Chapter Thirty-Two
“It’s not a bad walk.” Harper stood in front of the group, looking determined and brave even as the sun pinked her face and the fire still raged in the depot. “The roof is intact, so we’ll have shelter from the sun.”
“And then what?” The sobbing woman sniffled the words.
“Then we wait for rescue,” the guard said. “We’ll be able to see the Incorporation coming from up there.”
“We’ll need some help here.” The man who’d tended to the woman with the mangled hand looked to Walsh.
The man had managed to stop her hand from bleeding, but from the way sweat slicked her pale face, it might have been kinder to let her bleed out.
I shifted toward the dead guard as the man with the broken glasses tried to wrangle the two children, and the man in the blue uniform argued for leav
