Page 35 of Echo: Burn
I guide her through the corridors to my quarters. The most secure location in the base—reinforced door, emergency exit, direct line to operations. The only place I trust to keep her safe.
"I can't take your room...”
"It's the most secure location in the base." I'm already pulling extra blankets from the locker. "Reinforced door, emergency exit, direct line to the operations center. You'll be safe here."
"Where will you sleep?"
"Operations center. I need to be there when Cray wakes up anyway."
The lie tastes bitter. Truth is, I won't sleep. I'll spend the night checking perimeters, reviewing security feeds, making sure nothing else comes through that door to hurt her.
"Kane." She catches my wrist as I turn to leave. "Stay."
Every lesson learned in twenty years of ops says this is a mistake. Staying means proximity. Proximity means weakness. Weakness gets people killed.
"Willa...”
"Not for that. I just don't want to be alone right now. Please."
That one word—please—breaks my resolve. I nod. "Okay."
I settle into the chair by the door, careful to maintain distance even as my eyes track every movement she makes. She slips under the blankets fully clothed, exhaustion finally claiming her.
"Thank you," she says quietly. "For coming for me. Again."
"Wasn't a choice." The words come rough. "Not with you."
She's asleep before I finish speaking. Her breathing comes steady and deep, each inhale evidence she's alive. My sidearm needs cleaning. The ritual will keep my hands busy and my mind focused.
Can't think about how she looked with Cray's gun to her head. Can't think about the split second where I thought I'd lost her. Can't think about how that felt like losing everything that matters.
The gun comes apart in my hands. I clean each piece with methodical precision, the familiar task grounding me.
Three hours later, movement pulls my attention. Willa sits up, eyes finding me in the darkness.
"You should be resting," I say.
"So should you."
"Can't." I set the pistol aside. "Every time I close my eyes, I see Cray's finger on that trigger."
"I'm alive, Kane."
"You almost weren't." The words come out harder than intended. "One second slower and...”
"But I wasn't. I'm here. Because you came for me."
The chronometer reads 2247. Most of the base is asleep except essential watch rotations. Just the two of us awake in the darkness.
"I can still feel his arm around my throat." Her voice is quiet. "The gun against my head."
"First time someone's tried to kill you up close?"
"Second. But Jack was rage. Cray was just... professional. Like killing me was a job, nothing personal."
"To him, it was." I lean back in the chair. "That's what makes cleaners dangerous. No emotion. No hesitation. Just targets and tactics."
"You sound like you've known others."
