hadn’t stopped to make sure none of the victims were pregnant.
She ran for the door, only stopping to brace herself against the wall when she reached the exit. One of the Elites—some guy whose name she couldn’t remember—stood by the door. She sucked air into her lungs, trying to stop her head from swimming. Damn it, she hated feeling weak. Too out of breath to talk, she waved a hand at the door, gesturing for the Elite to let her out.
“Sorry, Lily. No one goes in or out.”
“What?”
“Carter’s orders.” The Elite’s expression was grim. The guy didn’t even look at her. “He’s taking care of the bodies.”
“But . . .” she stammered. He shook his head. Oh God. What if McKenna was out there? What if she was dead? What if she had died out there while Lily was off playing Joan of Arc? What if she never even saw the body, because she’d been too much of a coward to look at the victims?
She pushed herself away from the wall. “You have to let me out.”
“Can’t do it.”
“I’m looking for”—Her voice broke and a sob rose up. It took everything she had not to collapse right there—“for my friend McKenna. Maybe you’ve seen her, she’s—”
“Everybody knows McKenna.” Finally he looked at her, a flash of sympathy in his gaze. “I helped cover the bodies. I didn’t see her. I can’t promise, but—”
“Thank you.” She turned back around and surveyed the open cavern, looking one more time for McKenna’s form. The cavern was packed. It looked like every Green and Elite was either out in the triage area or over by the KP station. No one wanted to be alone. But she still didn’t see McKenna. That’s when she really ran. Past the tables at KP where the uninjured clustered, past the pallets someone had laid out on the hard, stone floor, past the dozens of injured Greens and Elites. She practically flew through the cavern so that it passed in a blur of blood-soaked clothes, anguished cries, and fearful whimpers.
Lily’s eyes moved frantically over the crowd, cataloging the wounded without really seeing them.
What would she do if McKenna was hurt?
But no. McKenna couldn’t be hurt. She just couldn’t be.
Fear pounded through Lily’s veins as she wended her way through the honeycombed cavern. Anxiety, cramps, and pain all mingled in her gut so that by the time she reached their RV, an Itasca Sunrise with the double teal stripes, she had to bend over at the waist and spit a mouthful of bile onto the hard rock of the cavern floor. She pressed a palm to her side as she straightened, willing her stomach into obedience. Her stomach muscles were cramping from her burst of running, and the pain from her gunshot was so intense it was like fireworks bursting behind her eyelids, but she dragged herself up the three steps and threw open the door to the RV.
“McKenna?” she called.
“I’ll be out in a minute!” came a voice from the RV’s bedroom.
Oh, thank God.
Lily’s knees gave out and she slid to the floor, her back against the closed door. She was shaking. Not just a little tremble in her hands, but shaking all over. Every major muscle group quivered as wave after wave of adrenaline swept through her. She clutched her legs to her chest, desperate for warmth, and cursed the cold humidity of the cave, sure she would never be warm again. Not after the months of living under this damn mountain. Certainly not after seeing all those bodies. Not after fearing that someone else she loved might be dead.
She had no idea what McKenna was doing in the bedroom, but she was glad for this moment of solitude, this chance to pull it together before she had to face her friend. She needed to be strong. Not just for McKenna, but for herself, too. If she cracked now, she’d never be able to put the pieces of her shattered self together again.
She didn’t know how long she sat, burying the tears and panic deep inside. When she felt a little steadier, she pushed to her feet and
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