You have a concussion.
She fought to sit up, saw Peter dead in the dirt beside her. A group of men chased the drone in circles, then followed it south toward the river. It felt surreal, like a dream, like something that was happening far away, something that wasn’t even real.
So many gunshots. Men falling dead.
Instinct took hold, her scattered thoughts coalescing into a single word.
Run.
If she could get to her feet, if she could get to the forest and escape…
She tried to stand, but her head seemed to shatter, the world spinning. She sank to the dirt again, landing on her side, the pain inside her skull almost blinding.
“Kristi, stay down!”
Now she was hearing voices.
Great.
Then a man in camo ran out of the forest, heading straight toward her, rifle in his hand, his face painted. “Stay down!”
Was he talking to her?
Of course, he’s talking to you!
That must mean he was here for her.
Thank God!
She rolled onto her back, watching as he dropped to one knee, aimed, fired.
Rat-at-at! Rat-at-at! Rat-at-at!
Then he rushed forward, clipped his rifle to a rig on his chest, and helped her sit. “It’s going to be okay, Kristi.”
She looked into his painted face, saw his eyes through his safety glasses. The breath left her lungs in a rush, relief washing through her, as sweet and pure as sunlight. She would recognize those eyes anywhere. “Malik!”
Cobra had come for her. Malik had come.
“I’m getting you out of here.” Malik spoke to someone through his mic. “Quit fucking with the drone and cover us!”
The drone flew over the camp, heading north.
Malik helped her to her feet, steadied her. “I need you to move as fast as you can. We’ve got a three-mile hike back to the vehicles.”
“My head… It hurts. I hit it. Concussion, I think. I’m so dizzy.”
“Can you walk?”
“I … I think so.” Then she spotted Obi.
He lay in the dirt beside Jidda, terror on his face.
She held out her hand. “Obi! Come with us! Hurry!”
“Kristi, I don’t think—”
“He’s just a boy.” Kristi struggled to stay on her feet, dizziness dragging her down, black spots in front of her eyes. “He isn’t one of them.”