A Healer's War

Chapter 71 - Adaptation

Chapter 71: Adaptation

"My moss is wearing off," Rory said.

Khloe nodded, her arm draped over his shoulder.

With each heartbeat, new and numerous pains throbbed all over his body. Rory's punctured thumb burned most of all, getting worse with each step. But bad as he felt, Khloe looked worse. Limping, she grimaced as she leaned on him with a fixed jaw—with her moss wearing off, too. The gunshot to her leg must be excruciating now. Each painful step brought the plane a little closer, and in it was Jacklyn. She needed him. Right. Left. Right. Left.

"Khloe," Rory said, breathing heavily.

"Ya?"

"Ready to run?"

She whimpered but nodded, eyeing the open distance.

She's counting the steps.

"If things turn sideways," he started.

"Shut up."

"No, I want to say something. I-."

"I said, shut up." Her eyes dropped to his mouth and narrowed for a moment. She reached up and seized the back of his neck, pulling his lips down to hers. He stumbled mid-step. Her kiss was intoxicating, hungry, asking a million questions. As swiftly as it had come, she released him and pulled back. He blinked down at her as she smiled. "Me too. Okay?"

The plane's engines whined, and the aircraft lurched like someone had forgotten to take off the parking brake.

"Uh," Rory said and pointed. This wasn't part of the plan, not until they were aboard, at least.

The plane jolted again, but this time, it began rolling down the runway.

Rory's eyes widened. Jacklyn!

"Go!" Khloe shouted but then grabbed his arm. "Wait!"

A roar of outrage echoed over the clearing, and the towering fire wolf vanished from the corner of Rory's vision. Dawson sprinted after the plane, his massive sword in hand. Fire spread up his arms, burning holes in his fatigues and leaving a trail of thick smoke behind him. If Dawson was moving... He turned and spotted Caroline's thin form limping towards them.

What now? Rory's mind raced, but it shouted only one answer. Run.

He slipped from beneath Khloe's arm, wincing sympathetically as she sucked in a labored breath. "Get Caroline."

Unarmed, Rory's boots pounded down the dirt runway. Fear weighed on every muscle, willing him to stop, but a greater clarity allowed him to push through. Ahead of him, Dawson ran alongside the plane near the loading ramp just as the engines picked up speed. Rory gasped as the man punched a hole into the fuselage and tore the door from its hinges in two smooth motions. Dawson flung it aside, and it bounced to the side of the runway.

Just get to Jacklyn. Rory put his head down and opened up his stride, pushing everything he had into his wary legs.

It wasn't enough—the plane pulled away, shrinking as it hurtled toward the mountains in the distance.

No.