Chapter 50

• The sun was setting over the ruins of the processing plant, the sky bleeding orange and purple, a beautiful, indifferent backdrop to the horrors that had unfolded below.
• Reese and I stood on one of the high catwalks, the wind a low, mournful sigh in our ears, carrying the stench of smoke and death. Below us, her Free Rats moved with a grim, practiced efficiency, securing the research from Kael’s lab, salvaging what weapons and supplies they could, and dragging the bodies of the dead to a makeshift pyre that was already burning, its black smoke a thick, greasy finger pointing at the sky.
• Among them, a small group of soldiers were carefully securing a crippled, but still conscious, figure to a stretcher. The Remnant. He was Reese’s prize now. Her ghost in a cage.