Chapter 2

The Iron Graveyard lived up to its name.

The place was a cemetery of old-world skyscrapers. Countless steel giants stood in every state of ruin, toppled and tangled together like the stripped skeletons of ancient beasts.

Wind tore through the gaps in the wreckage and screamed, as if a thousand dead voices were crying out at once.

Every step crunched over broken concrete and rusted rebar, and the sound set my teeth on edge.

We had to stay sharp. Mutant creatures liked to nest in the shadows, and loose metal could break free from above without warning.

Nathan took point. He moved like a seasoned lone wolf, every motion precise and deliberate. His eyes swept each potential ambush point, and he signaled me with tactical hand signs to watch my step.

Our target was the Starship, a downed vessel wedged into the far end of the corridor like a small mountain. Years of windblown sand had buried half its hull, and the exposed sections were scorched with blackened wounds.

Getting inside went smoothly. The air was thick with the smell of engine oil and ozone, and the metal deck was cold under our boots. According to the intel we'd paid top dollar for, the beacon was in the main control room.

It was just sitting there on a cracked console. A silver cylinder, roughly the length of my forearm, covered in fine engravings I couldn't read.

The moment I touched it, a faint warmth pulsed through my fingertips, and the engravings lit up with a soft blue glow. A low hum rose from somewhere deep inside it.

We found it. My heart hammered in my chest, and I could feel the blood rushing through my veins. I eased the beacon into the shock-resistant pack on my back, then turned to Nathan and flashed him a thumbs-up.

He grinned back, and the relief in his eyes said everything.

But the second we turned to move out, a sharp gunshot ripped through the silence inside the wreck.

Nathan shouted, "Get down!"

His voice hit me at the same instant a round slammed into the metal wall beside my head. He tackled me to the deck, and white-hot shrapnel skimmed past my scalp, carving an ugly gash into the wall behind us.

It was the Dust Wolves. The most vicious pack of scavengers in the wasteland.

A storm of gunfire poured through the breach in the Starship's hull and pinned us behind an overturned engine block.

Bullets hammered against the metal like a frenzied drumbeat, and the noise rattled through my skull. Their firepower was relentless, and we couldn't even lift our heads.

Nathan shouted in my ear, barely cutting through the roar of gunfire. "I'll cover you! Take the beacon and go through the ventilation shaft!"

I grabbed his arm so hard my nails nearly broke the skin. "No! We go together or not at all!"

He pried my fingers loose and looked at me. Really looked at me. I saw resolve in his eyes, and grief, and something else I couldn't name at the time. Something unhinged.

Before I could stop him, he yanked the pack off my back, slung it over his own shoulders, and shoved me hard toward the ventilation shaft.

He shouted, "Go!"

Before I could even react, he vaulted over the barricade and threw himself into the open, straight into the storm of gunfire.

Time stretched in that moment. I watched the Dust Wolves swing their barrels toward him, every muzzle locking on.

Bullets tore through him in bursts of red mist, and he staggered but kept firing, squeezing off precise, controlled shots as he pushed forward.

He bought me three seconds.

But I didn't run. My legs turned to lead, and I stood there, frozen, watching him fall like a tree cut at the base, slow and heavy, tilting backward until he hit the ground.

I screamed and ran to him, pulling his body into my arms. Something warm and thick soaked through my clothes almost instantly. Three ragged holes gaped in his chest, and every breath he took pushed dark, foaming blood out of them.

He grabbed my hand with the last of his strength, his eyes locked on mine. "Stay alive," he whispered. "Take our hope and find Eden."

The light in his eyes, that steady flame that had always made me feel safe, flickered and went out. His hand slipped from mine and dropped to the ground.

The world became a roar in my ears. I couldn't hear anything, couldn't see anything. There was only his body growing cold in my arms. I held him tight, and with him, the pack on his back that carried the beacon.

A searing pain ripped through my stomach, like a hot iron driven straight through me. I looked down and saw a red bloom spreading beneath me, slow and steady.

My mind sank into darkness, swallowed by a despair with no bottom and no end.