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kids be. If they were to be placed on the butcher block, then so be it. Traded into slavery? Well, at least some would live.

She let out a scream.

No, she couldn’t fold, couldn’t let those kids be traded away to Death or a life in chains. She didn’t need to know their names to care. She looked down at the huge, gentle Lion she’d grown so fond of. Abdu had saved her to save the kids. She needed to honor his sacrifice. “Might have been better if you’d saved yourself, friend. But if this is the way the chips have fallen, I’ll do it. For you.”

She scrounged in the dark, trying to locate Abdu’s rifle. She felt the tip of the muzzle, kicked rocks off of it, and strapped it over her shoulder. She climbed the rocks to the opening, taking one last look down at the dark silhouette on the ground. “Thank you, Abdu. You’re a true warrior.” She dipped her head in respect and blew a kiss his way. “You saved my life and now I’m going to save some others.”

She crawled through the opening and made her way down the rocks. She dusted herself off, then dashed forward and through a vein in the tunnel that led to the entrance.

It was quiet when she made it outside, and cold as hell. The wind buffeting off the snow, shoving an even bigger chill across her body. It was night, and she could see the glow of Slade’s city beyond the hills. She took a step forward, heading for the children.

22

E-Quadrant, Solar System - Whitefish, Montana

Drew dashed into the basement and grabbed the phaser and nudged a snoring Carl with his foot

Carl opened his eyes, grunted a few incoherent phrases, smacked his lips together, and went back to sleep.

Shit upstairs was getting real and dangerous. Drew did not have time to coddle some crashed-out stoner, but he didn’t want to leave the dude in the basement with purple-blooded aliens on the rampage, either.

Wapoooo! Wapoooo!

Megan’s scream made the hairs on the back of his neck stand to attention. The sound of her rifle clattering to the floor didn’t do much for him either. Drew turned and rushed to the staircase, his phaser at the ready. He ran up the first set of stairs and came to the landing and halted. He had no clue what Andrea’s bodyguards were doing, though he could hear them stomping around the bar. He didn’t want to race in and get splatted. He poked his head around the corner. A guard bent to pick up Megan’s rifle.

“Don’t think about it,” yelled Drew, slowly walking up the steps, the stairs creaking at each footfall.

The guard kicked Megan’s rifle across the room and backed away.

Drew couldn’t see Megan. He took another step up. “Megan?”

Andrea walked into view.

“Megan?”

“I’m here,” Megan’s voice was weak.

“Are you alright?” asked Drew, taking another step up. He still couldn’t see her, but her voice told him she was at the far end of the bar.

The guard inched backwards, toward Megan.

Drew trained his weapon on the guy, and again, the guy halted.

“I’ve been better. I’ve got a few flesh wounds is all. They shot me twice.”

He took another step up. “Where did they hit you?”

“Arm and leg.”

He stepped onto the last stair, seeing Megan on her knees out of the corner of his eye. She was against a wall, clutching her bicep. Blood was dripping down her elbow and to the wooden floor. Her leg was injured too, though it looked like nothing more than a scrape wound.

Drew side stepped toward her, his phaser not moving from the guard. “All three of you, leave.”

“Not without you, Drew,” came Andrea. Her eyes were full of worry. She either was a great actress—like Academy-Award-level good at faking it—or was genuinely concerned about what had just happened. “She was about to pull the trigger, Drew.”

Megan shook her head, her eyes throwing darts of fury at Andrea’s head. “The hell I was.”

Drew bent down next to Megan. “Let’s get you downstairs and bandaged up.”

The stairs creaked. Drew froze and looked up.

P-taff!

A rifle shot. The mirror behind the bar shattered. Drew ducked and Megan fell into him, alarmed.

The guards twisted around, wild eyed, and took aim at the stairs.

Wapoooo! Wapoooo! Wapoooo! Wapoooo!

They sent phaser bolt after phaser bolt as Carl took a step up at the top of the staircase and into view. Phaser charges slammed into his chest and he lurched backwards.

“No, Carl,” shouted Megan, her arm outstretched.

Carl grunted, and the sounds of his body tumbling down the stairs rebounded across the bar.

Drew slumped, knowing the guy was dead. No way could he have survived so many shots to the chest.

Megan scrambled to her feet, her eyes wet with tears. She raced to the staircase. She covered her mouth, her other arm hanging by her side, bloody and useless, and sobbed.

“Put that gun down, Drew,” said Andrea, her hands out. “I’m sorry for Carl. I really am.”

Drew slowly stood. He shifted his gun’s aim on Andrea. “Who are you, really?”

Andrea stepped back, more sorrow in her eyes, more incredible acting accolades in her future. “I am just a friend of your parents. We worked together. They were like parents to me, Drew. I’m to keep you safe. It was your mother’s last wish.”

“Carl’s dead,” hollered Megan. She reappeared at the top of the stairs, her face wild with grief. “Who…why would you do this? The guy wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

The guard by the front entrance marched into the middle of the room and thrust his gun at Megan. “She’s deadweight. We don’t have enough medics to deal with her. We need to get out of here. Now.” He closed one eye and focused his sights on Megan. “Bye.”

Wapoooo!

Drew dropped his gun, stunned. The guard collapsed. Drew’s mouth gaped open. He didn’t mean to. It just happened. He had tapped the trigger, blasting phaser fire into the guard’s chest, killing him instantly.

Wapoooo! Wapoooo!

Drew’s shoulder whipped back and

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