Free Terra by Gretchen Powell Page B

trudge along. This forest is so vastly different from the Dead Woods. The trees here are not as tall, nor as thick, but they still take up more room, due to the foliage bursting from their branches. The entire scene is so peaceful. The only sounds other than our footsteps come in the form of the wind rustling through the leaves and the distant babble of running water. The sunlight filters in through the canopy above us, making delightful shadowy patterns on my skin. I’m so captivated that I almost walk right into a low-hanging branch.
    I look over to find Adam watching me, his eyes crinkled in a smile. With a huff, I return my gaze to the front.
    “So where exactly are we going?” he says.
    “ We aren’t going anywhere. I’m going to find another one of those door panel things so I can go home.” I push a particularly swishy branch out of my way and it snaps back at me, leaving a harsh red welt on my upper arm.
    “Wouldn’t it be easier just to ask someone for help? Maybe someone who already knows of another way out? Someone who—oh, I don’t know—has been living down here for the past week and actually knows where he’s going?” he says, graciously ignoring the tears stinging in my eyes.
    I am too shocked by his words to notice his criticism. “You know where to go? You’ve been living down here? Why? How did you get here? Why haven’t you left?” The questions spill off of my tongue in a flurry.
    “I’ve got questions too, you know. You’re the first person I’ve had contact with since I’ve been down here, and I don’t know anything about how you got here. Other than the whole cornered-by-a-pack-of-large-men thing. So you’ll forgive me if I don’t feel like spilling my guts,” he says calmly, one eyebrow raised. “I’ve already answered more of your questions than you have of mine, and I’m the one who got hit in the face.”
    I purse my lips. “Will you at least tell me if I’m going in the right direction?”
    “Yes, you are,” he says.
    I wait for him to elaborate, but he is silent. “Fine. How about this: You give me an answer, and I give you one. Fair?”
    “I won’t say it’s fair, precisely, but sure. Go ahead,” he says.
    My head is swirling with questions, so I decide to start from the beginning. “How long was I unconscious?”
    “A little while,” he says vaguely. “How did you get here?”
    I raise an eyebrow. That’s hardly an answer, I think, but I figure the best way to get him to talk is to humor him. “I was just really in the mood to take a stroll through the contaminated ruins,” I answer sarcastically. “What do you think? I was running from those raiders. How did you get here?”
    “Same way you did,” he says with a shrug, “just kind of stumbled into it. What did those guys want with you?”
    “Same thing they want with any girl. Something tells me they’re not used to running into female scavs.”
    Adam absorbs the word, puzzled, but doesn’t ask me to clarify.
    “Who are you?” I ask.
    “I’m Adam. I thought we’d met.”
    “I’m being serious.”
    “So am I.”
    I give him the side eye, irritated by his continued evasiveness.
    “My turn again,” he says. “I probably should’ve opened with this, but are you all right?”
    I feel a crease appear in my forehead as I contemplate the sincerity of his concern. “Um… yeah. I mean, I will be. I feel much better already.” I duck below an overhanging branch. “Thanks,” I add as an afterthought.
    “You’re welcome,” he replies.
    “So what are you doing down here?” I ask.
    “I got… lost.” He tries to keep the word light, but something else lurks behind it. “What did you do to make those guys so mad?”
    I pause for a second. “I may or may not have kneed their leader in the balls.”
    Adam laughs. “That explains a lot.”
    “What were you doing in the ruins in the first place?” I ask.
    “Exploring,” he says casually, plucking a large leaf from above his head. He