Page 57 of Ghosts of the Dead

“You haven’t eaten.”

“I’m not hungry.”

Mars looks like he wants to argue, but Jace shakes his head. None of them argue, and that’s somehow worse. I miss their noise and their bickering.

I try to talk to fill the void, to tell a joke, to ask what the plan is next and where we go from here, but the words don’t fit in my mouth. They fall apart before they make it out. So instead, I mumble something about needing sleep.

But how can I sleep when I have concrete proof that Summer has been taken by dangerous men, and I’ll likely never be able to find her again? We scouted every inch of the area around the docks, and still didn’t find a single clue about where to go next.

I turn my back to them and curl up on the edge of the circle of firelight. Luna repositions herself to curl around me as my living blanket. The flames flicker against my shoulder blades. It’s warm, but it’s not enough. Nothing is enough right now, but Luna’s breathing and the feel of her body against mine are something.

My eyes drop closed. Not because I want to sleep, but because it’s the only way I can stop watching the people who keep trying to save me, as though they’re starting to believe they’re failing. I don’t want to add that to my conscience.

Before I drift off, I hear one of them speak in a low and sad tone. “We’re losing her.”

Another says, “We’re doing everything we can.”

The words aren’t meant for me. They’re whispering toeach other. To themselves. To the ghosts hanging over this place like smoke.

I wish I could tell them…I know. I see them trying.

The words don’t come, so I bury my face deeper into Luna’s fur and let her be the one thing still tethering me to this world as sleep finally drags me under.

I dream of voices I can’t place, and hands I can’t hold.

21

MARS

She’s fading.

No one wants to say it out loud, but it’s there. I can feel it in the way she looks through us instead of at us. The way she curls in on herself at night like she’s trying to take up less space in a world that’s already trying to erase her. I hate it, and I hate that we’re failing her. ThatI’mfailing her.

She looks so damn breakable tonight, and all I can think is I should be the one holding her together. Not watching her fall apart.

She sits near the fire, picking at the frayed edge of her denim shorts. Her knees are bent at an awkward angle to keep them out of the dirt, and we still haven’t found any thread to stitch up her shin.

Then there’s the matter of her wrist. I can tell her wounds still cause her pain. I should ask if she’s okay, but I don’t. Not yet. There’s something deeper I want to tend to first.

Luna lies curled against Autumn’s side, the dog’s dark eyes tracking every movement around the camp. Even Luna seems to sense something’s wrong. She hasn’t left Autumn’s side for more than a few minutes since the bunker. Her presence is the only thing that draws any reaction from Autumnnow. When her hands move to pet her, or to hold the music box she won’t open.

I crouch in front of Autumn and hold out a dented tin cup. It has the last of the hot water in it, steeped with some kind of burnt leaf Caspian swore helped digestion. “Drink. Don’t ask what it is.”

She blinks up at me and takes it without argument. One hand moves to rest on Luna’s fur. That’s what worries me most. I miss my wild little lunatic who steals socks and tosses molotovs like party favors.

I sit beside her, careful not to disturb Luna’s position, and wait a minute. Then two. Then I say the words I’ve never said out loud. “Two years.”

She looks over with a confused expression, though her fingers continue their absent stroking of Luna’s coat.

“I was in the special forces. You know, before the world burned. Two years.” I stare at the dancing flames. “I was good. Fast, smart, and obedient. A living weapon. Every commanding officer’s wet dream.”

Her eyes narrow on the word obedient.

“Until we were sent into a civilian zone on a covert operation. No engagement. Track the target, confirm the location, and extract clean.” I swallow hard before I say the next part. “There were civilians trapped inside the compound. Men, women, and children. The intel said it was abandoned.” I huff a pathetic laugh. “Well, it wasn’t.”

Her fingers curl around the tin tighter, and Luna shifts closer, pressing her nose against Autumn’s arm as if sensing the tension.

“I made a call. Blew our cover to get them out. They lived. Mission failed.”

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