Page 324 of Immune

They brought lures.

They brought chemicals.

They knew where to place smoke.

They knew where Dakota might be taken if command panicked.

My stomach turns to iron when I say, “Someone handed them the damn map.”

No one argues.

The first Rot hits the outer garage fence hard enough to rattle the chain links. Then another joins it. And then four more. Their rotting bodies slam into the fence while they stumble toward the noise, but then their heads twitch when Dakota moves.

Honey and rain leak through the smoke, blood, blockers, and three new bonds. It’s too bright and alive and easy for someone who’s looking for it.

My Alpha surges to the front of my mind then.

Protect.

I plant my feet right beside her instead.

Xeon steps forward, frost and steel cutting through the bitter air. “Service lane. It keeps us out of the main smoke.”

Kaito nods once. “Fastest route to medical without crossing the yard.”

Dakota looks over at Xeon, then at the service lane. Then she nods. It’s not a bond, but it’s still trust, and that distinction lands heavy at our feet.

We move.

I take point because Dakota jerks her chin and gives the go-ahead. That’s the only reason. Ewan stays tight to her right while Kaito shadows her left. Xeon drifts just ahead, silent and sharp, checking corners before the rest of us reach them.

Dakota keeps pace, too. Her knee is far from perfect. I see it in the slight hitch she hides with speed and the way her jaw flexes every time she pivots too hard. But she’s not helpless. Not even close. That woman has more grit than sense, and God help me but I’d follow both into fire without a second thought.

A Rot lunges through a broken section of fence, and I shoot it once through the head. Dakota ducks under my arm before I can lower my rifle, driving her knife into another Rot’s eye socket. She tears the blade free, breath sharp, hair tucked under Maine’s hat, and throat marked and bloody and alive.

Ewan laughs once, bright and wild. “That’s my girl.”

Dakota points the knife at him. “Don’t even think of making it sound like you taught me that.”

“I’d never do such a thing,” he volleys, and I hear the lie in his voice.

Kaito kills the next Rot without comment and Xeon’s attention cuts toward the smoke ahead. Human movement, not dead.

He lifts one hand and we all come to a stop. A figure breaks from the chemical haze, wearing a Haven Ridge jacket and a gas mask. They spot us and freeze.

“Identify,” I bark.

They run.

Dakota bolts after them. Of course she does.

“Dakota!” Ewan shouts, but she doesn’t stop.

Kaito curses in a language I don’t even know and moves after her. I follow, rifle up and boots pounding over concrete. The runner dives toward the storage annex, fast but sloppy. Dakota is faster, bad knee or not. She catches them by a stack of crates, slamming her shoulder into their back and driving them down to the ground with a force that looks like it hurts.

The gas mask cracks against the ground and I reach them just as she rolls the bastard over.

Porter.