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the fifty-caliber snipers that TigerShadow liked in Silent City, but it was more than enough to take down the lightly armored LR7 Defense Drones.

I know that he was understating how hard it is to run and aim the thing since I’ve tried it in-game. And yet, he only missed once.

He’s young but older than I am. Maybe nineteen. It’s strange. I don’t know if I’m deluding myself, but he kind of looks like Jack Trackton…except for his eyes. Jack’s are disarming and make him look non-threatening and boyish. Alexander’s are like an eagle’s eyes, sharp and commanding. The combination of that and his rough look make me wary of him, but then again, I’m wary of everyone.

I take a slow breath and sense the world around me, the hum of our SUV, the smell of recently cut grass from someone’s lawn, and the sharp pain in my arm. Life has never been very good for me, but almost dying changes things. At this moment, I let it all touch me, even the pain in my arm and my recent horrors. I welcome any experience over empty darkness.

Alexander reaches into a side pocket and pulls out a pouch. “Let me look at your wound.”

“Thank you.” I suppose I am a little lightheaded.

“I’ll put a bullet patch on it, which will stop the bleeding, accelerate your healing, and numb the pain. It should be fine in a week.”

I move the bunched-up shirt away, and warm blood drips down my prison jumpsuit. I unzip it and pull it down to expose my shoulder.

“You’re tough. You’ll make an excellent addition to the team.”

I doubt I’ll be staying around, but I say nothing.

He moves a strand of wet hair out of his face and asks, “What’s your name, anyway?”

“Fae.”

He applies the patch to my wound. “Fae. Ah, like the fairy realm.”

I grit my teeth at the pain. “What?”

“It’s nothing. I’m going to top you off with synthetic blood. Looks like you lost a bunch.”

I nod, and wince as he injects me with a needle.

When he’s done, he says, “Here, have some water.”

I take several large gulps, happy to rehydrate.

He raises his q-link and calls someone. “We saved them, Boss, and we’re on our way.”

“Is Naveha okay?” asks a man on the other end.

“She wasn’t hurt. The small one has a minor injury, but it’s nothing to worry about. We’ll see you soon.”

The small one? That was rude.

“Keep your wits about you,” says the other man. “Don’t take any risks.”

“Well, that was crazy,” says Alexander. “Let’s save the discussion until we’re back with Americus, though. Let me introduce you to everyone, Fae. Oh, first, do you need anything more for the pain?”

I shake my head. It’s bad, much worse than when my demon foster brother shot me with a pellet gun, but nothing I can’t handle.

“Tough. I knew it. The driver is Weird Tom. He’s an ancient alien theorist and a stickler for rules.”

The man with the six-inch beard and long bushy hair grunts. “It’s Thomas. He’s right about the aliens, though. Did you know that aliens taught ancient Egyptians how to make light bulbs? There’s evidence in the hieroglyphics. I could tell you things that would blow your mind.”

I discount the alien stuff, but interestingly, he’s not wearing a q-link, and I know he doesn’t have the Evo since he didn’t go crazy.

Alexander spirals his finger at his temple, where Tom can’t see it. “Riding shotgun. That’s Asher. He’s a ninja, but I still have the edge in hand to hand combat.”

A forty-something man with thick eyebrows and big ears waves. “You know I’m better than you, Alexander.”

Alexander shakes his head to me. “In the middle up there, that’s Astrid. She’s second in command to Americus and a powerlifter. Almost beat me at arm wrestling once.”

She turns around, and her exposed muscular shoulders speak volumes. “Hello, Fae. He’s never beaten me,” she says over the rush of the wind.

“And next to Naveha is Yumi,” says Alexander. “She’s newer. She plays a mean harmonica though…and she thinks Astrid is pretty.”

Yumi’s pale face blushes a bright red, and she shuts her dark eyes.

I envy her straight black hair. Mine always becomes a frizzy mess in humidity, and God forbid, I have to run from tons of lunatics in the rain.

Astrid glances back at Yumi with a slight smile on her angular face.

Alexander motions a hand toward me. “Everyone, this is Sprite.”

“It’s Fae.”

“Yeah, that’s what I said.”

Nav whispers in my ear, “just ignore him.”

It’s kind of hard because he talks so much, but I’ll do my best.

“What’s that little robot for?” asks Alexander, his long wavy hair blowing behind him.

I hold Sunny tighter.

“He’s too small to even carry your gear. Why didn’t you leave it?”

I can’t believe he’d suggest such a thing. “I like him.”

“What is he…one of those children’s toys?”

I lower my head, feeling even smaller than I already am.

“Alexander, enough,” says Nav.

He shrugs.

Twenty minutes later, we pull up to a building. A large metal gate rises, and we drive in.

Nav leans near my ear. “When you meet Americus, don’t get upset. He can be a grouch.”

Inside, it’s some kind of expansive warehouse. Crates and ammo boxes line one wall. The smell of well-seasoned meat drifts over from a kitchen area.

I crinkle my nose.

Ten or so people in various styles of clothes cheer, clap, and whistle as we drive by. Alexander stands and raises his big rifle above his head with a huge grin.

“You did it Alexander!” says a gray-haired man.

“Like Navin, himself,” shouts a plump woman in camouflaged shorts.

Hell, they love him. Maybe that’s why he’s so cocky.

We park next to several military vehicles, and everyone but me

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