3

A woman’s worth isn’t in her beauty.

It lies in her resilience.

The heat of the blazing sun was relentless.

Hour after hour, sweat beaded down the side of her neck, dripping down her sore calves. She glanced at Winnie, her heart tightening with concern.

Winnie’s pale skin had taken on a greenish hue, and her gait had slowed progressively. Derek changed the dressing on her wound once more, and they took turns supporting her.

“What’s that?” Serene pointed ahead to a grey building just off the side of the road.

A tall sign stood high over the abandoned structure, displaying white numbers that read: $0.99 per gallon.

Her eyes shifted to the pallets of wood covering the windows, spray-painted with the words: WE ARE OUT OF GAS. The red block letters were barely legible, like the writer hastily scribbled the message while drunk.

Strange black pillars lay crumbled about outside the building. Even more bizarre was the tiny car folded in on itself like origami, with one pillar piercing its front windshield.

A dull red sign hung crookedly on the front of the building: AS STATION.

“Ass station?” Adan drawled.

“Gas station.” Brock prowled forward, kicking stray debris out of the way. “I’ve rested here on previous runs across the Death-Zone. The infrastructure is solid enough. We can rest here for ten minutes and ten minutes only.” He flicked an irritated gaze toward Serene.

“Yeah, yeah.” Serene waved him off and stepped through the open door, shards of glass crunching under her boots. Khalani swallowed, following her inside.

The interior was a warzone.

Shelves were toppled over. Broken glass was everywhere. Dust specks were visible in the sunlight that streamed through a gargantuan hole in the roof.

A part of her didn’t even want to know how that happened.

“There’s really nothing left,” Derek said, his voice a mix of wonder and dismay as he stepped into the grimy space.

Khalani flinched when a lone cockroach crawled along the back wall and disappeared under an empty cardboard box.

“They’re all like that,” Brock said in a low voice. “Nearly all the stores on the road were picked clean. Some things were forgotten, though.” The corner of his mouth quirked up, the most relaxed she’d seen him, as he headed straight for the back corner.

Her brows furrowed as Brock pushed aside some dusty shelves on the floor, revealing a stack of papers with colorful images painted on top.

“What’s that?”

A depraved expression manifested on Brock’s face as he flipped the pages around.

A beautiful, busty blonde graced the cover, wearing nothing but brown boots, a weird-rimmed hat, and white panties. Her breasts and nipples were fully displayed as she stared straight at them with a seductive grin.

Khalani’s cheeks reddened, her mouth forming an O. Brock continued flipping through the lewd images, each one more salacious than the last.

Adan quickly maneuvered around her, his eyes lighting up.

“Is that what I think it is?”

Brock grinned. “From what I know, they used to sell these in all the Great Collapse stores.” When he flipped to an image of two women in bizarre suits throwing mud at each other, Adan’s expression transformed into pure awe.

“I don’t see what the big fuss is.” Serene barged forward, snatching the magazine from Brock’s hands. “Those boobs aren’t even real. They look like plastic balloons.”

“Jealous?” Brock’s eyes gleamed.

“Why would I be jealous of ancient bimbos?”

“Be nice, Serene.” Winnie reprimanded as Derek helped her sit on the tiled floor. “Women support, not shame.”

“Please don’t give me that look, Winnie.” Serene sighed. “They’re not even alive!”

“And we should still celebrate them.”

“I’m in total agreement,” Adan smirked.

Serene grimaced and shoved the magazine into Brock’s chest with one hand while smacking her brother on the back of the head with the other.

Khalani found herself still staring at the pictures.

She didn’t normally think about her body. She’d never had a reason to. In Apollo, status depended on wealth, and she’d been at the bottom of the pecking order. But as she gazed at the women, she couldn’t help but compare herself.

Khalani had a firm backside, and her body was toned from the lack of calories and torturous training sessions with Takeshi in Braderhelm. But her chest was lacking in comparison, and judging by the laughter and teasing in the women’s expressions, their energy drew people in like the sun.

Khalani was dark and depressing. Like a raincloud.

She’d never seen a raincloud, but from what she read in Winnie’s library, they didn’t bring joy. They brought the cold, were gloomy, cried their emotions, and exploded lightning in anger.

That description should have her face stapled next to it.

“Wanna take a closer look?” Brock inclined his head with a knowing gaze, holding the magazine out to her.

That snapped Khalani out of her stupor, and she shook her head fervently.

He chuckled, pulling the sheets back. “Judging by the blush on your cheeks, I think you do. No need to be ashamed if it turns you on.”

“If what turns her on?”

The blood completely leached out of her face, and she closed her eyes, hoping…praying that the gravelly tone was a figment of her imagination and the man it belonged to wasn’t standing directly behind her.

“Nothing. Just some light reading,” Brock smirked. Much to her dismay, he tossed the magazine directly behind her.

She dared a glance over her shoulder, and her heart dropped when she saw Takeshi flipping through it.

His expression was impassive as he thumbed through the thin pages. A few seconds passed as she waited for him to have a similar reaction to Adan, but Takeshi appeared bored, as if he were sifting through a mundane research paper detailing the chemical composition of limestone.

“Do you have a favorite, Kanes?” Takeshi’s gaze flicked up to hers.

“A favorite what?”

“Picture.”

Someone kill her.

“Or position. There are some good ones in here,” Brock chimed in with a sardonic grin. Takeshi shifted his focus to him.

The inherent brutality in his gaze would make even the strongest man cower, but Takeshi remained silent, clearly wanting to hear her answer more than he wanted to flay Brock’s skin off.

She glanced up at the hole in the ceiling, calculating how fast it would take to disappear through it.

“Well?” Brock prodded.

“I have no favorite,” she said quickly.

“You sure? There’s an interesting one on page sixty-nine here that I’m sure you’d—”

“Say another word, Brock, and I’m shooting you between your legs,” she interrupted with a hard glare, fully prepared to grab her gun and follow through.

Brock chuckled, but Takeshi shifted his focus to him. “Ask again, Death-Zoner. I’m looking forward to the next part.”

The tangible darkness in his voice was unsettling. Brock was quiet for a moment, and everyone tensed, readying for a fight...

But Brock just chuckled.

“I thought you of all people would be dying for that answer, Steele. But I guess it’d be more fun to watch you crash and burn. And I can’t let her deprive me of my greatest asset.”

“Highly doubtful,” Serene retorted.

Brock smirked and backed away, casually strolling to another corner of the store as if he wasn’t a breath away from having his tongue snatched out.

Khalani’s muscles relaxed slightly, but the tension lingered with Takeshi just inches away. The heat radiating from him felt like standing next to a carefully controlled fire—one that drew you in before burning you to ash.

“Do you have a favorite?” Adan asked Takeshi.

Khalani peeked up, a little too eager to hear the answer.

For academic purposes.

Takeshi scoffed, handing the magazine back to Adan. “They’re not my type,” he said in the most indifferent tone known to man.

“Seriously?” Adan’s jaw dropped. “Are you gay or something?”

Khalani choked on her next breath, awkwardly thumping her chest.

“Not that we care.” Adan quickly raised his hands at the thick silence. “Whatever beat you drum to, isn’t that right, Derek?”

“Please stop talking,” Derek chimed from the corner.

She didn’t dare look at him. As it was, Khalani feared the answer stamped itself to her face.

“No, I’m not,” Takeshi clipped. “Do you have any other trivial questions, or can we leave?”

“N-no. I-I mean, yes. We can leave.” Adan’s cheeks flushed.

Takeshi immediately strode forward, covering the distance to the exit in just a few long strides, leaving the rest of them behind.

“Nice going, Adan,” Serene muttered.

Adan guffawed. “What? I was just trying to make small talk. I didn’t expect him to look like he wanted to stab me.”

“I don’t think you’re the skin he’s trying to get under.” Brock appeared from around the corner, adjusting the straps of his backpack. Khalani let out a harsh breath, feeling like the sly comment was aimed directly at her.

What they didn’t know was that only thing Takeshi liked getting under was her nerves.

As the others hurried to gather their things, Adan sneakily tucked the magazine into his pack.

“Are you sure that’s essential?” Khalani raised an eyebrow.

Adan smirked and leaned in. “Unless you plan on stripping along the way so I don’t have to stare at Brock’s ass for inspiration, it definitely is.”

“What about my ass?” Brock snapped, glaring at them.

“Nothing,” they answered at the same time.