me bleeding and you bleeding, Ibleed.”
She swallowed. Color rose in her cheeks. “That isn’t how partnerships work.”
“It is how this one works,” he said. “Do you understand?”
She nodded once. “I understand.”
The headman clapped his hands. The crowd pressed close enough that men in the back climbed crates to see. The floodlamps threw hard light across the gate archway. Cameras swung on tired mounts and steadied. The yard smelled of rust and sweat, of men and something feral waiting just beyond the lights, hungry for flesh andfear.
The headman lifted the loudspeaker. “You asked for blood,” he said. “You will get it. Trial One. The snare fields. The pit rings. The ground will take the careless and the fast. Place your last bets now.” He lowered the speaker and fixed his eyes on Locus. “You kept your scraps of clothing. Good. The creatures will take them from you if the pits don’t get you first.”
Locus lifted his chin. “Where is the next gate?” he asked, his voice carrying clearly.
The headman laughed, harsh and knowing. “That is for you to discover, alien. The preserve will show you the way, assuming you survive long enough to find it.”
Locus didn’t look at him. He looked at Hannah.
“Stay close to me,” he said. “When I reach for you, give me your hand.”
Her mouth softened without her permission. “I will.”
“I have only one rule for you.”
She stiffened, but then said, “Name it.”
“Follow my orders. Instantly. Do not hesitate. Do not argue. Do not disobey. If you do what I say, you will survive.”
Hannah took a deep breath and gave a reluctant nod. “Okay.”
“Then we begin.” He held out hispalm.
She set her hand in it. The fit settled into him like a key sliding into the right lock. He closed his fingers around hers, and the noise in the yard faded to a low hum that meant nothing.
The gate creaked, metal straining like an old beast waking. Lights above the arch flicked from red to green in a rapid pulse that made the crowd surge. Then the bell clanged, harsh and final, asound that cut through the yard and signaled that the trial had begun.
A guard leaned into the doorway and bared his teeth. “Dawn came early,” he said. “Run.”
Locus stepped through the gate archway with Hannah at his side. The preserve opened wide and waiting. The ground in frontof them looked simple. It wasn’t. The first wire sung under the top layer of dirt. He moved his foot an inch and the wire sighed instead of snapping. He smiled without showing his teeth.
The crowd roared behind them. The feed went live. The hunters shifted in their trucks, rifles resting across their knees, content to wait until the third trial. They would bide their time watching, wagering, and circling like carrion birds. The dogs saw something the cameras didn’t and pressed forward against their leads.
“Left,” he said quietly.
Hannah went left.
The trap smiled under the dirt and missed its bite by the width of a breath.
He tightened his grip on her hand. The trial had started.
The roar of the crowd dulled behind them, consumed by the looming hush of the preserve. Dirt swirled low across the ground, carrying the first scents of oil and blood like a warning. The air felt different now, charged, as though the earth itself waited for their mistakes.
They moved slowly, each step deliberate. Reddish-brown dirt shifted with every breath of wind, hiding wires meant to trip the careless. The way she gripped his hand warned of the tightness of her fear, and he heard the strain in her uneven breath. Every crunch beneath her small foot sounded like steel scraping free, sharp with threat. His hand stayed steady, guiding her in line, keeping her pace measured, his grip unbreakable.
“Do not rush,” he murmured. “Time does not kill here. Carelessness does.”
Her gaze darted everywhere, desperate to anticipate the invisible threats. At first she saw nothing, only earth and scrub. Then, abreak in the crust of soil. She froze. “There.”
