Free The Lair by Emily McKay Page B

Lily’s other arm for another shot. “This one is morphine for the pain; it’ll make you a little woozy, but—”
    Lily pulled her arm away. “No. I’m good.”
    Dawn frowned. “Your arm has to be killing you.”
    “I don’t want to be woozy.” In this world, woozy got you killed. Maybe not if you were down in an underground bunker, like she was right now, but eventually, it got you killed. And she didn’t plan on staying down here for long.
    “If you won’t take the morphine, at least let me get you an oral painkiller.” Dawn must have seen the hesitation in Lily’s eyes because she added, “You can bring it with you and take it when you get back to your camp.”
    Lily held out her palm and Dawn handed over a bottle of the antibiotics. She put the painkillers in a tiny Ziploc bag.
    For the first time, it occurred to Lily that although she had a ton of questions for Dawn, Dawn didn’t seem at all interested in hearing about Base Camp. Did that mean she just wasn’t interested? Or did she already know about the camp?
    Lily hoped she’d have the chance to ask her later. But for now, she wanted to see Carter.
    “Are we done here? Where are the others?”
    “Up at the house. I can take you there.” She placed a gentle hand on Lily’s other arm. “Easy now. Let’s get a sling on your arm. It’ll help with the pain.”
    “Okay. Why are you cringing?”
    “For you to wear the sling, we have to get your arm through the sleeve of the sweatshirt. It’s going to hurt like a bitch.”
    And she was right. It did end up being cringe worthy. If Lily hadn’t been trying so hard to be tough in front of Dawn, she probably would have cried.
    By the time Dawn had the sling adjusted, Lily’s arm throbbed so badly it made her head spin.
    “How is that?” Dawn asked as she adjusted the last strap.
    With the sling in place, Lily relaxed and let the fabric accept the weight of her arm. “Better,” she admitted. “Much better.”
    “Well, it’s no morphine shot, but it should help.”
    A moment later, she swung open the door to the sleeping area and led Lily into another room shaped just like the first. This room had a kitchenette off to one side, with a table and chair and a small sitting area on the other side. Straight ahead was an open door, which led to a flight of stairs. Her uncle Rodney had an underground bunker like this, but his was smaller. More of a hidey-hole, as opposed to this, which seemed to be a full home buried underground.
    By the time they made it up the stairs and through the final door, Lily was nearly shaking from exhaustion. Sweat poured down the back of her neck. Dawn opened the hatch door, flooding the passageway with light.
    Blinking, she walked out into the sunlight. At least it was still day.

CHAPTER ELEVEN
    Lily
    Carter looked up when Lily entered the house, but his expression—dark and closely guarded—was impossible for her to read. Which was strange, because she’d gotten to know him pretty well in the past six weeks.
    He sat, one of several men, at a table, but was the only one who held her attention for long. Dawn’s father, Mr. Armadale, was at the head of the table. There were a couple of younger versions of him—Dawn’s brothers, most likely—and a couple of men Armadale’s age who must have been neighbors or fellow townspeople.
    She barely noticed any of them. Carter studied her for a minute and she felt very self-conscious. Strangely aware of how she looked. Aware of the borrowed hoodie she had on and the fact that she wore nothing underneath it, not even a bra. Aware of the sweat beading on her hairline, despite the cool weather. Aware, too, of the fact that she’d lost blood and her skin would look too pale, almost bluish, which she knew from the months on the Farm—where it was common to be down a couple of pints.
    Just when she was starting to fidget and to feel faint, Carter stood and crossed to the door. Only then did she look around the rest of the room