Liar, Liar, Pants on Fire, Part 1

Sam held Thunder’s hand, his fingers tightening on hers.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into her ear.

Thunder’s other hand rose to his face. Not to slap him for his perceived failure, but to caress his cheek. It was a touch of warmth in an otherwise cold afternoon where the stench of defeat seemed to prevail in the air.

“It’s not your fault, Sam,” she whispered back. “Maeve made the choice any hero worth their salt would have…”

Thunder stifled a cough.

“Do you want me to—”

“Don’t worry...” Thunder glanced toward the EMTs on either side of her stretcher. “These guys will take good care of me.”

The grave looks on the EMTs’ faces did nothing to ease Sam’s worries.

“You look pretty beat, Sam... Go rest...” Thunder’s hand tightened on his. “Then you pick up the trail... find Farsight and save her.”