Page 22 of Red Marked

The group stays low at first. Low enough that the tops of the trees pass close to my belly and the downdraft tears leaves off the canopy, low enough that anyone watching from the clinic will lose us against the black of the jungle almost immediately. They’ll second-guess what they saw. I keep us down there until the last of the fence line is well behind us, and the light on the water tower has dropped out of sight.

Then I break upward, and the others follow.

We climb hard and come out high enough that the jungle turns into one solid black sheet under us, with just the river cutting through it in a long silver seam where the moon catches.

It’s beautiful up here. It’s the same jungle we’ve worked over the last few days, only it seems…different.

Nothing moves down there, but we all stay on our guard.

I keep the mountains on my left and hold the line north. We fly without incident for about ten minutes, and then a male comes at us out of nowhere.

Dane is trailing, and he sees it half a beat before I do, a black shape rising fast off the trees with his wings barely moving. Dane’s rumble rolls up, and I’m already turning.

Rex swings wide and hard, as Brian brings the gun up and puts one dart into the male’s chest at ten feet. His wings stop working a second later, and he falls back down through the canopy, snapping branches all the way to the ground.

“Take that, asshole!” Brian yells with a snicker.

I rumble, and Dane gives a growl of approval.

Same as before, the jungle beneath us turns quiet, and the closer we get to the range, the quieter it seems.

We land near the trees at the base of the northern face, half a mile short of the ravine mouth. Brian clambers off Rex and undoes the rig. Rex groans as he pulls it clear off his back. Within seconds, we are in our human skins.

Atlas turns in a slow circle, looking out at the trees.

“There’s nothing out here,” he says.

“It’s eerily quiet,” I agree.

“Not a male anywhere on this face,” Dane says as he looks around. “I wonder if it isn’t these females they’re afraid of.”

“It might be. That feral male, Quake, mentioned how males who enter the ravine are never seen again,” I say. “He used the word kill.”

“It makes sense they’d be afraid.” Atlas nods.

“Makes me nervous to go anywhere near there,” Saber says. “What’s the plan from here? How are we going to tackle this?”

“The plan is that none of you are going in.” I look at the four of them, then at Brian. “This is where you stay put. I’m going in alone.”

“No fucking way,” Atlas growls. “Quake told you that no male has ever made it back.” He steps in. “You said he used the word kill. It’s fucking dangerous. Do you have a death wish or something?”

“If the six of us enter that ravine, we’ll be seen as a threat. They’ll attack. If it’s just me, there’s a chance they’ll be willing to talk.”

“A chance?” Atlas snorts. “That’s bullshit. You’ll be killed if you’re on your own. I admire your courage, but…”

“Every male who has ever gone up there has been one of yours.” I pause. “They have all had red on their scales and were clearly identifiable as feral. That’s what they’ve been killing for years, and that’s what they’ll be looking for coming up that ravine.” I hold my arms out. “Look at me. I’m a Draiger just like the females I know they have hidden away in there. I don’t think they’ll see me as a threat.”

Atlas’s eyes narrow.

“You don’t think?”

“I’m telling you that I’m the only male on this team who can walk in there not looking like the enemy,” I say. “You know I’m right.” I widen my eyes. “Think it through. See the logic in what I am saying.”

He stands there, his eyes lifting in thought.

I keep my eyes on him. I pray I’m right. I have to be.

Atlas’s jaw works, and he makes a noise that sounds like it might be agreement. “What if you don’t come back? There is that possibility, whether you like it or not.”