Prologue

If it’s an arm you need, then it’s an arm you get

Wendy tells her to leave—again. It’s the third time, Irene counts. Leave? How? I’m the only one standing between you and death. Her left hand is doing its best to stop Wendy’s bleeding, and her right is holding the scrappy door meant to barricade them from the chimera. I’m not leaving you, and even if I want to, I don’t know the way out.

Theoretically, she can. Cinch Wendy’s arm with a tourniquet. Let Wendy keep the chimera busy to buy some time while she makes her way out. Dig straight up. Find a guard somewhere aboveground. Tell them to contact General Mustang or General Armstrong. Come back to Wendy with them. Theoretically.

Her hand is slick and sticky with blood. All Wendy’s. Only adrenaline rush is keeping her up and talking, Irene realizes. She won’t hold on long. They won’t. Either the chimera will find them first or the lab’s construction caves in and buries them all first. For Wendy, it’s a lose-lose situation. For her, there’s a bigger chance she can survive.

Wendy calls her name again, her right hand over Irene’s own o