Page 172 of Primal

I check my watch. 7:14 am. Two percent battery left. Damn thing’s outlasted some of us.

Kade’s eyes flutter closed.

And I let him. We’re going to be okay.

Wesley helps Kade up.

I almost tuck the gun into Kristy’s fanny pack, but Kade’s eyes catch mine.

Not yet.

A few more steps. Then we’re fucking done.

Chapter Thirty-One

The rain’s down to a pissy drizzle. Seems the universe has finally run out of tears.

Fitting. Every step is a fucking war. My boots scuff the gravel as Wesley drags me toward the exit.

“Move your feet, champ. Not carrying you the rest of the way.”

The sky’s starting to lighten. Not sunrise yet. Just a bruise creeping along the horizon.

But even with the fresh air and the wind knifing through us, the gray light leaching into trees—

There’s nothing.

Nothing except the constant throb in my shoulder, my fingers. That fire in my gut.

Maybe everything else inside me is already dead.

When this is over—

If it’s ever over—

What comes next? Doesn’t matter.

The rest of my life is the next twenty fucking steps.

Payton walks ahead, gun raised, shoulders tight. She keeps glancing back—checking if I’m still conscious. Still breathing. Still hers.

Thirteen steps. Fourteen. If I can make it to fifteen, I can make it to the gates. To whatever comes after.

Keep moving. Get her safe.

Fuck.

What if Payton sees me as nothing but the monster she thinks she deserves? What if she spends the rest of her life haunted?

What if she finds someone else—

—gentler, safer, better?

What if—what if—

My next step lands wrong. A jolt of black. Crushing—

Wesley’s grip tightens.