Success of the Broken Banner

Chapter 9: Confessions

"Amelia's safe," Kilo's voice drifted lazily through the cab, sunlight dancing across my eyelids as I stirred from sleep. A dull throb echoed through my skull. "You don't have to babysit her when she's out cold between us in a truck doing ninety."

"You didn't see what I saw, Kilo," Echo murmured, thinking he could keep me sleeping. Newsflash: Kilo had already blown that. Groaning, I sat up, shielding my eyes from the harsh sunlight that only made my pounding headache worse.

"Where are we?" I rasped, rubbing at my gritty eyes as I took in our surroundings. Echo jerked his chin toward the distance, and a highway sign glowed like an oasis on the horizon. "Welcome to Missouri."

"How long was I out?" I asked, having lost all sense of time. Echo just shook his head, a wide grin splitting his face. "It's not how long you slept, it's Kilo behind the wheel." Beside me, Kilo shot him a side-eye.

"Do you want to reach our destination or not?" he retorted.

"I'd prefer we arrive in one piece," I fired back, sinking against the seat once more and closing my eyes. Kilo let out a genuine laugh, tapping out a rhythm on the wheel.

"You should've signed a waiver before getting in," he teased. My lips twitched upward despite myself, my head still thumping. God, I'd missed these two.

Kilo's voice cut through the haze of my exhaustion, "How are you feeling, kid?" His gaze flicked towards me in the rearview mirror, a furrowed brow his only sign of concern before refocusing on the endless stretch of asphalt ahead.

My answer came without hesitation, "Like garbage." The words tasted bitter on my tongue, a stark reflection of the turmoil churning in my stomach.

I couldn't meet his eye, instead finding myself captivated by the blur of emerald fields beyond Echo's window. My gaze kept drifting back to him, though – the sharp line of his jaw, the way his dark hair curled slightly at the nape of his neck. It was a welcome distraction from the rolling nausea threatening to overwhelm me.

A low chuckle rumbled from the drivers seat, "You look like it, too." Kilo's attempt at levity was a thin veil, but I appreciated the effort. My laugh came out a shaky hum, lips pressed together to combat the queasiness roiling inside me.

The sun's piercing rays knifed through the clouds, laying bare the interior of the truck. My eyelids drooped, weighted by the sudden warmth. With a sigh, I surrendered to the exhaustion pulling me under, resting my head against Echo's shoulder. His body tensed momentarily, then relaxed, his slow breathing suggesting the contact brought him an unexpected solace.

"We need to find a place to lay low," Kilo's voice cut through the haze, "get you fixed up."

In that moment, I lacked the energy to muster even a token protest. My head throbbed in time with my pulse, a relentless drumbeat that threatened to shatter my fragile equilibrium. Yet, even that couldn't dim the swell of gratitude welling up inside me. They'd come back. They'd found me, pulled me from the jaws of that vicious hellhole before I'd lost myself completely to its unforgiving vastness.

A small, cracked smile tugged at the corner of my mouth, a silent promise to myself as much as to them. I'd get my strength back. I'd rebuild. Because for the first time in what felt like an eternity, a glimmer of hope had sparked to life within me. And this time, I was determined not to let it flicker out.

Kilo's sharp eyes scanned the endless green fields, his gaze finally landing on a solitary house in the distance. With a quiet sigh of relief, he shifted the truck into park. "Stay here," he told us, his hand on the door handle. Echo nodded, his eyes fixed on me as Kilo slipped out of the truck.