CHAPTER ELEVEN
Luanda marched and marched, exhausted, weak from hunger, freezing, feeling as if her trek would never end. She couldn’t allow herself to stop. She had to make it back, to her homeland, to Bronson. She was still reeling as she thought how lucky she had been to escape, what a close call it had been. She had been looking over her shoulder the entire march back, still fearing that somehow, maybe, Romulus would find a way to take down the Shield, to follow her, to grab her and bring her back.
But he was never there. He was gone now, the Shield was truly up, and Luanda had been safe marching, all this way, through the wasteland of the Ring, determined to make it home. She was relieved, yet she also felt a sense of dread. Would her people take her back in, after all she had done?
