Page 77 of Echos and Empires
And still it raged, a furious blur of movement and sound that threatened to swallow her whole. The crowd, the chaos. More than she ever imagined. More than she ever feared. They might all be lost.
And then it stopped. Just stopped, the chaos pulling back like a tide to reveal what was left. The same as it had on the boat, only she’d not been hiding with her eyes closed then, she’d been tucked away in the cabin.
Emma blinked, dazed, as if she had emerged from a dream. A nightmare. She turned, breathless and raw, her chest tightening with tears. All five of them. Alive. Standing. Liam was closest, helping Chris up from the ground, blood smearing the side of his face. Twenty bodies lay still around them, the silence heavier than the shouts and gunshots. But no one left. No one. It had to happen, and they were still with her. All of them.
It took a moment to register, the sudden stillness after the storm. It felt like waking from the depths of sleep, a disorienting return to reality.
She sucked in a breath, trying to fill her lungs with something other than fear. Her eyes locked on Liam, so close she could almost touch him. Her heart lurched as he pulled Chris to his feet, the relief crashing through her, too fast, too sharp.
Chris was bleeding just above his right eyes, but alive, and it made the panic morph into something that stung her eyes, caught her throat. It felt like she’d been holding her breath for eternity, like she’d forgotten how to exhale.
The quiet settled like dust, the aftermath as heavy as the violence had been. Bodies lay motionless, stark against the raw earth. It was so different from what she had imagined, but exactly what she feared.
The weight of it all hit her, almost harder than the shove that knocked her down. The twenty bodies. The echoes of the fight still ringing in her ears, in her heart.
It had to happen. There was no other way. But it didn’t stop the sadness from rising and swelling like a bruise.
Chris brushed dirt from his pants, blood streaking down his cheek, and Emma was struck by the familiarity of the motion, the normalcy. He was there, all of them were, and her chest ached with relief.
The world blurred around her. Not just from tears, but from the intensity of what had just unfolded, from the terrifying joy of still having them.
“Anyone else want to leave?” Liam shouted, his voice as steady as it had been before the chaos. “Now’s your chance!”
Emma’s breath hitched as she waited, heart in her throat. No one moved. Not a single person.
Her mind spun, tried to make sense of it, tried to comprehend that they were still here. That they were still with her.
The crowd hadn’t deserted them. It was the first real battle, and they’d won.
The relief, the disbelief, all mixed together and left her dizzy.
She had expected something else, the devastation too fresh for her to think beyond it. But they hadn’t lost. Not yet.
The silence grew, thicker than before, and she looked at the five men standing. Bash, Alex, Chris, Liam, and herself. They were more than she’d hoped, more than she could have asked for.
This was just the start. She knew it would only get harder. More fights. More bodies. But the moment carried its own weight, a fragile thing that might collapse but hadn’t.
Her gaze returned to the bodies, twenty of them, stark and still against the dirt. This was what Victor did to people. Turned them against each other. Against themselves. Made them choose between life and freedom.
But not now. Not this time.
They had chosen both. And they were all still with her. All of them.
The pause was unbearable. A breath held far too long. A weight that crushed and released. Then Chris stepped forward, breaking the silence with a precision that cut like a knife. Emma’s heart drummed in her chest as she listened, as she watched him. The urgency of his words matched the intensity of the moment. This was what came next. This was how they would win. He gave them everything, and then they cheered. The sound burst raw and powerful, sweeping through Emma, leaving her stunned. This was happening. It was really happening.
“They think they can control us,” Chris shouted, his voice unwavering, slicing through the tension with sharp authority. “But they’re wrong. They think they can divide us. But look around.”
Emma watched him, watched the crowd lean into his words, drawn to them like she was. Drawn to the impossible hope of it.
“They’re the ones who’ll be running,” Chris continued, a fierce edge to his promise. “Running from us.”
He gave them the plan, point by point, with the clarity of a man who had been waiting to speak this truth for a long time. “In two days, we will take down their communications. In four, we take out their transport.”
The crowd shifted, their energy building like a wave. She felt it crest and break over her, and saw the anticipation ignite like dry kindling.
“Then we go after Victor himself,” Chris said. “By the end of the week.”
The raw pulse of adrenaline coursed through her as she absorbed the enormity of their next steps. As Chris’s voice rose, as his words carved through the air and into their hearts.
