And then Elle saw that it wasn’t a dog. It was a man.
She had never seen anyone in Los Angeles in this condition. He was stooped low, his hair was frayed and mottled with dried blood. His eyes held a feverish glaze as he stared at Elle and Bravo. She stood there, unmoving, looking at the misshapen man. He was terrifying. His face had been burned, one eye looked like it had been slashed out.
“What do you want?” Elle asked.
She felt a bolt of regret. She knew in that instant that no matter what she said or what she did, she would not be able to leave this place without dealing with the man. She couldn’t run, she couldn’t pretend he wasn’t there. He was now a threat, and Elle knew of only one way to deal with threats.
The man said nothing. He just stopped, slowing and watching the girl and the dog. And then, quicker than Elle could blink, he was running toward them. He sprinted with a manic energy, bolting across the open space that separated them. Elle was horrified. Her instincts held true, though, and she braced herself for his approach.
She drew the katana backward, prepared to swipe it through the air and kill the man if needed. Bravo barked louder, this time with menace. He ran forward and met the man halfway, striking like a bullet. His jaws sank into the man’s arm and he slammed him against the ground.
The man screamed. It was a raspy, desperate voice — it hardly sounded human. He grappled with the dog but Bravo was too strong. He tore into the man until he lie on the ground in a trembling, bloody heap.
“Bravo, stop!” Elle yelled. “Leave him!”
The dog paused, looked at Elle through eyes veiled with carnal instinct and military training. He pulled away from the man. Elle walked closer, studying him. Bravo hadn’t done more than tear his arm up — the rest of his body had been damaged by something else.
“What do you want?” Elle asked again.
The man looked up, shaking. Tears streamed down his wrinkled face.
“To die,” he whispered. “I want to die.”
Elle swallowed a lump in her throat.
“Who did this to you?” she asked.
He gazed straight through her, glassy-eyed. He went still.
Elle exhaled, looking at Bravo.
“You don’t mess around, dog,” she remarked. “You don’t trust anyone.” She cocked her head. “You and I might get along.”
Bravo stepped farther away from the now-dead man.
I get things done, he seemed to say. It’s my job.
Elle looked back at the man. She wondered what had happened to him. Why had he been wandering alone in the desert, burned and mutilated, left to die like a wounded animal? Had it been Omega? Had it been the Slavers?
She sighed. She would never know.
“Let’s go back,” Elle muttered.
She turned, and when she looked at Bravo, he followed her as if he understood every word she said.
The soldier named Nathan died that night.
Bravo let out a mournful howl. His master was dead. Elle buried Nathan. She found a rusty shovel in a pile of old mining equipment and dug a hole. She dug until her hands were covered in blisters and sweat stuck her clothes to her skin. She dragged his body into the hole and covered him with dirt. Bravo watched the entire thing with a baleful expression, whimpering and whining.
Elle used her katana to scrape letters into the side of the little cabin.
She didn’t know what else to say. Somehow, she thought that he’d appreciate the fact that his dog had stayed by his side until the end.
“Come on,” Elle said, sheathing the sword. “You’re with me now, Bravo.”
The desert was unforgiving. Elle was determined to beat it. Bravo trotted slowly beside her. Elle wrapped a thick scarf around her face. She had taken it from the dead man’s pack. It helped protect her skin from the gritty dust and sand.
“We’ve got a long walk, dog,” Elle said.
Bravo looked at her. Nothing new to me, he seemed to say.
“You up for it?” she asked.
Well, what else am I going to do, human?
She nodded.
“Okay, then,” she said. “Let’s do this.”
Part Two: The Slavers
Chapter Seven
San Jacinto National Park — Slaver Territory
Elle ran quickly and quietly, dodging boulders and making her way through the pine trees. The smell of sugar pine and cedar was strong. The morning was crisp and silent. Elle was little more than a shadow, sprinting through the forest. And beside her, Bravo ran, too. He was quieter than Elle, his hunter’s instincts making him fast and alert.
Elle’s heart raced.
There was no stopping now.
There were no more options. This was the last resort.
48 Hours Earlier
Mount San Jacinto State Park. The sign was in good condition, standing amidst a backdrop of blue skies and mountain ridges. Elle touched the sign with the tip of her finger, just to make sure it was real. She was exhausted. Her feet hurt, her body ached. She was hungry. Days of rationing protein bars and water bottles had taken its toll. Her head throbbed and her lips were cracked.
She looked at Bravo.
Let’s get this over with, he said. You and me. This is our thing now.
“At least we know we’re in the right place,” Elle replied.
There was a gold star painted on the sign, but this time, the star was different. It was inside a circle. Elle figured it meant that they had arrived.
Hello, Slaver Territory.
This place has too many smells. Bravo shook his head, focusing his dark eyes on the horizon. Hang on. I’ve got something different.
Elle watched him. She knew what he was thinking just by looking at him. She’d learned to read his thoughts over the last few days, during the long, thankless trek across the open desert and the exhausting climb up the mountains. There were still many mysteries about this dog, but she liked to think she was slowly forming a bond with him.
Slowly, but surely.
“We should rest,” Elle said aloud. It was early morning and the temperature was frigid. The sunlight was unfiltered and bright. She squinted her eyes and returned her gaze to Bravo.
“You’re right,” she sighed. “We can’t rest. We’ve got to keep going.”
Well, I didn’t come all this way for nothing, girl, Bravo snorted.
“Don’t give me that look,” Elle complained. “I’m tired enough.”
Then let’s go!
“Fine.”
Good girl.
So that’s what they did. They kept moving, weaving through the mountain trails. It was an interesting kind of mountain range, a mix of desert and lush forest. There were pine trees and cedars, but there was also dry brush and open patches of dirt. From their vantage point on the side of the mountain, Elle and Bravo could see the desert floor far below.
“I can’t believe we walked that far,” Elle muttered.
Bravo tucked his head and trotted faster, pulling ahead of Elle.
“You’re a show-off, dog,” Elle said.
Bravo tilted his head, suddenly tensing.
I smell people.
Elle stared at him. He turned on his heel and began moving forward, silently creeping through the underbrush, threading his way through the maze of trees. The shade in the forest was chilly. Elle struggled to keep pace with Bravo. Her feet felt like blocks of cement.