Page 35 of Beast in the Badlands
I huff and continue tinkering with the radio as if it holds all the answers. Maybe it will pick up a signal—any signal—that’ll pull us from this madness.
Emry turns her focus back to another patient while I keep one eye on her and one on the soldiers shifting uneasily around me. The last thing I want is for someone to lose control and try something foolish.
She moves with purpose; each stitch and bandage precise, as if saving these men gives her some sort of power in this hellhole. I don’t understand it—but I can’t help but admire her resolve.
One soldier mutters something under his breath as she passes by—a low jab meant to cut deep—and for an instant, fury ignites in me like an explosion waiting to happen.
“Shut your mouth,” I growl without thinking.
Emry shoots me a look, sharp yet soft at once—a reminder that this isn’t just about me or him or any of them; it’s about survival.
The radio crackles to life again, the static buzzing in my ears like a swarm of angry hornets. I push myself off the crate and limp toward the makeshift comm setup, my leg protesting with every step. I adjust the dial, tuning out the noise until it sharpens into clarity.
“Took me long enough to find your damn signal, Renn.”
Kairon’s voice slices through the chaos, rough but steady. Relief washes over me.
"I can't believe this damn thing actually work," I utter in disbelief.
"What's your location?" he asks, already jumping into action to come get me. I can hear a softer, feminine voice piecing through the shit signal. Ava, probably.
“Been busy,” I mutter, my voice low enough that only I can hear. “The planet I crashed on… it’s… complicated.”
“Complicated how?” Kairon’s tone shifts slightly—more concerned now.
I scan the tent, taking in Emry as she moves with purpose among wounded soldiers. She kneels beside a man with an amputated hand, her brow furrowed in concentration. He winces under her touch, but she stays focused.
“It's a war zone,” I reply, my gaze fixed on her as if she’s the only thing grounding me here. "My ship is in ruins. No way off."
“Right.” Kairon sounds skeptical but doesn’t press further. “I can come get you immediately.”
My heart quickens at the thought of escape—of leaving this war-torn hellhole behind. I glance back at Emry; she’s oblivious to everything beyond her immediate world of wounds and blood. The idea of bringing her along feels right; it feels safe.
“Bring the crew,” I say, each word a weight that sinks into my chest like a promise. “I’ll transmit coordinates.”
Before he can dig for more details or ask why I’m suddenly so intent on leaving, I cut the comm, severing our connection with a finality that leaves no room for argument.
Watching Emry brings a strange calmness over me. The way she leans in close to the soldier—the focus in her eyes—it tugs at something deep inside me. This place is hell, yet she stands firm against it, refusing to back down even when faced with insurmountable odds.
I try to shake off the emotion swirling within me and focus on what’s next—getting out of here. For all my instincts screaming at me to protect her, there’s also something about leaving that tugs harder still.
Emry finishes with the soldier and looks up just as our eyes meet across the tent. She raises an eyebrow but says nothing; she doesn’t need to. Her expression tells me everything—I’m stillinjured and should be resting instead of scheming my way out of this place.
“Keep an eye on him,” she says softly to another medic—the only other one, by the looks of it— before turning back to check supplies stacked haphazardly against one wall.
“I’ll be fine.” The words slip out before I can think better of them.
Her lips quirk into a small smile—a brief flash before it vanishes behind determination once more.
“You’re lucky you have someone watching your back,” she mutters as she rummages through her medical gear.
There it is again—the reminder that while I feel anchored by this bizarre bond forming between us, it might just be enough for her too. She cares about these people like they’re family even if they don’t deserve it half the time.
"Yeah, yeah," I grumble. "Pretty sure I'm the one who saved your ass."
I turn back toward the comm unit and take a breath steadying myself against uncertainty swirling around us all like smoke from dying embers.
With Kairon en route, we have a chance—a sliver of hope—and somehow that hope grows larger every time Emry glances my way, unaware of how much power she holds simply by existing amidst all this wreckage.
