19Sunset descends over the world, lighting the sky in streaks of gold, yellow, and rose. A soft drizzle falls, barely more than a mist, and through the distant haze, a domed gray building rises in the north. Even without the map to confirm its identity, I would know what it is.

I crouch with the others in a stretch of trees a few hundred yards inside the shield-line. After a week of hard hiking, we’ve finally made it to our destination at the southeast corner of the settlements. Dead ahead, the shadowy form of the main emergency shelter hunkers within the thinning foliage, while off to our right, water rushes over the rocks like a vengeful storm—the Shoqua, Iolanthe’s longest natural river. Originating a few thousand klicks to the north, it flows down along the eastern edge of town, wending its way around Settlement 1 to flow past the spaceport and along Settlement 5 before continuing its way southward toward the sea some five hundred klicks away. It is this hub, that we set our sights on during those desperate hours at the lazaretto, and now, against all odds, we’ve made it.

Tilting my face to the wind, I draw in a deep breath, heart quickening as the tang of fresh water meets my nostrils. This river is more than just a river; it’s the key to our salvation. Across those gushing currents awaits our future home, a secret bower hidden deep within the forest’s embrace, far out of the way of either ghouls or squatters. The emergency shelter before us, though vital, is only a stepping stone to our true destination. If we can just get the supplies we need and make it to the bower, the safety we so desperately need could be ours.

I eye the narrow band of blue with trepidation. Beautiful as it is, I have no illusions regarding the river’s dangers. Not only is the rushing current swift and aggressive, it’s watched over by all sorts of creatures, each one more perilous than the last. Razorwings, highly territorial birds with knifelike beaks and jagged feathers; about a dozen different varieties of water snake, all poisonous; and of course, the Tellurian crocodile, a creature so deadly even Iolanthe couldn’t find a way to mutate it into something more dangerous. Only a fool would risk swimming this part of the river; if the current didn’t get them, the animals would. Luckily, there’s another option.

Magnifying my combat lenses, I peer downriver. Tucked away against the water, almost out of eyeshot, is the bridge. I found it after reviewing hours of survey footage, an ancient structure from the early days of colonization, so old it’s no longer listed on any map. Except for its distance from the bunker, it’s the perfect escape route. Let the squatters come! As long as we can make it across that bridge, we can melt away into the forest before they even know what’s hit them. If not . . .

I stop, unwilling to think about the alternative. I can’t afford to fail. Behind me wait the others, thirty-four in all, each one trusting in my plan, each one trusting in me. It’s a risk to bring them all into the emergency shelter—one wrong move, and we could be wiped out in one fell swoop—but I promised them the world, and for stars or vacuum, I’m going to do everything in my power to give it to them. The responsibility is awesome, the consequences terrible if I fail, but rather than fear, all I feel is elation. For the first time since we fled into this roiling jungle—no, for the first time since Lia’s death—I’m the one in control. I’m in charge of my destiny. I get to decide who lives and who dies. It’s a hell of a feeling, and one I’m not feeling alone. All around me, the others whisper and fidget as they wait for my signal, but though fear and uncertainty pervade their every word, I also hear something else, something I haven’t heard from these people in a long time.

I hear hope.

A ray of sunshine flashes through the trees, glittering through the mist in a million tiny rainbows, and for a moment, it doesn’t feel like sunset but sunrise—not an end, but a beginning.

Now it’s time to find out if that’s true.

The rich rose gold of first sunset soon gives way to the paler rays of half-light. Shadows fall across the world, their shapes strange and misshapen now that Avelaine has gone to bed and only her distant sister remains to light our way through the dark. Off in the forest, the earliest of the night creatures have just begun to stir, and in their distant calls I can hear the sinking of the sun as she goes along her way.

With a quick word to the others, I nod to Mercury, and together we go, jogging through the long grass toward the facility. Our shadows stretch out before us in elongated blurs, rippling eerily in time with our steps across the deserted plain—an unnatural sight after days in the thick forest. I crane my neck this way and that, sniffing convulsively as I search for the smallest sign that this abandoned place along the shield-line is not so abandoned after all. That our enemies lurk, not within eyeshot, but within soul-shot.

We make it to the shelter in a minute flat, and if any Specs are about, they don’t make themselves known. That doesn’t stop me from continuing to scan my useless eyes over the area behind us in a human habit that, despite all knowledge to the contrary, refuses to die. Sweat slicks down my back, and my heart pounds with a strange mix of terror and elation. I force in a couple of deep breaths, drumming my fingers nervously along my thigh as Mercury examines the door. All sorts of doubts are running through my head, and I wish I had some sort of backup plan in case Mercury fails to get us in.

Or a shiver of ghouls suddenly shows up.

A low buzz sounds from the panel at Mercury’s fingertips. A moment later, the outer door whispers open. I lift my eyes to his in silent question.

He shakes his head. “I couldn’t disable the security signal without cutting the door control, but I was able to jack the identity code.”

“Meaning?”

“They’ll know someone broke into a shelter, but they’ll think it’s a different one. If we’re lucky, they’ll investigate the other shelter, find nothing, and assume it’s a false alarm.”

“And if not?”

“They’ll figure out my trick and come looking.”

I frown, not loving the answer but realizing it’s the best we’re going to do. “I guess we’d better be quick, then.” I motion to the others still hanging back in the trees. Let’s go!

Though similar in layout to the last emergency shelter, this one is significantly bigger, with supplies allocated over three full floors. Once inside, I don’t waste a second, immediately pulling up the bunker’s schematics and dispatching everyone to their assigned places.

“Listen up! We’ve got exactly fifteen minutes to load up as much stuff as we can carry and get out. You should all have your lists of assigned supplies.” I wait while everyone flashes their respective lists, digitized across their chit hands, before continuing. “Good! Make sure you only grab what’s on your list. Remember, you’re packing for the group, not yourself! Vida, you’re in charge of the girls, and Trey, you’ve got the guys. Make sure everyone’s only taking what’s on their list, and that they can handle their loads. Zane, Xylla, Gavin: You’re on lookout! You see any sign of movement in our direction, and you link me. Any questions? Okay, go!”

Everyone immediately scatters, the girls heading for the racks of clothing and consumables while the guys fan out toward the heavier supplies like aero-launchers and outdoor gear. Megumi is off and running for the med-kits while Mercury and Hegit hit the tech supplies. I watch them for a minute to ensure everyone is on task, then head to the nearest console, where I log in with my terraformer profile and make a quick scan of the database. Settings, inventory, security, floor plan—nothing particularly special, just the same basics at the last emergency shelter.

I glance at my chit. Four minutes down, eleven to go.

My heart quickens as I realize how quickly the time is going. Realizing I’m unlikely to find anything of use in the console, I log off and take another glance around the room. Everyone is stuffing items into their bags as quickly as they can get ahold of them. Satisfied all is in hand, I spare a moment to check in with my sentries.

“Nothing yet.”

“All clear here.”

“Everything’s sat.”

Unable to help myself, I check the time once again. Two more minutes gone, nine left.

With the clock ticking down, I link Mercury and head to my self-appointed destination, a small room on the other end of the main floor.

Though the rest of the doors stand open, this one is locked—not that I’m surprised. I stand at Mercury’s shoulder while he goes to work on the control pad, watching as the minutes continue to tick down.

*00:08:06*

*00:07:35*

*00:06:14*

Solar-flits flutter in my stomach, though I’m not sure what it is that scares me more: the possibility that the door won’t open . . . or the possibility that it will.

Before I can rethink my decision, Mercury mutters under his breath and keys something into the panel. The indicator light changes from red to blue, and then the doors slither apart with a whisper. Mercury’s mouth drops open.

We’ve found the armory.

Guns, ammo, explosives—you name it, it’s here. I stride into the room, my nerves eclipsed by triumph as I survey the racks of weaponry before me. Mercury hovers just outside the entrance, a curious mix of shock and dismay on this face. After a moment, he edges in after me, though it’s clear from his posture that he’s only following me with the greatest reluctance.

He looks around uncertainly. “How did you know?”

“That there was an armory?” I shrug and grab a box of power cartridges from a shelf. “It seemed obvious. The main storage areas contain supplies of every type you could imagine except for weapons. Spectre tech, yes; standard weapons, no. As TruCon was so fastidious about stocking the shelters, it seemed unlikely that they missed basic munitions. Therefore, it stood to reason that there must be a separate storage area specifically for weapons. All I had to do was check the floor plan.”

Ten minutes down, five remaining.

Heart pounding, I grab a demo charge from the rack. Simple and stable, these can be paired with your chit and detonated at your command. Though their scope is limited, they should be more than enough for what I intend. I only find half a dozen—they’re probably only here in case of a natural disaster or structural emergency—but I toss what they have into my bag, followed by some telescoping riot batons, several machetes of varying sizes, three dozen stunners, and enough power cartridges to power them all for the next three wars. By the time I’m done, I’ve filled up both of the bags I brought, along with two-thirds of Mercury’s backpack. Only after I’ve stowed everything safely away do I reach for one final weapon.

A decimator.

A rush of excitement hits me as I cradle the cool black barrel in my hands. Though the slim black weapon looks exactly like a stunner, it differs from its sister in one key way.

Unlike a stunner, a decimator can kill.

Uncertainty grips me for the first time since walking in here. I mainly grabbed the explosives for utility purposes, but a decimator . . .

There’s only one reason to grab that.

I bite my lip and contemplate the weapon in my hands. With our adversaries made up of ghouls and squatters, stunners should be enough. Everyone knows what happens when you kill a squatter, after all. Better not to take the risk. However, the jungle is full of predators, and from the brief look I got at the squatters who came after us at the last shelter, our enemy is well armed and armored. Somehow, I doubt they’re sticking to stunners alone. The only way to fight fire is with fire, and I want to fight—for my friends, my family, my life. The question is: How far am I willing to go?

Far enough.

My indecision melts away in an instant, trumped by the cold hard determination to steal whatever, do whatever, kill whoever dares to get in my way. I shove the decimator into my bag, adrenaline charging like a river through my veins, then grab three more. As I go to stick the final weapon in my bag, I pause. Setting down my backpack, I reach for a power cart on a nearby rack.

Snick.

The cartridge slides into the decimator like oiled silk, clicking into place with a tangible satisfaction. I check to make sure the safety’s on, then, after a slight pause, reluctantly slide the settings catch to stun. Just because a decimator can kill doesn’t mean it has to. Lifting the back of my shirt, I’m about to tuck the decimator into my waistband when I catch a glimpse of Mercury’s face. I answer his wide-eyed expression with a single finger to my lips.

Shh.

The decimator settles comfortably against the small of my back, and if anything, Mercury’s eyes only go wider. His mouth flaps helplessly, but after a few seconds, he nods in reluctant agreement. Good. The fewer people who know about the decimators, the better.

While Mercury seals up the door, I check the time once more.

*00:01:54*

Nearly two minutes left. That should allow us just enough time to finish up and get out. Shouldering one bag, I reach for the other—

Bzzzt!

“Teal? Teal!” Zane’s voice practically bursts out of my chit. Fear washes over me at his evident alarm, but it’s his next words that truly freeze my blood.

“We’ve got company.”