The dust shredded Bo's skin, blasting it until it stung and bled. She couldn't even take a breath without it clogging her throat and filling her lungs. All she could do was hold her hand firmly over her mouth and nose, and hold her breath as she ran down the pebbled road, keeping the lights on either side of her.

Even with the goggles, it was almost impossible to see. Other than the lights, she had no idea of what direction she was going. The pebbles helped a little bit, by alerting her to the fact that she was still on the road or had veered into the grass by the feel of the ground on her boots. But otherwise, she was merely running into the void and hoping they would be safe.

The others pulled on her, slowing things down, and Bo's lungs began to burn. They'd been outside for what felt like hours, and she needed to breathe. But there was nothing in the sky but dust. She tried lifting her shirt up to create a pocket of air, but what little she got down was almost as bad as holding her breath. She hacked until her ribs hurt, but kept running no matter what. The lights whizzed by them, the pebbles crunched under their feet, and the dust skinned them alive.

But then a door appeared out of nowhere, and Bo slammed into it with full force. She ricocheted backward, sending the others tumbling to the ground as well, while she groaned and held her forehead. It pulsed with pain, and her hand felt almost as if it had been knocked out of the joint. But she didn't have time to wallow in the pain of face-planting a metal door. They need clean air, and right now.

Scrambling to her feet, Bo slid the keycard through the lock on the door, and it swung open onto a dark hallway. She didn't even bother to look for militia soldiers before she turned and hauled Helga up and into safety. Then the soldier stumbled to his feet and she held out a hand to guide him, followed closely by Khan who gripped Esme's hand in his.

When everyone was indoors, Bo followed them, grunting as she forced the door closed against the wind. And then it was quiet. So deathly quiet after the raging of the storm that it felt like their ears had stopped working and were pulsing in pain.

"Bo, you look like a butchered cow," Khan said, though he himself was gasping and bleeding through the bandage on his shoulder.

Bo grimaced at him, but still touched her forehead. It was slick with blood, and she could feel it sliding down her skin toward her eye. She shoved the goggles over her forehead, hoping the strap would keep the blood at bay, and then turned to look down the hallway.

No one was present, and the lights dimmed as the dust storm interrupted the flow of electricity. The whole building felt abandoned and eerily dead. It sent shivers down Bo's spine to look down the long dark hallways, their shadows lining the walls. But Adam was in here somewhere, and she couldn't be frightened when he was so close.

The small soldier shivered by Esme's side, but by now he wasn't even going to attempt to run. He knew that Helga or Bo would catch him if he tried to bolt, and he probably knew so many beatings at the hands of the militia officers that he was predisposed to avoid any kind of confrontation at all.

"The prisoner you're looking for is in the cell block, which is in the west wing and down the stairs," he muttered, eyes whipping back and forth from person to person.

"Show us the way, then," Khan said, nudging the soldier with a light tap of his boot on the soldier's leg. The soldier jumped at first, but then slowly began to walk down the hall, his hands clenched in front of him. The others fell into place behind him, forced to trust that he wouldn't lead them into a trap.

Bo stood at the back, keeping her ears strained for any sound that might have come from Adam. If the soldier was betraying them, she wanted to at least try and make sure she was able to find Adam on her own, if need be.

Helga walked by her side, but soon began to lag so much that she fell into the rear. Bo didn't notice at first, still intent on studying every door, stair, or hallway they passed. But after a while, she glanced behind her and saw Helga's shadowed face and slow steps.

Something was wrong. She didn't normally lag behind anyone, and she should have been up at the front teasing Khan for huffing so much and telling off the soldier for all his shivering making the gear on his uniform jangle loudly in the empty hallway. But for some reason she'd taken up the rear, barely walking at all so that she wouldn't be in line with Bo. Her eyes stayed on the ground, her hands gripping and ungripping at her sides.

Bo stopped, waiting until Helga caught up to her. Neither of them spoke for a minute, though Bo made sure to always match her speed so that Helga couldn't get away. Finally, Helga glanced up and snarled.

"Can't you see I want to be alone?" she muttered, exhaling as she shoved her braid over her shoulder to dangle down her back.

"Something's bothering you," Bo responded, cocking her head. "It's the men, isn't it. The soldiers, from before."

Helga's head snapped up, her mouth popping open for a split second before she realized that she'd given too much away. She quickly schooled her features back into the haughty expression she always wore, and snorted.

"Why would I be bothered by a bunch of idiots like them?"

Bo sighed, laying a hand on her arm. "Because you had to get close to them. You had to let them paw you and stare at you, and think that you were so low that you'd want them all for no reason at all."

Helga swallowed and glanced away at the ceiling. She shoved her fists into her pockets and shrugged. "It's nothing. I always do things like that," she said, though her voice was tight behind her casual words. "If the Forlorn ever need something guarded by men, it's easy to overcome them. I just trot out and make them think I could be possibly interested in them. They never see anything but me."

Bo stopped walking, placing her hand on Helga's arm to stop her as well. The others, unknowing, kept walking until Bo and Helga had some semblance of privacy.

"Helga, that sort of thing..." Bo shook her head. "It's not anything we need you to do. We're strong enough that we can think of different ways to accomplish the same goals. You've done good, and I'm grateful that you helped Adam help others. But if the way you did that makes you feel uncomfortable or dirty, then we won't ask you to do that ever again."

Helga slowly drew her hand out of her pocket, and grasped Bo's. She squeezed, hard, and inhaled long and deep. "Thank you, Bo," she replied.

"Of course," Bo replied, as Helga dropped her hand and they sped up to catch the others. "But know that you are strong no matter what you do. We only need your help, and it's up to you to decide how you'd like to give it."

Helga smiled briefly. "I can see why Adam loves you," she said. "It's not often a person in power is so accepting of those around her."

With that, they were right behind Khan and Esme again, and Bo looked ahead to see the soldier stop in front of a metal door.

"Here. He's beyond that," the soldier said, hunching and stepping to one side.

Bo practically ran to the door, sliding the keycard. It flashed red, and a sharp burst of a deep tone warned them it was the wrong key. Bo's eyes cut to the soldier, who drew in a sharp breath.

"Sorry," he muttered, digging around in his pocket. "I forgot the locks in this section of the building didn't work with the all-purpose keycards." He finally pulled a dark blue card from his pants pocket, offering it to Bo. She took it, sliding it in the lock and hearing the dainty ping of clearance. A moment later, the door popped open and she pulled it back to reveal a dark room with three doors in it. Huge glass windows covered the walls next to the doors, showing dark cement rooms beyond. One dim light illuminated the interiors, showing in two of the rooms empty metal bed frames. But in the room to the right, she saw a figure, half hidden as it lay on the floor.

But she didn't have to see his face to know it was Adam. She saw the glint of golden hair, and the broad shoulders that could belong to no man but one with the blood of an alien running through his veins.

She ran to the window, slamming into the glass and laughing even as the tears spilled down her cheeks. He was alive and right in front of her. Somehow, someway, they had escaped fate once again. It seemed the doomed couple had dodged that doom once again.

She was still smiling, pounding on the glass to get his attention, when he slowly stirred. Her smile faded as he rotated to look at her. Her heart stuttered at the sight of deep gashes covering his face and chest, and the way he barely could hold himself up as his eyes tried to focus on her.

Looking at him, there was no doubt what had happened to him while they'd been separated. He had been tortured.