Julia grasped Sawyer’s shoulder and he sagged back into the curve of her arms. She smoothed her hand across the top of his skull. He had a gash on his forehead that was seeping blood. He was probably concussed.

“We should get this cut checked out. I can take you to the infirmary.”

He shrugged away from her caress. “Later.”

Julia let him go and drew a long, low breath while her heart battered against her ribs like a scared bird. Her legs wanted to bolt from the room, but she forced herself to remain where she was, ignoring the fear loosening her muscles and narrowing her vision. She wiped her clammy hands on her cargo pants and pulled in a shaky breath. She didn’t deserve to be traumatized by what amounted to nothing by most other survivor’s standards. She’d been safe at Magdon Down while the world had been torn apart. She hadn’t lived through the invasion the way ordinary people in their homes had. She’d been spared so much of the brutality, and yet her mind would not let her past rest.

Fuck.

Violet paced the edge of the water, her pulse rifle trained on the river.

Garrick scrutinized Sawyer. “The water’s pretty filthy. Are you sure you saw something?”

As Sawyer pulled himself up, Julia touched the back of his head briefly in a gesture of private solidarity. He staggered slightly as he straightened to his full height. Julia was far from petite, but she always felt dwarfed next to him. This fighter who’d tackled Chittrix without a moment’s hesitation was spooked.

Her fingertips tingled, and her breath was shallow and rapid but she stood with him, concealing her discomfort.

Sawyer shook his head. “I thought so. But a Chittrix would have attacked.”

Garrick nodded in agreement.

Violet kicked the wall on the far side of the platform, knocking a few stones loose. She approached Sawyer and the others. “There’s no norm for the Chittrix. That’s the one creepy factoid we do know.”

“Could it have been a person?” Julia asked, desperate to shift the focus from Chittrix to something more benign. Please, not Chittrix in the water.

They all turned to look at her. Sawyer frowned. “It was bigger than a person.”

Julia indicated the damage below the surging waterline. “This could easily have been a scavenger.”

Garrick shook his head. “How the hell would they get in?”

“It’s difficult but not impossible.” Violet pointed at the water. “The base can be accessed through the river. There are plenty of scavengers living on the surface who’d like to help themselves to what we have here. Hell, I’m not pointing fingers, but there are new faces here too.”

Garrick’s grey eyes were serious. “Why would they sabotage where they live?” He shook his head in disbelief. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

Sawyer wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. “Only two families have joined us in recent months. They’re not likely to jeopardize their children’s lives.”

“There’s no way into the basement other than the door we all came through.” Violet pointed with the snub-nose of her weapon.

Julia hugged her elbows. Unless you count the freezing black water under the platform we’re standing on right now.

Sawyer rubbed his chin. “Julia, could someone access the base through the water system?”

“Theoretically, yes.” She dragged the words out slowly. “But why would they come in, damage a few connections to the coolant system, and leave?”

A metallic clatter of noise above their heads drew their attention. Lincoln Foster and Ryan Hardy loomed above, light from their pulse rifles bouncing off the glistening cavern walls.

Violet shouted up. “Nice of you ladies to join us. Power’s already back on.”

Hardy swore something indecipherable in Irish Gaelic. A former cage fighter, his broad shoulders cast a shadowy hulk in the plant room above. The target light of his weapon bounced toward the ceiling.

Foster ignored Violet and climbed down the ladder. His feet hit the metal with a clang. Foster had received an honorable discharge from the army, but he still wore his fair hair shaved close to his skull. Intense blue-black ink decorated every part of his wiry, lean frame apart from his face and neck. Julia still didn’t know what to make of him. He was the complete antithesis of what she imagined a bomb disposal expert to be: a walking advertisement for ADHD, with restless hands and feet, and a mouth that often didn’t know when to shut up. But like the others in the team, he’d put his life repeatedly on the line for the inhabitants of the CB, and for that, he had her respect.

Foster raised an eyebrow as he pointed at Sawyer’s soaking clothes. “Aren’t you meant to take your clothes off before you go swimming?”

Sawyer pushed past him, heading for the ladder. “Get lost, Foster.”

“Sawyer fixed the coolant valves under the water,” Julia explained. “The alarm tripped because the plant was overheating.”

“He thinks he saw a Chittrix in the river.” Violet added.

“Shit. Really?” Foster eased over to where Violet was standing. He leaned over the edge.

Violet joined him. “We haven’t seen anything though.”

Sawyer hesitated at the foot of the ladder. “Something knocked me over. Something was in the water with me.”

Foster wrinkled his brow “Fuckers started swimming now?”

Julia muttered under her breath. “No one has ever seen them in the water. They’re land-based.”

About to climb, Sawyer hesitated. He shot her a glance. Julia studied the floor, ashamed at her lack of support but unable to provide what he wanted. This conversation had to be over. She stared at his boots, avoiding his glare.

Sawyer cursed under his breath. “I need to get dried off.”

Only as he climbed the ladder did Julia raise her eyes. She tracked his retreating back, wet clothes sticking to every chiseled inch of his body, his shirt glimmering under the emergency lighting with the soft luminescence of algae.

Violet caught her eye, curiosity dancing across her delicate features.

Julia tore her gaze away, looking anywhere but at Sawyer. He was her secret and he was going to stay that way.