The Rogue reloads her bow and points it at me. Her Offside raises his rifle, a large and heavy human rifle. I have seen these kill us.
I dive to the side, pushing the girl with the half arm out of my way as I sprint into the trees. I hear them crashing after me. I should stop and assure them I won’t tell anyone where they are. That’s what they think, that I’ll report them to the high ranks, but I won’t. I don’t think I will. I don’t want to. What would I say?
I hear the ping of an arrow being released and twist in time to catch a glint of starlight on its metal shaft. My hand lashes out, sending the arrow spinning into the dark as I run.
The trees begin to clear, and the sky beyond them is the deep blue color of shadows on lakes. It will swallow me if I can . . .
The cliff beneath me falls away just as I hear a rifle’s loud crack. I land hard, falling forward and rolling over another edge and down to rocks and ice. Turning onto my back, I can make out the silhouettes of the Rogues, peering over the cliff, their weapons still raised. I lie still, not even breathing. If they think I’m dead or badly damaged they will probably leave me.
After a long time they slip back behind the cliff face, one by one, until only the leader remains. She lingers there watching me until I’m taking tiny stolen breaths and trying to resist the urge to stand and move. The fluid flows through me, pulsing relief where the fall left bruises. But it also makes me jittery, longing to get up and move, to walk, to run, to keep moving.
Dart the humans. Leave them where they fall.
After the last Rogue finally retreats, I wait, letting the stars drift across a swath of sky, before sitting up. My head throbs where I hit it on the rocks, and the fluid flowing through there leaves empty spaces behind it, lost thoughts and memories. What was I doing up in the mountains? The answer to that question flickers like a dying flame as I clamber to my knees. I wait there, feeling the stiffness in my armor and limbs release. By the time I move, the sky is lightening in the east, over the flat land back toward the city, so I walk in that direction.
I find a squadron just after dawn, boarding their transports on the shore of a frozen pond. Falling in beside two others, who I think might be low ranks, like me, I board with them. They reload their rifles. I hope they don’t notice mine doesn’t need reloading.
I’m not sure why I’m here. There’s something I’ve forgotten. My head hurts, and my hand hurts, burns inside my armored glove, despite the fluid. I wrap my thoughts around the pain and cling to it, to the reason I stuck my hand in the fire in the first place.
A human girl, and something about our mission. And the Rogues and Sixth, and the reason my rifle doesn’t need reloading. And the human girl. And pine needles. Spiderwebs.
And the human girl. The human girl. The thought of her gets so big I can’t think of anything else.
RAVEN
Another video party starts right after I choke down a few bites of flavorless porridge for breakfast. Liam strolls over, whispers something in Mandy’s ear, and leaves.
“You coming?” she says to me, as she gets up to follow him.
“Are you sure you want an audience?”
Mandy rolls her eyes. “Don’t be gross,” she says. “We’re going to watch videos.”
I trail after her, wondering what pointless action movie has drawn not only me and Mandy, but also Topher and Xander, to Liam’s quarters. A large-screen laptop is open on his desk. Mandy and I slump into the lower bunk. Topher squashes in beside me. He turns his head half in my direction.
“Sorry,” he whispers, so quietly it sounds like a snake taking a breath. “I didn’t . . . I shouldn’t have . . .” But before he can finish, Xander dives into the bed, threads his head between us, and rests his chin on my thigh.
“I bet you’re the only one here without a ball-shrinking headache,” he says.
“I don’t have balls,” I remind him.
“I’ve heard otherwise.”
Mandy snorts beside me as Liam turns and gives me an appraising look. He clicks a few things on the laptop until a media player comes up.
“I hear you’re not crazy about the videos,” he says to me.
Nahx videos? This is what they were watching last night? And here I thought it would be James Bond or something. “I don’t see the point of them. Just a whole lot of death and destruction. Who wants to watch their team lose?”
It’s like some personal development teacher suddenly possesses him. “It’s complicated, but the point of watching the early NKVs was to learn as much as possible about the enemy. How they operate, what their weaknesses are. Admittedly, the thing we learned first was that they were utterly ruthless. But even that was useful. That is what feeds the resistance. Understand?” He clicks a few things on the computer, pausing a video and making it full screen.
“What’s an NKV?” I ask.
“Nahx kill video,” Xander says. He has produced a bag of raisins from somewhere. His chewing makes his whole head wobble on my thigh. “Remember in the early days, how those dudes were always trying to get a video of someone taking one out? Wait till you see these new ones, Rave. They’re wicked.”
At first when the video plays, it’s hard to recognize what I’m seeing. Dark figures on a blurry background go in and out of focus. As the picture quality improves I realize it is a group of four Nahx picking their way down a steep embankment. The two larger Nahx walk with one hand on the shoulders of the smaller ones. The video has no sound, so there is nothing but Xander’s chewing to accompany what happens next. One of the larger Nahx jerks backward, its free hand grabbing at its throat. As it falls, it pulls the smaller Nahx down with it.
The other two Nahx fall to their knees with their rifles raised and begin firing. The camera rolls and falls and the picture goes dark. There follows a slow-motion recap that shows a spray of something black as the Nahx gets shot in the neck. Blood?
Liam pauses the video. “That was the first confirmed sniper kill ever, about two weeks after the invasion,” he says. “Hunting rifle and deer killer bullet right in the neck. The cameraman paid for that one with his life. But that’s how we know that they don’t get up from a shot to the neck.”
Emily appears in the doorway as Liam scrolls through a list on the laptop.
“Oooh, are there new ones?” she says, curling up on the floor in front of Topher’s legs. I glance over at his face, noting his blush and his tense posture. He’s always been a bit cool with Emily. I never thought anything of it before. But now . . . God.
It’s true. He was telling the truth.