Page 54 of Altered (Crewel World 2)

The inferno is building inside the ammunition factory and I can’t think of a worse place to be trapped. We’re only steps from the exit, but I whip around, grabbing for strands, and move and tuck and weave to build a trail of protection behind us. The rush of fear makes it easier to see the wild strands, but their unruliness slows me down. I have to look closely to differentiate the time strands from the matter. As we reach open air, the Remnant that Dante hit over the head jumps toward me, landing so close that I panic and miscalculate my work, yanking the wrong strand. It wrenches out from the strands surrounding it, brushing against the flames. It slides across the plant, shooting sparks that amplify the raging fire and then the factory shatters into smoke and debris.

Black plumes billow up from the burning plant, and as soon as we’re a safe distance away, I drop to my knees, hacking against the fumes I’ve inhaled. It could have been worse. No one seems to be hurt and we have what we came for.

I’m stumbling back to my feet when Dante grabs hold of my shirt and pushes me back down. “Want to leave any more proof that you’re here?”

“It was an accident,” I mumble, but it sounds weak even to my ears.

“Like that ship you unwound from the sky? You claim to want answers, to want to help us fight the Guild, but what I see is a stupid girl bent on blowing things up.” His words sting.

“Maybe next time I’ll let them kill you,” I scream. He’s hit his target though; I’m wounded by his accusation.

“Get control of it or don’t use it,” he seethes, towering over me. “You jeopardize everything because you don’t know what you’re doing.”

A hundred jibes tumble into my brain, but before I can settle on the one that will be the most hurtful, a Remnant limps from the plant’s remains. Erik’s on his feet, heading toward him, when Jost jumps in front of him.

“Let him go,” he commands.

“He’s going to run back and tell the others where we are,” Erik says.

“And by then we’ll be long gone,” Jost says. “We aren’t ready to take on another pack and these cycles will get us back to the crawler. The Guild will come to investigate what’s happened, so we need to get out of here.”

“So you’re going to let him go rat us out? These cycles better have lots of gas, because the second we stop they’ll catch up,” Erik scoffs.

“Cormac already knows we’re on Earth,” I say, trying to defuse the situation.

“He doesn’t know you’re here,” Erik reminds me.

“Let’s go,” Dante says. His anger at me still flames in his words, but he sounds distant now. Determined.

I’d lost track of how far we’d traveled to find the mines, but I know the crawler is hours away. With the motocycles we can get back to it fast, but I know it might already be too late. It won’t take the Guild long to realize something has happened. I can only hope they assume the explosion was caused by the Remnants. I can’t imagine that they haven’t had problems controlling them before, especially if the Guild keeps them locked in a factory.

The only roads between here and where we left the equipment are cracked with age. It’s probably not a top priority to maintain roads out here, but it makes riding the cycle trickier. I’ve nearly skidded off course twice but manage to keep my motocycle upright. It’s a good thing too, because we’ve lost Dante and Erik, who are now so far ahead of us they would never hear a crash. It’s cold out here as night really settles in, and save for dark piles of bones that I hope are those of animals, there’s not much to see.

I’m finally

getting the hang of riding the cycle when it begins to make a spluttering noise. Jost responds by speeding up to cut off the others, and by the time they turn back, I’m waiting next to the immobile motocycle.

“Out of gas,” Dante proclaims, and we redistribute so that I am now riding with Jost.

“How much farther do we have to go?” Erik asks.

“Not much longer, especially now that we can keep pace with one another,” Dante says, and I feel heat flood my cheeks.

We race through the crumbling roads, zipping around large cracks and holes. My suspicion that I was holding Jost back was right. The ride is terrifying. It’s harder to trust the safety of the cycle when I’m not the one controlling it. Whirling through the crisp air, my hair beats across my face, and I clutch Jost’s waist. The speed results in a sort of paralysis of mind and body, and I keep my eyes shut. The only parts of me that seem to be working are the arms that squeeze around him tighter with each jerk of the motocycle, and then the hum of the motocycle fades down, and I realize that we’re coming to a stop. Carefully opening one eye, I peer over Jost’s shoulder, not sure what to expect.

The crawler sits before me, and I can’t believe how happy I am to see it, considering I hate riding in it. Dante wastes no time gathering the charges and panels. Shame over our screaming match seeps into my chest. Dante came out here to do work, and I messed everything up.

“Did you get any solar energy?” I ask him, trying to make conversation.

“Enough,” he says with a grunt. He hoists a panel onto his shoulder and turns away from me.

“Enough?”

“Enough that Kincaid might not ask questions about where the hell we’ve been all day,” Dante says.

He ignores me as the boys help him load up the back of the crawler. Erik throws me concerned glances, but no one says anything more about what happened at the ammunition factory.

“Sit up front?” Dante asks when we go to leave. I’m surprised that it’s a request and not a demand.

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