Chapter 60
+25 BONUS
Chapter 60
Richard and I sat shoulder to shoulder in the dim, dust–scented alcove of the restricted war archive, files spread out like offerings between us. Nathan had given us provisional clearance–one hour, no copies, no digital uploads. Just two pens, two legal pads, and more paper than I’d seen in months.
The quiet wasn’t awkward. It was intimate. Intentional. Every shift of paper, every scribble of notes, filled the space between us with unspoken questions. When our fingers brushed, I didn’t flinch, but I didn’t breathe either.
“Battle transcripts,” he said, sliding a folder toward me, voice low.
“Incident reports,” I murmured, passing him one of mine in return. Our knuckles grazed.
We worked in rhythm, the kind born of long hours and deep trust. Then I found something.
“Richard.”
He was beside me in an instant.
“This is a new death report. Red Fang. But no body. Just ‘assumed deceased in hostile fire.“”
He scanned the page. “That’s convenient.”
“Look at the date. This was weeks after his last confirmed sighting.”
His arm pressed against mine. “He didn’t die. He disappeared.”
Our faces were close now. His breath was steady, mine wasn’t.
“Do you think he survived?”
“I think someone wanted us to believe he didn’t.”
I swallowed. The closeness wasn’t accidental anymore. We weren’t pretending to ignore it. But
neither of us moved.
Finally, I leaned back and closed the folder, heart rattling. “We should keep going.”
“Yeah,” he said, though his voice was rougher than before.
The space between us didn’t refill.
We kept working. But we didn’t stop thinking.
We stepped out of the archive into cold hall light, blinking at the sudden brightness. Emma intercepted us halfway down the hall, her pace brisk and her expression tight.
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“A delegate from Stone Ridge is missing,” she said. “Neutral pack. He didn’t check in after the regional breakout.”
I stopped mid–stride. “Missing how long?”
“Long enough,” she said. “No comms, no escort. We’re keeping it quiet for now.”
I pulled out my tablet, already scanning for recent patrol patterns. “I’ll loop in perimeter scouts and grid the search.”
Emma nodded, then paused just long enough to glance back at me. “You’re good at this, you know,” she said, a note of warmth in her voice. “You didn’t even hesitate. I’ve seen you grow more confident every day.”
Then she turned away quickly, already calling in names over her headset.
As I moved toward the command station, Richard caught up beside me, matching my pace. He didn’t say anything–just handed me his spare map file. Our hands brushed as I took it.
It wasn’t a romantic gesture. But it was a quiet tether. A kind of knowing.
We split the map into quadrants. I coordinated the check–ins while he rerouted two patrols.
An hour later, we caught a faint signal from the edge of the western treeline.
When I reached the delegate, he was slumped awkwardly against the twisted base of a tree root, one arm dangling uselessly over his knee. His face was pale and sweat–slicked, lips cracked from dehydration. He blinked at me, confused, like he wasn’t sure if I was real.
I dropped to my knees in front of him and gently took his wrist. His pulse was erratic but present. ” You’re gonna be okay,” I said, steadying my voice. “You’re safe now.”
He didn’t answer, just stared through me, as if he was still somewhere else.
“Scout,” I called over my shoulder. “Water.”
The canteen was in my hand a moment later, and I pressed it gently to the man’s lips. “Small sips. That’s it.”
He drank, trembled, and finally sagged against the bark with a breath that sounded like surrender. I stayed crouched, one hand on his shoulder, until the shaking eased.
“Can you walk?” I asked.
His eyes met mine. “I think so.”
“We’ll take it slow,” I told the delegate. “I got you.”
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“Said someone tried to question him,” the scout whispered. “About voting records.”
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