Torn Sky (Rebel Wing Trilogy, Book 3) (Rebel Wing Series) Read Online Free PDF Page A

game. Even Otto didn’t engage in his usual trash-talking.
    Tia felt Dysis’s absence keenly. And Aris was busy with official Spiro business, now that she was a lieutenant and Promised to Major Vadim. That meant Tia was the only woman from Spiro in the room. Nearly the only woman, period. There were a couple female mender assistants watching a news vid, but that was it.
    A row of tables along the far wall was filled with menders sending comms to their families. She thought about comming her family, but what would she say? That because of a flubbed rescue call, she was alive while most of her unit was dead? That her hands were still shaking, and she couldn’t seem to draw a full breath?
    When she looked back at Baksen’s table, more soldiers had joined the game.
    Oh Gods.
    She gasped as she stared at their faces. Galec, with short ginger hair and kind eyes. Evander, his every inch of skin covered in colorful tattoos.
    And there was Lieutenant Daakon, sitting just beyond Otto, his brown eyes serious. He was staring at her.
    Tia heaved to her feet, heart pounding in her temples with the force of a hammer.
    “You’re . . . you’re all dead.” The words slipped out of her throat.
    Throughout the room, skeletal faces turned toward her, their skin burnt black or torn away in strips. Black uniforms of Safarans, interspersed with Atalantan green. The memory of smoke clung in the back of her throat, choking her.
    She stumbled forward, knocking over a chair. Its clatter cut through the noise, louder than the roaring of her own blood in her ears. Or maybe it was their blood, rushing toward her in cascades of red.
    She resisted the sudden urge to tear apart the specters that haunted her and fled instead, pushing through the crowd, oblivious to the curious or sympathetic looks she earned in passing. She gasped as she burst into the empty hall, but still the sounds of battle followed her. The pounding concussion of explosions, the hiss of solagun fire.
    The screams of all the men who’d died.
    Pressing her hands to her head, she tried to shut out the noise, tried to erase the memories, but they dogged her down the hall, into the washroom. She made it just before a wave of bile silenced the voices.
    Afterward, she leaned back against the cold, metal wall, knees to her chest, and rocked. Tears burned her cheeks. The waking nightmares were getting worse. Even now, her heart raced so fast it felt like it might explode, and sweat slicked her neck.
    The washroom door hissed open.
    “Pallas?”
    The tension in her shoulders eased a tiny bit. With a sigh, she said, “I’m here, Baksen.”
    Her gunner squeezed himself into the washroom stall and sank to the floor across from her. His muscular body looked awkward and cramped in the small space, but his square-jawed face remained relaxed. He looked at her for a few moments.
    “That’s your third episode in two days.” A small furrow appeared between his steady brown eyes. “It’s getting worse.”
    Tia wanted to shrug it off, to make denials as she always did. But there was little point this time. “Everyone is dead, Baksen. We didn’t get back in time . . . and I just keep seeing them everywhere.” Her voice was hoarse, as if she’d been the one screaming in pain. “Yes, it’s worse. But I just need a few days—”
    “You
need
to speak to Major Vadim. Or Commander Nyx,” Baksen interjected, his face drawn with concern. “You need help dealing with this. You’re not the only one who’s been struggling, you know. It’s okay to ask for help.”
    Tia shook her head vehemently, a thread of panic sliding through her. “No, I can’t. They won’t let me fly. They’ll send me home.”
    “Maybe that’s a good—”
    “Please, Baksen,” she begged. “I can’t lose this. I need to fly, okay? This is all I have.” She didn’t want to cry again, not in front of him, but the tears slipped out anyway.
    Baksen didn’t argue or threaten to tell them himself. He didn’t try to