Rael hadn't packed to leave. He never planned to.
But now his bunker was stripped — weapons, rations, spare power cells, even the last sealed water flask. Skye stood near the exit in a worn pack too large for her frame, her fingers curled tightly around the strap.
"You sure about this?" she asked.
Rael adjusted the grip on his rifle. "Doesn't matter if I am."
The girl had brought more than a plea for help. Less than twelve hours after she arrived, a drone scout circled overhead — military shell, broker-mods on the sensor grid. He fried it, but it told him everything.
They were already tracking her. Which meant they were already tracking him.
They moved at first light. The Saltreach cracked beneath their boots, sun spilling over the horizon like molten rust. They walked without talking. Rael preferred it that way.
"How far's the next settlement?" Skye asked, finally breaking the silence.
Rael kept his eyes forward. "Three days if we move fast. Five if we don't."
"And if they're waiting?"
"Then we don't go through the front."
She nodded like she understood. Maybe she did. She had that look—raw and ragged, like someone who'd had to grow up mid-sprint.
They camped that night beneath the shattered ribs of an old transport hauler. Skye watched the stars through a crack in the hull while Rael kept his ears sharp and his pistol closer.
"You knew my father?" she asked.
Rael hesitated, then nodded. "He patched me up once. Didn't ask questions. Didn't sell me out. That made him rare."
"He was building something. Before they came." She pulled a small, palm-sized device from her jacket — sleek, compact, half-finished. "Said it could block their trackers. He died before he could finish it."
Rael turned the piece in his hand. Clever. Crude, but clever.
"He wanted you to have it," she said.
He handed it back. "Then I will."
A noise — just a whisper — cut through the dark. Not wind. Not natural.
Rael moved in a blink, signaling silence. Skye froze. He scanned the wreckage's edge and saw it — a figure, lean and armored, glinting in the night.
"Chain scout," he murmured. "Solo. But there'll be more."
He took the shot before the scout even raised his rifle. The body slumped in dust.
Rael turned to Skye. "We move. Now."