Thirteen
Grace yelped, instinctively pulling away from the touch. She thought, with certainty, that Khan must’ve left an AI here to kill her, taking not even a chance the shackles and incinerator may fail.
But she couldn’t go far with her wrists anchored, the pullback making her shoulders ache.
“It’s me.” Heron dropped down in front of her. “It’s just me.”
And despite the darkness crowding the train car, it was Heron. She knew that face, those eyes, those lips, anywhere.
“Heron! Oh my god,” she said, sniffling. “How?”
“I snuck into the car and hid in the back,” he said, gesturing toward the containers behind him.
From where Grace sat, it looked as if they were flush against the wall. No doubt Heron had used this to his advantage.
“You could’ve been caught,” she said, though the sco
