Page 21 of Beast in the Badlands
“What do you mean?” He tilts his head slightly, genuinely curious.
“They thought they could extract resources and just leave us behind when things got tough,” I snap. “I was here when they first arrived—the promises they made about protecting us from harm.”
The bitterness rises within me like bile as memories flash before my eyes: families torn apart by explosions; children crying amidst rubble; promises that turned hollow under fire and ash.
“I stayed behind because I thought we’d fight together,” I continue, quieter now but no less fierce. “But it’s every man for himself out there now.”
Renn's gaze hardens as he listens intently. His posture reflects a blend of tension and concern that only deepens my frustration.
“You think they’ll send help?” I scoff, shaking my head incredulously. “They’ve left us to rot while they chase shadows elsewhere—what makes you think they’ll come back? They’ve already written us off.”
Renn’s jaw tightens further at my words; it’s like watching metal bend under pressure without breaking.
“And if we lose this place…” My voice drops lower now as if saying it aloud will make it more real. “If there isn’t even an evac window left…”
A muscle in his jaw ticks—a sign of control beneath that surface calm—but he doesn’t interrupt me.
“It won’t be long before factions start fighting over whatever remains,” I finish with a sigh heavy enough to drown out hope.
Still, he stands there quietly absorbing every word like some kind of fortress while I unravel before him.
CHAPTER 17
RENN
Isit on the edge of the med bed, legs stiff and aching. The pain shoots through me like a bad memory—one I can’t shake off. I’ve learned to walk in short bursts, using the crutch I rigged from leftover metal scraps, but every step feels like a gamble.
Emry moves across the room with purpose, her hands deftly organizing supplies and straightening up the cluttered space. The way she reclaims it all—like this is her territory—is mesmerizing. Each motion carries an energy that makes me want to reach out and anchor myself to her.
Instead, I grip a knife, its blade glinting in the afternoon light filtering through broken windows. The edge needs sharpening; I can’t help but feel it’s the only thing I have control over right now. My hands work mechanically, sliding the blade against the stone until it catches just right.
“Can’t believe you’re back already,” I mutter without looking up, focusing on my task instead of the urge to watch her.
“Had to check in,” she replies, glancing over her shoulder. Her tone is light but holds an undertone of tension—a tension that reflects my own.
“You shouldn’t be doing this alone,” I say, finally meeting her gaze. “You should’ve waited for backup.”
“Backup?” She scoffs lightly as if it’s laughable. “There is no backup for us anymore.”
Her eyes narrow as she speaks, but there’s something softer beneath it all—a flicker of vulnerability that pulls at me.
“I’m not your problem,” she adds sharply before turning back to her supplies.
I keep sharpening the knife, trying to mask how much her words hit me. It’s true; Emry isn’t my responsibility. But somehow, she’s become more than just another survivor in this hellhole—we both know it.
I glance at her again. The way she moves has a rhythm; it draws me in even as anger simmers beneath my skin at how unfair this all is.
“Damn it,” I grit out through my clenched jaw. My grip tightens around the knife handle as frustration builds inside me like a storm cloud threatening to burst.
Emry pauses, sensing my shift in energy without turning back around.
“What?” she asks cautiously.
“Nothing.” I bite back my frustration. “Just… don’t push yourself so hard.”
She meets my gaze again, those bright eyes fierce yet tired—two warriors locked in this unending battle together against fate itself. And for a moment, all I want is to close that distance between us—to reach out and ground myself against whatever madness swirls outside these walls.
But instead? I keep sharpening the knife.
