They made it back through the first set of doors, and then the second and the third, all the way back to the main foyer. Dec bore a track for the exit, following the bounce of Teegan's torch beam as she charged through the doors.

Just as he was about to descend the cool marble steps out front, he heard something – a rattle like a coin tray released from a register and a handful of cresols hitting the floor. "What was that?"

Teegan grabbed his arm and pulled.

The coin tray rattled again. "Did you hear that?"

"It's nothing. Quick!"

Dec snatched the torch, "There's someone inside," and lunged back into the foyer.

"Dec!" Teegan's shout was sharp and panic stricken, but he barely registered it over the adrenaline blood-pump in his ears. He didn't expect Teegan to follow him, only knew she was there from the high squeak of her shoes on the polished floor trailing him inside.

They found the mother and daughter huddled beneath the serving counter, so folded in each other's arms, they could have passed for a single person. Black hair, black eyes, both Northerners. A cash drawer lay overturned at their feet, a splash of gold sols and silver cresols making a chequerboard of the tilework. It seemed as though they'd been attempting a quick robbery of what they thought was an unoccupied building.

The mother withdrew violently in Dec's torchlight.

"You have to get out of here," he said, louder than intended, desperation soaking his words in aggression. "This building's about to blow up."

The mother recoiled even further. It was clear she hadn't understood a word of what he'd said and Dec reeled in the face-slap of irony that in the two years he'd shared a country with these people, he hadn't learned a single word of their language.

He turned the torchlight on Teegan, who shivered in the beam like he'd doused her in icy water. "Do you speak Northern?"

"I'm a chemical engineer," she said, failing to control the rising decibels of terror in her voice. "Not a fucking translator." Still, she turned to the woman and repeated Dec's words as though by saying them twice, and louder, would make a difference.

When the woman still didn't respond, or make a move to leave, Teegan gave an incoherent exclamation and, as though losing all control of her body, pitched forward and grabbed the Northerner by the shoulders, attempting to haul her out from under the counter.

The woman screeched, a high, terrified sound and let go of her daughter in the struggle. White-eyed and gripping her mother's leg in terror, the child began to wail, long, haunting exhalations.

"Teegan, stop," Dec shouted, trying and failing to haul the blonde-haired scientist away. But like a dog with lock-jaw, she wouldn't be shaken, and with one arm in a sling, and the pain in his shoulder pricking holes in his vision, there wasn't much Dec could do without forgoing his ability to stand upright.

In all his debilitating fear, Dec barely reacted when someone brushed up beside him, ripped the torch from his hand, and shone it directly on the feuding pair. A sharp voice elicited from the intruder, saying something indecipherable in Southern first, then, switching to Northern—"Let her go."

Both women froze—Teegan with her hands reaching for the Northerner's neck, the Northerner mid-way through delivering a blow to the side of Teegan's cheek. Dec could do nothing but clutch the countertop for balance as he took in glossy raven hair, black jeans and a tight black skivvy much too hot for an Atundan summer. The slightest graze of her arm against his had left him feeling again like he'd just stepped onto the port and into the sun for the first time in two years.

Rain spoke to the mother in a rapid string of words, which melted with the woman's response until it sounded like they were conversing in two-part harmony. After their word-duel reached finale intensity, Rain turned her head to address the two Southerners. "She won't come because she thinks you're going to take her and her daughter to the warehouses. She doesn't trust me because she thinks I'm working for you."

The relief Dec had felt upon seeing Rain, now hung limp and heavy. There was nothing they could do for the woman and child if they wouldn't even listen to one of their own.

He could practically see the lit end of the waxed rope smoke and char as it reached the packing tape and the particles of dust turn red as the flame bent like a compass towards it.

"They're going to die," Teegan said.

"Nobody's going to die." Rain placed Dec's torch on the Jarrah countertop and started across the room in the direction of the storage vault, seeming to be able to find her way without need of a light. "There's a vehicle waiting outside to take you and Teegan to safety. Go to it."

"What about you?" Dec followed.

Rain turned sharply, giving him a shove to the shoulder, causing the cartridge to crunch. He folded in pain.

"Go," she said.

Dec straightened. "No."

"Please ... go, Declan."

For a second, they stood, toe-to-toe, neither moving, neither speaking. It wasn't the plea that caused Dec's hesitation, but the inflection in her tone he'd never heard before. It stabbed his chest, made him feel like something very sharp had deflated his lungs.

All it took was another moment's hesitation and she was gone, dispersed between the shadows and through the doors of the clean room. When he tried to follow again, a set of arms gripped him around the waist and dragged him back.

"Let me go!" he struggled and failed to break free. He knew what Rain was about to do, and knew if she did it, she would surely die.

"She's going to try to stop the explosion. She's going to get herself killed." Rain may have been able to walk the shadows, but it was impossible to slow down time.

"There's nothing we can do." Teegan tightened her hold. "We have to—"

The ground gave a tumultuous tremor like they were standing on the back of a wet stray shaking itself dry. There was an undeniable crunch of stone reinforcements cracking, and a searing heat that ripped the air from Dec's lungs, leaving him gasping.

"Rain," he cried, wrenching free of Teegan's hold and taking a step in the direction of the clean room doors only to have them burst open in his face, thrusting him backwards as they gave way to another explosion and a billowing cloud of toxic, black smoke. Dec heaved for breath, nose stinging, throat swelling. Staggering into Teegan, who in turn, fell against the countertop, cracking her head against the polished timber. At the sight of her crumpled on the floor, Dec had a flashback of Mark's limp remains in the alley. But then Teegan twisted and groaned. She was okay.

Moving in a daze, he wedged his good arm around her waist and hauled her to her feet, ducking as chunks of plaster came away from the mezzanine above their heads. They stumbled towards the door.

"Dec ... look," Teegan rasped, just as the building gave another shudder and the smoke thickened, smothering the words from her mouth. The mother and child were a few steps in front, bent low, arms over their heads to protect themselves from the worst of the falling plaster. Just before they slipped out into the night, the mother turned and caught his gaze—her eyes were two black pearls of fear.

Dec and Teegan burst from the burning building as the weight-bearing Carrara columns broke, one-by-one, like ribs under pressure. Any pillar of hope Dec might have held for Rain broke in that moment too—the desert dust hadn't exploded as they'd predicted; the mother and child would escape unscathed; Rain had risked her life for nothing.

Dazed, he did nothing to protest the steady set of hands that gripped and hauled him towards a large, black monstrosity of a vehicle, while another set of hands took the weight of Teegan. In the distance, lights and sirens were getting closer, and the rumble of the demolition mission louder.

A surreal daze fell over him, smothering his senses and his ability to reconcile control of his own body. There was a pop of a boot latch, and the forceful push of hands bundling him into dark, cramped space. Somehow, he managed a weak struggle of resistance—not so much against the impending darkness, but for what he was leaving behind. Rain was inside that building. He needed to go back. Needed to help her. But the arms were forcefully reassuring, compelling him where his own will had given up.

"We're taking you to the Cormorant. You'll be safe out at sea." It was the voice of his father. The Land Rover must've been Dirk Regulski's. "If we get stopped, don't make a sound."

Too congested with smoke to respond, and too exhausted to think straight, he allowed himself to be folded into the boot. Teegan was already curled into the space beside him, groggy but conscious. There was a rush of air and a solid clunk. Then, darkness, in which all he could feel was the press of a plastic boot liner against his cheek and the jut of a metal boot latch against his spine.

The diesel engine roared. They were speeding away, lulled by the rise and fall of soft desert sand-adjusted suspension and the brain numbing vibrations of the road. The claws of claustrophobia took hold, and this time, Dec did nothing to fight them.