We The Forlorn (Book #2) (Completed)

40. At Peace

Harsh sunlight broke into Bo's hazy dreams of knives and blood. Her body protested the interruption, wanting to return to the comfort of sleep, but the light poured in from somewhere to wash her eyelids in orange fury. She groaned and rolled onto her side, pulling the blanket over her head, before yelping in pain as her side protested.

Eyes flying open, she looked down to see a white bandage wrapping her torso, tinged with blood. She remembered the knife then, and the sight of Clayton splattered on the ground. But it looked like she'd dodged death once again.

Gingerly supporting her injury with one hand, she edged up onto her elbows to look around. She was down in the hold of the airship, in one of the bedrooms. Her clothes lay on a chair and her guns were hung on the back of the door. Her eyes traveled the room until they landed on Adam, sitting in a chair by her side, his head tilted forward on his chest and his eyes closed.

She could still see the bruises on his face and peeking out from under the collar of his white t-shirt. He looked a mess, but she was glad to have him by her side when she woke up. She knew he must have been worried sick.

"Adam," she whispered, nudging the hand that lay gently on the edge of her bed. "Adam."

He stirred at the sound of his name, and then suddenly jerked awake. His eyes drank her in, his hands rushing to grab hers.

"Bo!" he said, breathless. He raised one hand to run across his forehead and then nearly tipped over onto the bed. "I was so worried."

Bo laughed. "How many times do I have to tell you that I'm good at surviving?" she asked, grinning. "I survived the alien's chemical bombs, electrocution, and a gunshot. You think a pesky thing like a knife is going to take me down?"

"I didn't know what to think," he said, and she realized just how drained he looked. His skin was ashen and his hands shook.

"You shouldn't be sitting up," she said, bossy. "You've got broken ribs and probably haven't eaten or slept since I passed out."

Adam looked at her. "Food didn't seem important when you were in surgery."

"Surgery?" Bo raised her eyebrows. "Something tells me there's a story here."

"Yes, I suppose it's a story."

"Well, come on. Don't sit all the way over there." Bo held up the covers for him, and scooted as much as her wound would allow her, to one side of the bed. Adam eyed the mattress, hesitant at first, but either his wounds or Bo's outstretched arms finally convinced him to kick off his boots and curl on at her side. Bo lifted her head to let him place his arm under it, and she pressed in close. He rested his chin on the top of her head as she wrapped an arm around his waist and closed her eyes.

"Feel free to proceed," she said.

Adam exhaled a laugh, and then began. "After you passed out, we knew we couldn't keep going. You were bleeding so badly, we would never make it back to the others without you dying first. I told Khan to turn the ship around and go back to the base."

"Adam!" Bo said, raising her head.

"I'd rather be captured again then lose you," he said. "But we had a feeling that Aston and Clayton being dead might change things. And it did."

Bo frowned. "What do you mean?"

Adam pressed gently on her arm, guiding her back to lay down. "At first, of course, they almost blew us out of the sky. But Helga had made sure we stopped and picked up Clayton's body before going back into the base. Once we showed that to them, they were a little less intent on shooting us. When we then asked them for a few minutes to go and get Aston's body, they let us go under armed guard. But once we showed them that he was dead as well, they practically dropped their guns right there."

"They gave up?" Bo asked. It was hard to imagine the hardened militia surrendering. The men and women she'd associated with the militia had always been as cold as steel and about as likely of showing mercy as grass was to grow out of the orange dust.

Except the soldier that had led them to Adam, she told herself.

"What Clayton and Aston didn't realize is that fear and drilling may have gotten them a hardened army... for as long as they were there to keep the order. Without the whips, the army has no reason to keep fighting. At least, not this lot. They were almost laughing in relief. I think half of them deserted as soon as they found out the news, and the other half only stayed to get better supplied."

"So they let you stay?" Bo asked.

Adam nodded. "We asked one of their surgeons to stay for a few hours more and help you. He managed to convince a team to help, and they operated on your wound for about half a day."

"Half a day! How long have I been asleep?"

Adam squinted his eyes. "Two days?"

"Two days!"

"Well, you were stabbed through the side and bleeding profusely," Adam said.

Bo snorted. "That's nothing."

"Sure," Adam said. "Just make sure to thank Helga for all the blood she donated."

Bo's mouth popped open. "Helga donated blood?"

"She and Khan were the only matches, but Khan didn't have much to spare," Adam replied.

"I think I'd rather have Helga's blood in me than Khan's. He'd never let me forget."

Adam laughed. "I don't think Helga will either."

Bo sighed heavily and snuggled in against Adam's side. "I'm just glad we're all still alive."

"Me too." Adam kissed her forehead, tracing her temple and jaw line with one hand.

Bo bit her lip, staring out the window where all she saw was the dust fields moving by. The airship was headed somewhere, but she couldn't bring herself to care very much at the moment. She just wanted to live for a moment without thinking about the next step. "It's a miracle the militia stood down when they realized Clayton was gone."

Adam nodded. "We can only hope the rest of the militia will be as eager to return to their homes."

"Let's stop talking now. We finally have a moment of peace, so let's make use of it." She closed her eyes, feeling Adam's chest move her arm up and down. She felt his heartbeat through his ribs against her cheek, and she flopped one leg over his. He wrapped his arm around her waist, his biceps flexing under her head. His skin still gave off the slightest electricity, but it by now it was more of a warmth than anything else. Like a comfortable shushing of an ocean. Before she knew it, Bo was slipping into sleep. Adam's gentle breathing was her companion as her mind let go, for the first time in so long. She could sleep and dream, and be at peace.