Chapter 6 · Ghost's Eyes

The bond's still humming under Rona's skin when she hears boots crunching gravel behind her.

"Rona!" Dax's voice. Close. Too close.

She's crouched in the rubble behind the blown transformer, hand pressed to the concrete like she's holding herself upright. The blood on her palm is dry now. Cold. Mom's last memory is still sitting in her chest like a swallowed stone. Dad was there. Right there. And Mom was scared.

She shoves to her feet. Her knee pops. The bond flickers, tugging west.

"Rona, you good?" Dax is twenty meters out, rifle up, scanning the tree line. He hasn't seen her yet.

She could call back. She could fall in. Go back to the perimeter, let Dad's team tighten the net, let them put three rounds in Ghost's spine and close the file. That's the play. That's always been the play.

But the bond says Ghost is still moving. And the bond doesn't lie.

Rona ducks lower and goes the other way.

The dirt road splits a hundred meters past the transformer. Left goes back toward the highway, the lights, the trucks. Right drops into the industrial zone—