Page 85 of Broken Sentinel

I join them at the entrance, peering into the pre-dawndarkness. My vision adjusts instantly, picking out details in the shadowy landscape. "Options?"

"North, through the ridge system," Vex suggests. "Difficult terrain for their vehicles."

"They'll anticipate that," Trent counters. "Standard evasion route."

"So we do something non-standard," I say, thinking aloud. "What's the last thing they'd expect?"

The men exchange glances.

"Going back toward Haven's Edge would be suicide," Vex says.

"And continuing east puts us deeper into their search grid," Trent adds.

I study the landscape, considering. "What about the contamination zone? The one you pointed out on the map yesterday."

"The chemical wasteland?" Vex looks surprised. "That's twenty kilometers south. Highly toxic."

"Exactly why Unity won't follow. Their standard equipment can't handle it."

"Neither can we," Trent objects. "Without proper protection?—"

"My modifications have been adapting to environmental toxins," I remind him. "And Vex's modifications include toxin resistance, right?"

Vex nods slowly, comprehension dawning. "It could work. My adaptations handle most wasteland toxins."

"And you?" I ask Trent, the question hanging heavy between us.

He holds my gaze. "Standard Sentinel enhancement includes basic toxin filtering. Limited duration, but enough to cross the zone if we move quickly."

I turn back to the landscape, decision made. "South it is. Through the contamination zone."

We pack quickly, redistributing supplies for maximum efficiency. As we prepare to move out, Vex pulls me aside.

"Your modifications should adapt to the toxins," he says quietly, "but the process will be uncomfortable. Possibly painful."

"Define 'uncomfortable.'"

His amber eyes are serious in the dim light. "Like your body rewiring itself from the inside out."

"Been there, done that," I mutter. "I'll manage."

"I know you will, Flutterby." His hand touches my arm briefly. "Just stay close. The adaptation happens faster with proximity to compatible modifications."

The intimacy of the moment is broken when Trent approaches, pack secured and face unreadable.

"Ready?" he asks, eyes flicking between us.

We exit the cave under cover of lingering darkness, moving south in a defensive formation. The forest gradually thins as we progress, vegetation becoming sparser and more distorted—the first signs of the contamination zone's influence.

Two hours into our journey, we pause at the edge of what was once a river. Now it's a sluggish, rust-colored stream cutting through barren ground. The air carries a metallic tang that makes my nose wrinkle.

"Edge of the contamination zone," Vex confirms. "From here, we move fast. No stopping until we reach the other side."

"How bad is it going to get?" I ask.

"Worse than this," he says simply. "Much worse."

Trent checks his watch. "Sentinel enhancement filter activating now. Three-hour window before degradation begins."

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