The Final Storm

27. Refugees?

"Strange..."

At the sound of the familiar voice beside her, Adaira glanced over at the captain of her heart and soul—then her gaze slid down to where their hands were joined, and one corner of her mouth curled up. "What's strange? The fact that my brother hasn't tried to eviscerate you for holding my hand yet?"

"Huh? Well, yes, that, too." He rubbed his chin. "But what's really strange is this." He pointed at one of many footprints on the dirty floor. It was already half-obscured by the tracks of various small animals and bits of muck. "This footprint isn't entirely new. And what's more..." His finger moved to point at another set of footprints not far away. "These are far too regular, and there are a lot of them. As if they don't belong to a scattered group of refugees, but to a sizable troop of professional soldiers."

Adaira frowned. "But didn't you say that that footprint earlier didn't belong to a military boot?"

"It didn't. These don't, either."

"So you, what, think that one or two refugees magically turned into a whole troop of soldiers? You're not making any sense!"

"I usually don't. Normally, I consider it part of my charm, but right now..." He tugged on the little speck of a beard on his chin, still intently focused on the footprints. "I don't know what to make of this."

"Should we tell my brother?" Adaira enquired.

"You there!" came a certain icy voice from ahead the moment she had finished speaking. "Stop muttering and get a move on!"

"Somehow," Captain Carter murmured wryly, "I don't think your brother is particularly willing to listen to me."

Adaira felt one of her eyelids twitch.

"Well, he'd bloody well better listen to me!" Striding forward, she quickly made her way towards her brother and opened her mouth to say something—but before she could, she saw her brother crouch down and examine the ground. Frowning, Adaira sped up.

"What's the matter, Rick?"

"There are suddenly more footprints on the floor. And they don't belong to refugees."

"We noticed."

"Did you also notice that they are changing direction?" He pointed down a tunnel to the left. "They're going down this tunnel."

"And?" Adaira cocked her head. "What's so strange about that?"

"That tunnel doesn't lead out of the city. It leads straight towards the military district."

Adaira froze. What the...? Why would refugees be heading to the military district?

They wouldn't, a small voice at the back of her mind whispered. Not unless they aren't refugees.

Then again, even if they weren't refugees, so what? It wasn't like this had anything to do with the five of them, was it?

Her brother seemed to have come to the same conclusion. Rising to his feet, he ignored the footprints and gestured down the same tunnel all of them had been heading down before.

"Let's go. We've wasted enough time here."

"All right." Adaira nodded and was about to follow her brother—only to hesitate when she saw a flash of something out of the corner of her eye.

"Get down!"

Captain Carter's shout was all the warning she got.

Boom!

In the confines of the tunnel, the simple gunshot sounded like a thunderous explosion. Adaira felt something whip dangerously close past her face. A moment later, a hard, muscled figure rammed into her and she found herself on the dirty floor with Captain James Carter on top of her.