The high beams from our PAHLMS cut the darkness in Level 1 as we hold them against our foreheads. This effective technique was one of the first taught when they strapped on the device.

Kai falls into a stride matching my own. In my peripherals, I check if he's still here. It's possible I imagined him. I do have a head injury after all. My hallucinations and nightmares have a history of being in cahoots.

As we walk, I'm desperate to fill the silence. "I'm sorry."

"You said that already."

"I don't know why I said I wasn't contracted."

Kai shrugs. "You couldn't control yourself in my sexy presence. I get it."

I shake my head. "Yeah. That must've been it."

We leave the awkwardness behind and move forward.

The doors to the different domes appear at our sides, and Kai tells me we're in search of the entrance for the old flight hangar—Dome 2.

I find it to my right. Kai squats near the scan box on the side of the door and, with a few strong tugs, rips the box's face from the wall.

His hands fly deftly as sparks spit out around his fingers. He pats his back pockets to retrieve a pocket knife he flips open to cut through some of the mess. The wires hiss as he meddles in their tangled web.

After a few seconds, one door cracks open. He stands and bows.

"You broke it." I stare at the box in wonder, watching the hostile sparks fizzle from the busted scanner.

He frowns at my lack of appreciation. Despite anxiety burdening me because of my stupid attempt at a joke, we fit through the cracked door.

We enter the aviation graveyard. Skeletons of the few forgotten helicopters and fighter jets waste away. These must have been the tragic leftovers—the survivors from the Invasion.

Scorch marks, dents, and irreparable gashes expose their mechanical guts. These were the ones that scraped together enough power to return to the URE after the Invaders established their air superiority.

We never made that mistake again.

Seeing the aircrafts in this enormous room with their bodies still whole and their blades tilted and leaning in lazy angles, the questions scurry to the front of my mind again. What would it be like to take the Invaders from the sky? It's been years. I bet the alien bastards don't even remember we're capable of meeting them at their level. It could be an ambush.

Kai tugs on my sleeve, leading me forward.

"What are we doing here?" I whisper to him.

"There's a vent system that goes through the entire facility. It starts in Dome Two."

Of course. The vents. Every room is fashioned with them to keep the URE inhabitants breathing clean air.

We approach a circular grill opposite the fans whirring on the west side of the room. It's easily about three feet in diameter. I can fit in it smoothly, but I had forgotten which direction they were made in. The tunnel goes straight down like a giant slide to hell.

Before I can formulate what I assume is a stupid question, I spot a length of rope in the storage bunker. This will do.

Together, we watch the rope free-fall many meters below us. It should be enough.

"Go ahead." He points toward the hole, as if it wasn't a possible plunge to a horrific and untimely death.

I realize there is no doubt in Kai's mind. He believes I'll make it to this meeting, or I will die trying. Despite our incompatibility in humor and general dialogue, I warm to him. My stomach fills with butterfly wings again.

Without looking back, I fold the papers and stuff them into my back pocket.

Don't think. Just do.

Sitting on the edge of the hole, I wrap the prickly rope around my arm a few times and tug it to make sure it's made of something more hardy than miracles.

"Ready?" He lifts the vent with the rope tied securely to the middle bar of the grate.

I flash him an optimistic thumbs up because I suspect my voice will betray me.

He moves in closer to kiss me but stops. His blue eyes locked on mine, he backs away despite the crackle of heat we share. Maybe he still burns from the sting of electric currents biting his bare back.

He retreats. It's better this way.