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his movements jerky and unnatural.

“What are you doing, Buck?” asks the stout man, still holding up the unconscious Astrid.

Buck slowly lifts the gun and aims toward the shorter man, his face contorted with his effort to resist my control.

“That’s loaded, cut it out,” says the stout man as he drops Astrid. She crumples to the ground, blood streaming from her nose and several cuts.

“Run, man,” says Buck. “I can’t help it.”

I hesitated with the mugger when I held my knife at his back. He almost killed Sunny and me because of it. I didn’t shoot the prison guard, and he called for help. Their drones nearly murdered us all. I never wanted to be a killer, but I’m not hesitating anymore. Anyone that threatens me or my friends dies.

“Chim, make him shoot his partner,” I say, indicating my target.

The stout man turns to run, but Buck fires three times in his back. The man collapses, blood flowing from the wounds.

“Chim, target the controlled man’s head.”

The man’s arm begins to move. He grits his teeth, and his hand shakes as he struggles against my control. The gun slides closer to his head, the whites of his eyes showing. “No, no. Don’t do it. I didn’t have a choice.”

Lies. Go to hell. “Chim, fire.”

The gun bangs. The man drops.

I run over to Astrid. She’s badly beaten and unconscious but still breathing.

From inside, someone says, “Go check out those gunshots.”

My whole life, I would have run at this point to save myself. But maybe I was doing it wrong. In Silent City, I was heroic like Alexander. I’m not going to let him, Astrid, or Americus die…assuming the guys are still alive.

I rip the gun from the dead man’s hand, my lips curling in disgust at his bloody skull. I dive behind a dumpster before his partners come, then check the gun’s magazine to find plenty of ammo. My dizziness is gone, leaving just a dull throb in my head. I aim the pistol chest-level at the door.

A masked man appears in the doorway, his gun lowered. I fire two rounds into his unprotected chest, just like I practiced with Alexander. He grunts and falls to the ground. His gun clatters next to him.

I sprint to the edge of the door and hold my pistol ready. I remember the countless times that as StarFeather, I executed these same movements. “Chim, access my sonar program,” I whisper.

A holographic map appears with the people inside represented as gridlines. Most people lie around the edges. Two are lying nearby with two men standing over them, guns pointed.

It must be Americus and Alexander.

“Just grab them, and let’s get out of here,” says one of the attackers. “Drones or police could come soon.”

“We won’t have any problems with them,” says another.

“Still, let’s just leave. These two are enough.”

So they’re alive. Good.

“No, you idiot, we need the girl too,” says the other.

Why me?

Two of the men creep toward my location. I whip around the doorway, aim, and shoot with no hesitation. One bullet in the first man, two in the second, and then two more into the first to be safe. Before they can react, they’re dead on the ground. The remaining two men turn on me, guns ready.

Before I can dive into cover, Americus jumps up and elbows the one attacker’s head. The man’s neck twists, and his eyes roll back. The other whirls on Americus, his gun whipping around.

Americus hits the end of the weapon with one hand and the back of the attacker’s wrist with the other, and suddenly, the gun is in his hands. Americus fires five times into the man’s chest.

Diablo, that was amazing. I’m definitely asking him to teach me.

Alexander recovers his revolver as he rubs his head.

“I don’t know how you managed it, but thanks for the save, Fae,” says Americus. “Where’s Astrid.”

I pick up my nine-millimeter that lies nearby. “She’s hurt bad outside.”

Americus growls, his eyebrows knitting together. Two more men come bursting through the front door. Alexander lifts his gun, his long hair swaying. He fires two smooth shots. Both men lose an eye and their lives.

“Fae, get this food loaded,” says Americus. “Alexander, go get Astrid.”

Americus grabs the man that he knocked out and throws him over his shoulder. “It’s time we study the Evo and see if we can find weaknesses. The drones will be here soon. Get moving.”

I grab our full cart. It’s heavy, so it takes me a second to build up momentum. Other people scream and grab food as they run for the exit. One woman runs by with several bags of nacho chips. I shake my head at the ridiculousness of it. As soon as people exit with unpaid food, the alarm blares.

Americus and I burst outside past two prone guards. I toss their rifles into the cart and keep running. On the way, I scan the clear sky for drones and the promise of death. Come on Alexander. Hurry.

Americus heaves the unconscious man into our military SUV. “Stay here, Fae. I’ll get the other cart.”

Alexander helps Astrid jog over, and moments later, Americus has the second cart. We all throw in the food, then jump into the vehicle. Americus steps on the accelerator, and the smell of burning rubber wafts around me.

“Alexander, stun him and initiate a signal jammer,” says Americus. “I don’t want anyone tracking him.”

Alexander shocks the man, zip ties his arms, puts a hood on him, then activates a small device. He takes out a med-kit and treats Astrid’s wounds, with gentle precision.

I shake my head, trying to erase the images of the men beating Astrid and then of me killing them.

“Fae.”

It doesn’t work. I see the chunky man’s brains leaking on the street, and his

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