Chapter Text
The fire had burned low sometime in the night, leaving only a dull red glow beneath a scatter of ash. By morning, even that was gone. The camp sat tucked into a shallow bend of the land, where a thin stream curved through a stand of trees and slipped quietly over smooth stone. The water moved steady and soft, just loud enough to cover small sounds, quiet enough to let the world beyond still be heard if you listened for it. Rocks had been pulled into a loose circle around the fire pit, not perfect, but enough to break the wind and hide the light. Branches and fallen limbs had been dragged in to form a kind of barrier, natural enough not to draw the eye, but deliberate if you knew what to look for. They had chosen the place carefully. And they had stayed longer than they meant to.
Alan stood near the edge of the stream, one boot braced on a flat stone as he rinsed his hands in the cold water. The chill didn’t seem to register. His gaze was fixed somewhere beyond the trees, unfocused, like he was still seeing something that wasn’t there anymore. The city had been behind them for days now. But it hadn’t left him.
Behind him, Pete shifted on the ground, leaning back against one of the larger stones, a tin cup resting loose in his hand. He watched Alan for a while without saying anything, then tipped the cup back and finished what was left before setting it down beside him.
“You keep starin’ like that,” Pete said finally, his voice easy but quiet, “you’re gonna wear a hole right through the horizon.”
Alan didn’t answer. He dried his hands slowly on a cloth, buying himself time he didn’t really need. When he finally spoke, his voice came low and thoughtful.
“Just thinking.”
Pete let out a soft breath that might have been a laugh, though it didn’t carry much humor. “Yeah. Been a lot of that goin’ around.”
Across from them, Galen sat near the remnants of the fire, a thin strip of wood turning slowly between his fingers. He hadn’t shaped it into anything, hadn’t tried to, just rubbed at the surface now and then, picking lightly at the rough edges as if it gave his hands something to do while his thoughts were elsewhere. His gaze lifted from time to time, drifting toward the others or out across the land, never lingering long before settling back again.
After a moment, he glanced up, his eyes moving between the two men before lowering again, the strip of wood turning absently in his hands.
“Thinking about it isn’t the problem,” he said quietly. “It’s the trouble that may come with it.”
Pete huffed under his breath. “That’s one thing we don’t lack… trouble. How would it be to just find a cozy little spot to settle down and do nothin’? No worries about gorillas chasing after us, no scientists wanting to scramble our brains.” A sudden flash of his encounter with the scientist Wanda made him shudder.
Alan, didn’t seem to be paying attention. He straightened, stepping back from the stream. His eyes drifted toward the far side of the camp, where Noni sat just beyond the ring of stones, her back resting lightly against the trunk of a tree. One hand moved idly through the grass at her side, fingers brushing the blades as if she were feeling something in them, not just the texture, but something deeper.
She’d been quiet that morning. More than usual. Alan watched her a moment longer than he meant to, then looked away.
“We can’t stay here,” he said at last, turning back toward Pete and Galen. “Not much longer.”
Pete nodded once, like he’d been expecting it. “Figured you’d say that.”
Galen lifted his gaze again. “You have somewhere in mind?”
Alan hesitated, just for a second. “Soran and Gemma’s.”
The name hung there a moment, like something solid to hold onto.
Pete shifted forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “Not a bad place to lay low. They offered to let us stay before we left. Bet the offer’s still open.”
“Maybe,” Alan said.
That one word hung there longer than it should have.
Pete’s attention shifted fully back to him. “Something on your mind?”
Alan’s jaw tightened slightly, his gaze dropping to the ground between them before lifting again.
“There’s still Urko… and that garrison in Shrielac,” he said. “We could be putting Soran and Gemma in danger again.”
Pete frowned. “Then we stay out of sight.”
“We could,” Alan replied, though something in his tone didn’t quite settle.
For a moment, no one spoke.
Galen set the small piece of wood aside, his full attention now on Alan. “I could go into Shrielac. Speak with Menara. She may be able to help.”
Alan exhaled slowly. “That might be a good idea. If Soran could get word to her… but I’m not sure we should let her know we’re back. Not until we have an idea about what we’re going to do.”
It wasn’t just Urko or the garrison in Shrielac he was worried about, it was her… and whatever had changed. His eyes moved again, almost without thinking, back toward Noni.
“She’s different now,” he said quietly. “More than before.”
Pete followed his gaze, his expression softening just a fraction as he watched her. “Yeah,” he said. “She is. I‘m not sure finding her people was such a good thing. It changed her.”
Alan’s voice dropped lower. “Her people… they felt her before. From a distance.”
Galen nodded slowly. “I Know.”
“If we go back,” Alan continued, “and she’s anywhere near them… I don’t know if they’ll sense her again. We don’t know how far that reach goes. Especially now that she can do the same thing.”
Pete’s brow furrowed. “You think they’d come looking for her?”
“I think,” Alan said carefully, “we don’t know enough to say they wouldn’t.”
Across the clearing, Noni’s hand stilled in the grass.
She didn’t look at them right away. But something in her posture shifted, subtle, almost imperceptible. Like she had felt the weight of the conversation before hearing it. Then, slowly, she lifted her head, her eyes found Alan first, there was no question in them, only quiet understanding.
She pushed herself to her feet, brushing her hands lightly against her skirt, and stepped toward the others, her movements unhurried but certain. When she reached the edge of the fire ring, she paused, looking between them before her gaze settled back on Alan.
‘You are thinking of not going back now.’ she signed, her hands steady, her expression calm.
Alan held her gaze. “I’m thinking of keeping you safe.”
Something softened in her eyes, but it didn’t change the set of her shoulders.
‘They are not my people,’ she signed after a moment. ‘I no longer belong to them.’
The words came without hesitation, but there was something underneath them. Not doubt… not quite, something more complicated.
Pete shifted slightly, glancing between them. “Noni…”
She lifted one hand just a little, not cutting him off, just asking for a moment. Her eyes stayed on Alan.
‘Soran and Gemma are good,’ she continued. ‘They helped us. They gave us peace when we needed it.’
Her hands slowed, just slightly. ‘We need that again.’
Alan didn’t answer right away, the sound of the stream filled the space between them, steady and constant.
Galen watched them both, his expression thoughtful, something deeper moving behind his eyes as he considered not just the words, but what lay beneath them.
Pete let out a slow breath. “She’s right, you know.”
Alan glanced at him.
Pete shrugged lightly. “We’ve been sittin’ out here over a week, goin’ in circles. At some point, we gotta move forward. And right now, that’s the closest thing we’ve got to a place that ain’t tryin’ to kill us.”
Alan looked back at Noni. She didn’t look away, didn’t push, didn’t plead., she just stood there, steady as the ground beneath them, waiting.
The decision settled slowly, not like a sudden shift, but like something that had already been made and was only just now catching up to him.
Alan drew in a breath, then let it out.
“Alright, We go back,” he said finally.
Pete nodded once. “Then it’s settled.”
Galen inclined his head slightly, accepting it.
Noni’s shoulders eased, just enough to see it if you were looking. Alan’s gaze lingered on her a moment longer.
“Stay close,” he added quietly.
She gave a small nod. ‘Always.’
The fire would be rebuilt. The camp packed. The path chosen. But for a moment longer, they stood where they were, the sound of the water moving past them, the trees holding their silence, and the weight of what lay ahead settling in beside them, not heavy, not light… just there. Waiting to be walked into.
~*~*~*~*~
The next night, the last of the light had slipped behind the rock long before they stopped moving. They hadn’t spoken much after the patrol passed without spotting them. The sound of it still lingered in the back of their minds, the heavy movement through brush, the low guttural voices, the crack of branches underweight that didn’t try to hide itself. They had been too close. Close enough that Alan could still feel it in his chest, the instinct to run held tight under control until there was no choice left but to move. Now they were still.
The place they had found was half hidden along the side of a broken rise, where the rock folded in on itself and formed a shallow recess just deep enough to disappear into if you didn’t know where to look. From the outside it was nothing more than shadow and stone, but inside it opened enough to give them cover from sight and wind both. A narrow ledge curved along the back wall, worn smooth with age, and just beyond it the land dropped away into a scatter of boulders and scrub below. The kind of place you passed without seeing. Pete had settled near the entrance, keeping watch without making it look like he was. Galen sat a little farther in, his posture quiet but alert, his eyes occasionally lifting toward the dark beyond the opening. Alan had moved deeper inside at first, more out of habit than thought, but his attention hadn’t stayed there. It had drifted…to her.
Noni stood near the edge of the rock, just outside the shelter of the overhang where the last of the evening light still clung to the stone. The sky above had deepened into that quiet blue just before full dark, the first stars beginning to show through in scattered points. The land stretched out below them in shadow and pale silver, the shapes of rock and brush softened by distance. She hadn’t moved for a while, standing still with one hand resting low against her stomach, her fingers curled slightly as if holding herself steady, her gaze fixed somewhere beyond what could be seen. She wasn’t watching, she was feeling.
Alan studied her for a moment, then pushed himself away from the wall and crossed the short distance between them, his steps quiet against the rock. He stopped just behind her, close enough to reach her, close enough to feel the pull of it. For a second, he almost did, his hand lifting slightly, instinct more than thought, the urge to steady her, to pull her back from wherever her mind had gone, to give her something solid to hold onto, but he didn’t.
Galen and Pete were only a few feet away, not watching, not directly, but present enough. The weight of everything he’d read, everything he still hadn’t said, held him where he was for a moment before he moved. Quieter than the thought that had stopped him, he reached out, his hand settling lightly on her shoulder, just enough to ground her, to let her know he was there.
“Noni,” he said softly.
She didn’t startle or turn right away.
“I know you’re out there,” he added, his voice low.
Slowly, she turned her head, her eyes finding his in the dim light. There was something in them that hadn’t been there before, deeper, farther away, like she was still listening to something he couldn’t hear.
“What is it?” he asked. “Something’s bothering you, isn’t it?”
Her gaze held his for a moment longer before she nodded, just slightly.
‘Something is wrong,’ she signed, her movements slower than usual, more deliberate. ‘Something I…’
She faltered, just briefly.
Alan glanced out over the darkened land, then back to her. “Your people?”
She hesitated, then shook her head.
‘No,’ she signed. ‘Not the same.’
He watched her hands, then her face. “Someone like you?”
Her brow drew together just a little, searching for the right way to explain something that didn’t quite have words.
‘No,’ she signed again, more certain this time. ‘I do not know what it is… only that it is bad.’
The wind shifted slightly along the rock, carrying the faint scent of dry grass and dust up from below.
Alan’s jaw tightened. “That doesn’t exactly make me feel better.”
There was the faintest shift in her expression, not quite reassurance, but something steadier, more resolved.
‘It is not the same,’ she signed gently.
He met her eyes.
She stepped a fraction closer, just enough to close the space between them without making it obvious.
‘I do not understand it,’ she continued. ‘And I am frightened.’
The admission lingered between them, quieter than her earlier certainty, but heavier for it. It wasn’t the kind of fear that came from something seen or known. It was deeper than that. The kind that settled in without shape or reason, and refused to be pushed aside.
Something in his expression softened the strain he’d been holding loosening as he looked at her. He didn’t look away this time. He held her gaze, not trying to move past what she was feeling, just meeting it, steady and present.
“It might not be anything at all,” he said quietly, his voice low, even, meant more to steady than to convince. “We’ve been pushing hard, staying ahead of things, getting closer to somewhere that feels… different.”
His eyes drifted past her for a moment, out over the dark stretch of land, then back again.
“Could be that’s all this is,” he added. “Just everything catching up at once.”
He let the words settle between them, not pressing them, not asking her to believe them, just offering them for what they were.
“You’ve been carrying a lot,” he said after a moment, softer now. “A lot of changes.”
His hand lifted before he thought better of it, instinct more than decision, he gently cupped her face, his thumb brushing lightly along her cheek.
“Don’t worry,” he said quietly. “We’ll be alright.”
He held there a second longer, just long enough for it to mean something before he let his hand ease back.
“It doesn’t mean you’re wrong,” he continued. “It just means you’re being careful.”
Her gaze held his, searching in a way that wasn’t looking for answers so much as grounding. Slowly, something in her expression eased, not gone, but quieter than it had been before. For a moment, neither of them moved.
The space between them felt smaller now, though neither had stepped any closer. The pull was there all the same, quiet but unmistakable, and neither of them turned away from it. Alan felt it, didn’t deny it, but the weight of the letter still lingered in the back of his mind, everything he had read, everything it had taken from him, and everything it had left behind… a kind of emptiness he hadn’t yet found a way to face. He held where he was, caught somewhere between what he was feeling and what he was still trying to understand.
The night pressed in around the edges, the wind shifting softly along the rock, carrying with it the faint scent of dry earth and distance.
His fingers brushed her cheek again, light and careful, the touch gentle, unhurried. For a moment, he let it rest there, as if grounding himself as much as her. Then something in him caught, just enough to make him aware of how close he was to letting it go further. His hand stilled, then drifted down, his fingers brushing lightly against her arm before he let it fall away again, more deliberately this time.
The moment lingered after it passed, not broken, just settling into something unspoken between them. Something had shifted, not all at once, not in any way that could be named, but enough to be felt. Whatever distance had been there before had begun to loosen its hold… even as he held himself just short of it.
Behind them, Pete shifted his weight, and Galen’s quiet presence remained steady, both of them giving space without making it known.
“Get some rest,” Alan said at last, his voice low. “We’ve still got a long way to go.”
Her eyes drifted back out over the land, toward whatever it was she could feel waiting out there in the dark, then she nodded.
‘I will,’ she signed softly.
Alan lingered a moment longer, then stepped back, giving her the space she seemed to need, even if every instinct in him said to do the opposite. Above them, the stars had come fully into view. Below, the land stretched on, quiet and waiting.
He drew in a breath, then turned toward the others, the shift subtle but deliberate, grounding himself in something practical.
Pete glanced up as he approached, one brow lifting slightly. “She alright?”
Alan nodded. “She says something’s out there… but she can’t put her finger on it.”
Pete frowned, considering that. “Something out there?”
Alan gave a slight nod. “Yeah. She can feel it… just not what it is.”
Pete let out a slow breath, his gaze fixed out past the rocks. “I don’t like the sound of that.”
Galen looked up, his gaze flicking toward Noni before settling back on Alan. “I agree, it sounds like trouble,” he said quietly.
Pete glanced at him. “I’ve seen too much with her people not to trust her feelings. We better be a lot more cautious for a while.”
Galen’s mouth twitched faintly. “Yes,” he agreed. “Much more.”
Alan lowered himself onto the rock near the fire, resting his forearms loosely on his knees, his gaze dropping for a moment before lifting again toward the edge of the camp, where Noni still stood.
“We break camp at first light,” he said, turning back to them. “Stay off the open ground as much as we can. If there’s another patrol out there, I don’t want to run into it by accident.”
Pete nodded. “Works for me.”
Galen inclined his head in agreement, his gaze drifting back toward the fire as he settled into stillness again, though his attention was only partly on it now.
The fire burned low, more glow than flame, just enough to keep the chill from settling in too deep. Overhead, the stars stretched wide and clear, unbroken by anything but the slow drift of thin cloud far to the west.
~*~*~*~*~
Morning came early. Not with light at first, but with the cold easing just enough to wake them. The fire had burned down to a faint glow, little more than warmth held in the stones. Alan stirred first, more out of habit than rest, his eyes opening to the pale gray just beginning to edge the horizon. Breakfast had been nothing more than opers, it wasn’t filling but it took the edge off. By the time the sun crested the rocks, they were already moving.
They kept to the rock as much as they could. The land opened and closed in uneven stretches, narrow cuts between stone, shallow rises that broke sightlines, patches of scrub and scattered trees clinging where they could. From a distance it might have looked empty. Up close, it was anything but. Every step had to be chosen. Every turn watched. They spoke little, when they did, it was low, brief, nothing that carried.
By midmorning, the sun had climbed high enough to warm the stone underfoot, though the air still held a lingering coolness in the shadows. They had been moving steadily for hours, keeping to the higher ground where they could see ahead, dropping lower only when the terrain forced it.
Noni had been quiet. Not unusually so, she often was, but there was something different in it now. A stillness that didn’t quite settle. Her gaze moved more often, not just ahead, but outward, as if she were listening for something that wasn’t sound.
Pete noticed it first. He had fallen back a step or two behind her without meaning to, his eyes more on the ground than ahead, watching where he placed his feet. It was a small thing that caught his attention, her hand. It wasn’t still. A slight tremor, just at the edge of movement, her fingers curling in against her palm, then easing again, like she was trying to stop it and couldn’t quite manage.
Pete frowned, “Noni,” he said, low, just enough for her to hear.
She didn’t answer right away. Her shoulders had drawn in slightly, her breath not quite as steady as it had been. One hand had come up, resting low against her stomach again, her fingers pressing there as if holding something in place.
Pete stepped closer. “Hey…”
Alan turned at the sound of it, his eyes going first to Pete, then to her. He didn’t ask . He didn’t need to. He could see it.
“Noni?” he said, quieter now, already moving toward her.
She turned her head slowly, her eyes finding his, and for a moment there was something in them that hadn’t been there before. Not distance this time, not quiet focus, something tighter. Her hands lifted, slower than usual, not from hesitation, but from the effort of holding steady.
‘I feel it again,’ she signed.
Her fingers faltered just slightly, then steadied.
‘Stronger.’
The wind shifted across the rocks, dry and warm now, carrying nothing with it but dust and the faint scent of sun-heated stone. Alan’s jaw tightened.
“Where?” he asked.
Noni didn’t answer right away. Her gaze moved past them, out over the broken land ahead, then off to the side, as if whatever it was didn’t stay in one place long enough to follow.
‘I do not know,’ she signed. ‘It is…’
Her hands paused, searching. ‘Closer.’
Pete’s expression hardened slightly, his eyes already moving over the terrain, scanning without turning his head too much.
“I don’t like it,” he muttered, quieter now, more to himself than anyone else.
Galen had stopped as well, his posture shifting just enough to show the change. His gaze followed Noni’s without fully understanding what she was seeing, but trusting that it was there.
Alan didn’t take his eyes off her. “How close?” he asked.
Noni didn’t answer. Her hand tightened, and she stepped closer to Pete, close enough that her shoulder nearly brushed his. The fear in her eyes told it all, sharper now, no longer uncertain but real. Then it came.
From behind the rocks, the sound broke across the stillness without warning, not rising or building, but striking all at once with a sharpness that cut through everything around them. It wasn’t a cry of fear or panic, but something far more deliberate, a war cry that echoed off the stone and carried farther than it should have.
Movement followed immediately after, men jumping out from behind rock and brush where they had been hidden well enough to go unseen until that moment. They came from more than one direction, spreading as they moved, closing the distance quickly and with purpose. There were enough of them that counting didn’t matter, ten at least, maybe more, and every one of them moved like they knew exactly what they were doing.
They were human, and there was nothing uncertain in the way they advanced. Nets hung ready in their hands, weighted and wide, others carried clubs worn smooth from use, and a few held guns low but prepared, not yet raised but clearly meant as a last measure if the rest failed. They didn’t rush blindly. They angled outward, fanning around them, cutting off every direction before anyone could make a move to break through.
Alan and Pete reacted at once, both of them moving without hesitation, instinct taking over before thought had time to catch up. Pete stepped back and to the side, his arm coming out just enough to push Noni behind him, placing himself squarely between her and the oncoming men. Alan mirrored the movement from the other side, closing the space and angling inward so that together they formed a barrier with her at the center, their backs not fully turned but positioned to keep her protected.
Galen moved in with them, stepping into place beside Alan, but even as they shifted, it was already clear that the ground had been taken from them. The men had spread too quickly, the terrain working against them as much as for them, rock rising unevenly to one side and broken ground falling away behind them, leaving no clear path to run without losing footing or being overtaken.
The first man reached them at speed, and Pete met him head on, his movement sharp and direct as his fist connected hard enough to turn the man’s head. It slowed him, but not enough, and another came in from the side almost immediately, forcing Pete to pivot and drive forward again, keeping them from getting close enough to throw what they carried.
Alan was already moving, stepping into the edge of a net before it could be cast wide. He caught it as it opened, yanking it off line and dragging the man with it, but the moment it took to do that left him exposed long enough for another to come in with a club. The swing came fast and low, and Alan turned into it, blocking with his forearm and pushing forward, trying to break through before the circle closed any tighter. It didn’t break.
There were too many of them, and they pressed in from all sides, tightening the space with every second that passed. Galen tried to hold the line alongside them, stepping in to keep one of the men back, but the response he received made it clear he was not their concern. One of them drove into him hard, shoving him backward, another striking across his shoulder with enough force to send him off balance. There was no attempt to restrain him, no effort to capture him, only a need to move him aside.
He caught himself, tried to step back in, but another shove forced him down, and by the time he regained his footing they had already pushed past him.
Then the pressure shifted, and the nets came into play in earnest. One opened wide and low, thrown with enough force to carry across the space between them. It caught Pete across the shoulder and arm, the weight dragging him sideways as he fought to tear it free before it tightened around him. Another followed toward Alan, forcing him to turn away from Noni to keep from being entangled himself.
That single moment was all it took. With Alan and Pete both engaged, the space behind them opened just enough for the others to break through. They moved without hesitation, slipping between the gaps with a precision that made their intent unmistakable. Their focus narrowed, not on Galen, not even on Alan or Pete anymore, but past them. On her.
It became clear in a way it hadn’t been only seconds before, as the last of any doubt fell away under the weight of what was happening. They were not trying to take all of them at once, and they were not interested in the ape at all. Every movement, every angle, every decision they made pointed to the same thing. They were going for Noni.
The shift was immediate. Two of the men broke from the tightening circle and came straight through the gap, not hesitating, not slowing, moving with a kind of practiced certainty that made it clear they had done this before. One of them swung wide, drawing Alan’s attention for just a fraction of a second, while the other came in low, the net already opening in his hands.
“Noni, run!” Pete snapped, his voice sharp as he drove forward to intercept, trying to break through the closing line, but the space was already too tight, the angles wrong, nowhere clear for her to go.
The net came fast, it struck her across the shoulders and arms, the weighted edges dropping and tangling before she had the chance to move more than a step. She staggered under the sudden pull, her hands lifting instinctively, trying to tear free, but the more she struggled, the tighter it drew around her.
Alan turned at the same instant, his hand reaching back toward her, fingers closing on empty air as the men yanked the net tight and pulled her off balance.
“Noni!” His voice broke through the noise, sharp and uncontrolled now.
She reached for him. It wasn’t a full movement, not even a step, just her hand lifting toward him, her fingers trembling as she tried to sign, tried to say something, but the words never came. The net tightened again, dragging her back, and her footing gave way beneath her.
Pete surged toward them, anger flashing hard and immediate. He drove into one of the men, knocking him sideways, but another stepped in just as quickly, a club catching Pete across the ribs hard enough to slow him. He didn’t go down, not yet, but the hit forced the air from him and broke his forward momentum just long enough.
“Get your hands off her!” he snapped, his voice rough as he tried to push through again.
Alan didn’t hold back. Whatever restraint had been there a moment before was gone. He drove straight toward her, grabbing for the net, catching a handful of it and pulling hard enough to drag one of the men forward with it. For a second it looked like it might give, like he might break it loose… Then another net came down over him. It dropped from above and behind, tangling across his shoulders and arms before he could turn fully into it. He twisted, fighting it, trying to tear through the weight and rope, but hands were already on him, pulling, forcing him down, dragging him back.
“Alan!” Pete’s voice cut across the chaos, but he was already being forced back himself, another blow catching him across the shoulder, then another, the press of bodies too much to push through alone.
Noni was pulled farther away, the men tightening their grip on the net, hauling her back toward the edge of the rocks. Her movements were smaller now, restricted, but her eyes never left them. There was fear there, yes, but something else as well, something that reached, even through the distance growing between them.
Galen tried to get back into it. He pushed himself forward, ignoring the pain from where he had been shoved aside, but the moment he stepped in, one of the men struck him again, harder this time, driving him back with enough force to send him stumbling. Another followed it with a shove that knocked him off his feet entirely. They didn’t stay on him. They didn’t need to.
By the time he forced himself back up, they were already moving away, their focus locked entirely on the three they had taken. Pete was forced to his knees under the weight of two men, his arms wrenched back as they bound him. Alan was still fighting, still trying to tear free, but the nets and numbers were too much, dragging him down, pinning him.
Noni was already beyond reach.
Galen stood there for only a second, his breath uneven, his eyes fixed on where they were taking them as the realization settled in fully. They had come for the humans. And they had them.