Page 148 of Born for Silk

“You can see them.” Han’s uncertain utterance kicks me right in the chest, demanding my attention.

I blink at him. “Pardon?”

“I would usually watch, but I feel I am out of my depths. Perhaps, uninformed. Naïve, even. You can prepare us.” He clears his throat, regret and humility sinking into his gaze. “You seem to be experienced. Mature beyond your appearance. If you think we need to prepare for a loss, you can watch the compound square so we can be ready when the hatch opens.”

My eyes widen.

With slow steps, he walks to a pipe. He swizzles it. It’s a periscope, similar to the one in the tank. My heart leaps into my throat, and I race to the cylindrical contraption fixed to the ceiling.

Pressing my eye to the blurry eyelet, it takes a moment for me to align my vision.

I finally focus and recognise the square, and every wisp of air expels from my lungs when I see the litter of Endigo bodies and Rome’s tank on fire…

Chapter Fifteen

Rome

Don’t kill the Common.

Don’t kill the Common.

It will hurt her…

It is hard to know the difference between the few Common residents ducking for cover under the riotous thunders of war and the unruly Endigo sprawling from their trucks in the dozens.

They raid.

They loot.

We hover in the shadows.

Pick them off one by one.

Kong and the small amount of Guard we have are worth ten Endigo with their corroded rifles, rattling off bullets from untrained hands.

Still, odds are one bullet will find a mark.

But she is safe…

That is what matters.

I duck behind the blazing tank, crouching with my rifle to my chest. Men are dying, their death groans and shots ride the howling wind.

The flaming military vehicle illuminates the wind-swept night, casting shadows on the walls, on the ground, distracting and confusing the Endigo. Embers spark into the air, flying and whipping in an almost ethereal wave.

I survey the area.

A man ahead of me.

In the crook of an arch.

Not Common.

To not give my position away, I come up behind him and knock him unconscious with the butt of my rifle. He drops. I step on his cranium as I stride forward, braced and ready for more.

At my left shoulder, rounds rattle off.

At my right, glass smashes.

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