Brought Down

27. A Visitor

Garrett

We sit on the floor in silence, each of us preoccupied with his own thoughts. Somehow, the distance between us has disappeared, and we're sitting shoulder to shoulder. I find even that little contact distracting, but I don't protest, provided he doesn't try anything else.

He's probably keeping close to me to make sure I won't slip away if he dozes off. But falling asleep is unlikely. Just minutes ago, we've heard a series of distant explosions. Julian claimed it must have been thunder, but I'm not sure. Not knowing what's going on out there is driving me crazy, and so does the constant contemplation of whether I should, despite Julian's objections, return to the hideaway.

"We won't stay here forever, anyway," I told him. "We'll have to leave eventually, and even if we seek refuge in another settlement, they will know who we are."

It won't be pretty, but perhaps I still have enough friends to keep us alive. Was it such an unforgivable crime to save a person from certain death?

"Eventually," he said, "but not yet. Let things calm down."

But things never calm down.

Suddenly, there's a noise outside the cave. The wind is wailing constantly, but this sound is much stronger. A jet landing nearby? We exchange glances. I gesture for him to remain on the floor and get up to my feet, retrieving my gun.

"Give me a gun, too," he whispers.

"No."

He looks hurt. "Come on, we're on the same side now."

"Shut up." I gesture for him to stay down, then begin to move towards the entrance of the cave, keeping close to the wall. Perhaps we should just escape the cave through the crack in the back wall, the one leading to the system of other caves—but I don't fancy navigating them in the dark, with only one flashlight. There shouldn't be things around here, but I wouldn't bet my life on it. Before we try going there, I prefer to know who our visitors are. I pause, my back to the wall, my gun ready.

"Garrett," a familiar voice says. "Don't shoot."

I breathe out with relief and lower my gun.

"What're you doing?" Julian hisses, but I wave him away and just walk towards the entrance. Before I reach it, a figure appears there.

Angie. Who else could it be? The only other person who knows about this place.

I stop in front of her. Avoiding my gaze, she looks behind my shoulder, her eyes searching the cave.

"Angie, I'm sorry," I say. "I should have talked to you before I left. I should have explained --"

"It doesn't matter," she says sharply, not looking at me. "Do you think I came here to talk about us? It doesn't matter anymore. The whole exchange was a trap, and they have traced us to the hideaway. We're under attack. We're still evacuating people to the mines, but we lost most of the jets, and Mortenson and Wiggs are stuck in Rosefield, so now there's barely any trained pilots left. It's a disaster. It's not about winning anymore, it's about holding them back enough time to evacuate everyone. Will you --"

"Of course I will." I put my hand of her arm, but she shakes it off.

There's footsteps behind me, and then Julian says, "Excuse my interruption, but what about me?"

Angie looks him up and down, the contempt on her face unmistakable. Then, she glances at me with a similar expression. It feels like a stab in the heart. I'm so used to seeing a better version of myself through her eyes, that this new attitude really hurts.

I turn to Julian.

"They need me. You can stay or you can come with me, the choice is yours. But I must go."

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