The apartment was full of stuff, and I hated every second of digging through it. By the time I was ready to leave the first room, I’d found jewelry, electronics, and decorations that all looked like they could be valuable to Drenvar. I decided to stick to jewelry only, because I could fit more of it in the small bag. After I’d sifted through the drawers of every dresser and nightstand, I moved to the next apartment.

The Reaper stayed at the door as I climbed over the overturned furniture. The walls were peppered with holes, as were the couch and bed, which had been pushed up close to the doorway, like whoever was in the room had tried to barricade it. It was all toppled over now, and I picked through the pieces of silver and gold jewelry on the ground. It took me a while, but when I was sure I hadn’t missed anything, I started for the third apartment.

If the first two had been messy, this one was a landfill. Furniture was everywhere; their contents spread over the carpet flooring. Clothes were scattered all over it. I scanned the room, my eyes catching flashes of light reflecting off shiny metal and stones, until they settled on a blue shirt too small to be worn by an adult. More clothes trailed to a corner, where toys were destroyed and thrown everywhere. I didn’t go in. I turned and kept going to the next one.

The fourth apartment was much cleaner. I wondered if they’d been gone during this raid. A part of me hoped so. I followed a hallway to the bedroom, opening a jewelry box on top of a dresser. Necklaces hung from a hook, and I took a few off, choosing the shiniest ones, replacing the rest where they’d been before. The rings and earrings at the bottom of the box gave me plenty of options. I looked for the biggest ones, but chose the gold ones over the others, figuring they would sell for more, especially since gold was used more in the Char. I shut the jewelry box and saw Cory standing in the doorway of the bedroom.

“Just grab the entire box,” he said.

“Not all of it is that nice. I can fit more if I’m picky.”

He shook his head. “You don’t have time for that.”

“Aren’t we safe here?” I asked, motioning to the Reaper at the front of the apartment. As bad as they were, I didn’t see anyone attacking this place because of them.

“Blitzers like to get revenge. Especially lately. I don’t want to be here if they do.”

A gunshot sounded from the ceiling above us.

“Plus…” he trailed off.

I took his advice, grabbing whole boxes from the next bedroom. My little bag filled much faster, and two apartments later, it was full, barely zipping, the straps pulling on my shoulders. Metal clinked with every step I took.

“Cory! New kid! Time to go,” Tatum yelled a minute later. We met on the front steps. Both my and Cory’s bags were full, but Tatum’s was close to popping, the fabric stretched, the teeth of his zippers hanging on for dear life. They didn’t shine as bright as the ones in his mouth, which were visible in his giant smile.

“Not sure about you boys, but I’m making out like a bandit!”

That’s what we are.

He tapped on his holotab, calling for a group extraction for the three of us. A map appeared on my wrist, showing the pickup point a half mile away from us, the Hummingbird scheduled to arrive in close to twenty minutes. The location was much further than my first extraction; I wondered if they didn’t want to interfere with the Reapers here in the Blitz.

It took us half of the extraction countdown to reach the location we’d be picked up at. It’d been uneventful, but still, Tatum had us stay alert. The rain had started again when we’d gotten far enough away from the apartments. The radar on my holotab showed we were outside of the clear ring, and now it held steady as a light drizzle.

This area had been hit harder by the bombs. We sat under the doorway of what had once been an office building, but had been hit by an explosion, leaving a hole in the side. The steps faced an intersection that had been cleared, creating a landing pad just big enough for the small helicopters to land. Other tall buildings sat on the corners of the other streets.

I looked at the windows, not sure if my brain was playing tricks on me, or if there were shadows watching us. I’d see movement from a missing window, only to look and see nothing but the dark interior.

Except for one. The silhouette of a human leaned against a windowsill, unmoving. After a minute, I’d convinced myself it was a figment of my imagination. It was until Tatum pointed his rifle at it that it moved, ducking back into the building.

“I didn’t know of any Blitzer communities out here,” he said.

“Probably scouts,” Cory answered him. He looked down at his holotab, checking the time until the Hummingbird arrived. “Probably want revenge.”

“I’d like to see them try,” Tatum said as he lowered the rifle.

They kept talking, but I tuned them out, staring at my hands in my lap, looking at the faint red tint the light cast on my fingers. My mouth tasted like the metal in my bag, each swallow burning the back of my throat, making me want to puke. I balled my fists, digging my nails into my skin until my eyes watered.

We heard the faint whine of the Hummingbird a few seconds later. Cory tapped my leg as he stood, saying, “It doesn’t get easier, but it gets you closer to getting out of here.”

How could it get easier? I’d stolen from people right after they'd been attacked by the Reapers. I was no better than FATE. Worse, I was FATE.

No, I’m not. I didn’t sign up for this. I didn’t kill them.

You just took everything they had afterwards.

The engine of the helicopter sounded over the storm, the rotors thundering overhead of the tall office buildings. I still stared at the ground, not getting up.

“How much did you need for your brother?” I heard Tatum ask.

“This will give me the rest,” Cory answered. I stood, shaking my right leg, which had fallen asleep from my elbow pressing into it while we were sitting.

“How much did you get?” Tatum asked now.

“A lot. So did you.”

The helicopter was right overhead, hovering over the intersection, beginning its slow descent.

“Give me the bag,” Tatum said.

“Good one. I’m getting my brother out tonight.”

I looked up as Tatum pointed his gun at the other extractor. My feet stopped, stuck in place on the front steps.

Cory stopped too as Tatum stepped closer to him. “Dude, you can have whatever is left.”

“Give me the bag,” Tatum repeated. “I’ll have more than enough to join Quinten. Who knows, I may even pass him for the top spot.”

“Who cares about all that? You mean nothing to them.”

Tatum rolled his eyes behind the scope on his rifle. “You don’t understand it. You’re too worried about your brother. FATE grabbed him to bring you here. You’re supposed to be here; you’re part of their future. How do you not see that?”

“You’re insane, man,” Cory said, stepping forward. Tatum stepped forward to meet him. I stepped backward, almost tripping on the stairs.

“Give me the bag. Keep your hands off your gun.”

Cory slid the straps down his arms, shifting the bag into his right hand, holding it by his side.

“Just hand it over,” Tatum said. “Don’t-”

He was cut short when Cory threw the bag at him, charging right behind it. The backpack slammed into the rifle, knocking the barrel into the air as the gun went off, the sound earsplitting.

It didn’t stop the two extractors. They wrestled for control of the weapon, trying to hit each other with knees, feet, and anything else that would give them an advantage. I stood frozen in place, a spectator to the deadly duel.

Tatum quickly gained an advantage. He ripped the rifle out of Cory’s hands, who lunged again to grab it. An elbow slammed into the side of his face, the rifle firing a second later. Cory’s body jerked, and he stumbled backwards a few steps, then fell to the ground, his arms still reaching for the weapon.

The ringing in my ears wasn’t enough to drown out my terrified breathing. Tatum looked at the boy on the ground and sighed in frustration. I took another step backward, my heel landing on concrete rubble, grinding them together, making a crunching sound that felt like it was louder than it would’ve been if I’d thrown it off the top of the building. Tatum’s eyes flicked up to me.

I’m so dead.

I took some panic shuffles backward until the large, double-door entryway appeared. Tatum’s weapon rose again, this time pointed at my chest.

Just as the first crack emitted from it, my foot caught on rubble that had fallen into the lobby from an upper floor. I tumbled over backward, the air hissing as the bullet meant for me whizzed overhead. The gun continued firing outside, punching holes in the wall, spraying dust and rock fragments everywhere.

I had no idea how many times he’d shot. I was curled in the fetal position, my hands over my head. Just as sudden as each loud bang was, they stopped. A weird silence hung over the office lobby.

But not for long. Boots pounded the pavement outside, moving closer at an alarming pace.

Get up! Run!

I scrambled to my feet and to the staircase on the far side of the room. Unfortunately, it’d been hit by falling debris too, taking out the first few steps. I almost twisted an ankle as I leapt, catching the first intact one and falling forward and onto the landing a few steps up.

I’d just looked back to see if I was being chased when rock shards peppered my neck. Tatum was halfway across the lobby, his pistol up and firing in my direction. I ducked out of instinct, racing toward the stairs that would take me higher. I felt a tug on my backpack before I could get out of his line of sight, hearing fabric rip. My hand felt a small hole near the bottom of the bag as I sprinted as fast as I could, taking multiple steps at a time.

I knew I needed to create as much distance between us as I could, then look for a place to hide. Getting on the Hummingbird and flying out didn’t seem possible, but if I could get away, I’d be able to call for another, then hope I was far enough away that he wouldn’t get to me in time.

Three flights of stairs later, I arrived at the level that the bomb had hit. The landing was exposed to the outside, the bottom of the Hummingbird hovering just out of view, no doubt seeing the fighting going on below, deciding to let it play out before landing.

I turned to keep going up, skidding to a stop, almost falling twenty feet back down onto the steps below me. The rest of the stairs were destroyed and in the ruins that I’d weaved through on my way up here.

I faced the rest of the floor. At least, what remained of it. A massive hole was missing, leaving only half of the floor, which was covered in layers of glass, rock, and wreckage. There was a door on my left propped open. Debris had fallen around it, destroying most of the wall beside it, replacing it with gaps that were too small for me to fit through, but wide enough to see the darkness beyond. That was my escape.

I ran toward it. In my periphery, a shadow danced on the other side of the rubble, also racing for it. Just as I reached the door, it slammed shut in my face.

What? How?

I tried the handle. It moved up and down, like the door was unlocked, but something pressed against it, pushing back whenever I did.

What now? I looked out over the intersection. It was at least fifty feet down, with nothing to grab onto before the pavement. Cory was still on the ground, a rifle lying a few feet away from him. From my distance, I didn’t know if it was his or Tatum’s.

Concrete was kicked behind me, skidding against my foot. Tatum was on my level now, his pistol still out, and pointed at me. He breathed hard, his face covered with rage.

I was two steps away from the ledge behind me, out of room and with nowhere to go. “Please, Tatum,” I said. I wanted to throw the bag into the intersection; maybe it would destroy everything. Maybe I’d follow behind it.

He said nothing, his finger squeezing a little tighter around the trigger, his eyes locked onto mine.

Click.

He burst out laughing, almost doubling over. “Oh, man,” he said. “You should see your face.”

He let out another howl, then stopped, his face becoming stone again. “Up close and personal it is.”

I did not like the sound of that.

He shoved his pistol into a holster on his hip, then reached behind him, his hand reappearing with a silver knife.

I did not like the look of it either.

He charged me, the blade out in front, reflecting in the afternoon sun. I fumbled with the pistol in my pocket, not even sure if I could use it if it was out in time.

I never got the chance to find out. I couldn’t get a grip on it before he was right next to me, forcing me to duck away from the knife as it slashed by my face. He grabbed my bag as I tried to sidestep away from the ledge. I heard it rip, the straps loosening on my shoulders, nearly giving out.

He charged again as soon as he recovered. I ducked under a punch, confused why he was swinging the fist that didn’t hold the knife. My question was answered a beat later when the knife came way too close to my face. I slid my body sideways, my eyes already on the stairs. If I could make it to them, I could slip away again, and maybe find a floor that didn’t have a self-closing door.

Just as I thought I was free, Tatum’s leg shot out, tangling with mine, sending me careening to the ground. The straps on my bag ripped and it went flying, rolling on the ground just as I did.

He was on top of me before my momentum stopped. I shielded myself with my arms, doing my best to keep the tip of Tatum’s knife away. Despite his insult earlier, I wasn’t weak; I could hold my own against any of the other kids at school. But this guy wasn’t any of those other kids. Before long, the tip grazed against my cheek, digging in.

I yanked my face to the side. I know exposing my neck wasn’t the smartest thing I could’ve done, but it caught Tatum by surprise, and after making a small cut on the side of my face, the blade slammed into the ground.

I don’t know if it was a change in the wind, a noise, or the fact that I was looking at it with my neck cranked sideways, but I felt the door to my right open. The shadow from earlier appeared through it, now taking the shape of a girl. With one agile leap, she scooped up my bag and took off for the stairs.

She made it only slightly further than I did. Tatum noticed her too, using me to push off of, leaping and grabbing her by the legs.

I rolled onto my stomach. Tatum had the knife to her throat, his legs wrapped around her, preventing her from squirming free. The bag was nowhere to be seen; my guess was somewhere on the stairs. “Who are you?” he yelled. “You think you can steal from me?”

“You stole it first,” she croaked.

“Of course, you’re a filthy Blitzer. That’s a shame; you’re pretty. I was looking for new teammates.”

She spat in his face as a response.

I’m not sure why I didn’t just run. Tatum was busy; the stairs were open; I could’ve been in the Hummingbird and flying out of the Blitz in less than a minute.

But I didn’t. I tackled Tatum, the momentum carrying us tumbling down a flight of stairs. I landed hard on my ribs, the air knocked out of me. I groaned in pain, searching for Tatum’s knife, hoping not to find it sticking out of my chest. It was on the other side of the landing, next to the extractor. So was my bag.

On the bright side, Tatum was having a tough time getting up, too. He made his way to his knees as I did, grabbing the knife first, then looking at me. He let out a sharp exhale I took as a laugh, grabbed the bag next to him, and stood. He took the stairs down, never looking back. I sighed and fell onto my side, then rolled over so I was looking at the ceiling of the building through the missing stairwell.

And I lay there. For almost a full minute, I didn’t move, just breathed, watching the cracks on the rock that looked like spiderwebs. Above me, I heard coughing and clothing rustling, reminding me I still wasn’t alone. After climbing to my feet, my tired legs dragged the rest of my body up the steps.

She was bent over in front of me, taking deep breaths. “Hey, are you-” I started.

In a flash, she spun and pressed a knife against my neck.

“Okay,” I finished. “Hang on.” I swallowed, feeling the sharp edge against my throat.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“I was going to ask you the same thing,” I said, my eyes leaving her knife and going to her face. I hated to admit it, but Tatum was right; she was pretty, which definitely wasn’t what I needed to be focusing on. She was a teenager, close to my age, if not older.

Her other hand grabbed my wrist, holding it up. “Why do you have a holotab? You’re with that other guy, aren’t you?”

“No! Well, yes, but it’s not what it looks like.”

She tilted her head, her brown hair moving with it. “Oh, really? Because it looks like you had a bag filled with stuff you stole from dead Blitzers.”

“Okay, then it’s exactly what it looks like. But it wasn’t by choice.”

Outside, the Hummingbird had landed, but was taking off again, passing by the open building face before disappearing. She pushed me away, still holding the tip of the blade toward me. “What, did he force you out here?” she asked sarcastically.

“It wasn’t him, but I’m not out here by choice.”

I thought I saw her face soften, but only just a little. “Why didn’t you run, then?”

“What do you mean?”

“You could’ve grabbed the bag and run. Why didn’t you?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know, but he would’ve killed you. You’re welcome, by the way.”

She was quiet, not answering, instead only glaring at me. She put her knife into a sheath on the side of the small backpack she wore. Finally, she said, “Call for your sky-rat. Go back to your city.”

“My…my what?”

“Your helicopter,” she said slowly.

She bumped shoulders with me as she walked past. Maybe it was the absurdity of the last hour or the lack of sleep from the last few days. It might have been I was just happy I was alive, but I smiled as she took the steps down. I let her almost get to the first landing before I turned to follow; I wasn’t sure what else to do.

I reached the bottom, jumping over the missing steps and landing in the office lobby. The girl was halfway across it, continuing to glare at me. Outside, I heard a long, painful groan. Cory! I moved past her, opting to keep my distance, not wanting to get held at knifepoint again.

I found him on the street, gasping for air. His breath was raspy, a thin trail of blood running from the corner of his mouth. I looked desperately around. His bag and rifle were gone; I assumed taken by Tatum. I had nothing more than the pistol in my pocket.

“I don’t know how to help,” I said, not doing well at keeping my cool.

“Mason,” he said, his voice only a whisper.

“I’m sorry. A Hummingbird may be able to get here in time.”

I brought my wrist up to call for an extraction, but he grabbed it before I could. “Mason!”

His chest heaved up and down with each breath. “Don’t worry about me. Help my brother. Please.”

“How?”

“Pay off the rest of his fund.”

“I can’t even pay-”

“There isn’t much left. Please, Mason.”

I don’t even know if I’ll get Skylar back. How can I do both?

“His name is Kade,” he said. “He’s only twelve; he doesn’t deserve this. Neither did your sister. You can still free them. The three of you can get out of here.”

His breathing slowed, his eyes slowly closing. “Promise me you’ll try,” he whispered.

The air escaped his lungs, and he lay still.

“I promise,” I whispered back.

I sat back on my heels, then flat on my butt, my hands wrapped around my knees. I blinked, but there were no tears coming. I wasn’t sad. For some reason, I wasn’t all that mad. Instead, a single emotion was overwhelming: I was hopeless. I’d accomplished nothing this extraction, unless you counted adding another fund to try and earn enough to fill.

Was extracting with others even an option now? How am I going to find enough?

Shoes crunched on pieces of concrete back near the building. The Blitzer girl was leaving the building, watching the scene in front of her. It must not have been too entertaining, because she turned and walked away down the street.

“Hey,” I called out to her. Why? I’m not sure. I was alone again, and after everything today, that was probably for the best. But it was the last thing I wanted to be. She didn’t stop or look back.

I stood and followed. Something about her interested me, and I think a deep part of me hoped she could help. I trailed behind her, scanning the windows for more shadows that could turn into actual people.

After a block, her voice called out without looking back, just loud enough to be heard. “Why are you following me, Mason?”

I furrowed by eyebrows. “How do you know my name?”

“The dead guy said it a lot.”

“His name was Cory.”

She crossed a street, not answering me.

“He didn’t deserve that.”

Again, no answer.

“Hey!” My voice bounced off the buildings, multiple reverbs following.

She turned sharply, stopping. “Are you trying to get killed by everything out here? Keep your voice down.”

“Will you talk to me?” I asked, then threw my hands up. “Will you at least tell me your name?”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because it’s polite? I also won’t have to say ‘hey’ every time I want to talk to you.”

“Is that why you’re following me? So you can know my name?”

“Kind of,” I said. “But I’m also hoping you could help me.”

She scoffed. “Help you?”

“Please, I-”

She walked toward me, ending up just a few feet away. “Sure, let me take you to where I live. You can kill everyone there and take our stuff, too.”

“I didn’t kill anyone,” I said, breaking her voice level rules again. “I don’t even want to be out here. And I…wait. How’d you know about what happened? It was half a mile away. Then you ended up in the same building as us, slamming a door in my face. Are you following me?”

“No…I…Only…”

“People don’t like it when you follow them, Noodle.” It was the name of our family cat that had run away years ago. Skylar had named it; I’d always thought it was a dumb name.

“What did you call me?” she asked.

“You won’t tell me your name, so I improvised.”

She shook her head, looking at the faded crosswalk under her feet. I swear I might’ve heard her laugh. “You’re kind of insufferable; you know that?”

“Yet I feel like you don’t hate me like you want to.”

She was quiet, still looking at the pavement.

“Will you please tell me your name?”

It took a few more seconds, then she said, “Ashtyn.”

“Ashtyn,” I repeated.

“But if you call me that, I will actually stab you this time,” she said, making eye contact. “Everyone calls me Ash.”

“You’re very violent, you know that, Ash?” I knew I still needed to be cautious with her. Despite everything, I was optimistic she could help me.

How’d that work out with Tatum and Cory?

“You have to be out here,” she said.

“I’m learning that.”

She kept staring, her eyebrows twisting, like she was trying to read my face and figure out the random guy in front of her. I didn’t hide anything. Eventually, she shook her head. “You don’t look like the normal ones; you’re younger. Why are you out here?”

I turned and motioned back toward Cory. “They took his brother.”

“Who?”

“FATE.”

“Fate? Like destiny?” she mocked.

“No. It’s an acronym for…something…really long. I don’t remember. The point is they took his brother.”

“I asked about you.”

“They kidnapped my sister, Skylar, and my dad, too. Now, I’m forced to come out here to bring back enough stuff that they find valuable and earn her back.” My voice climbed higher the longer I spoke. “And I just promised Cory on his dying breath that I’d try to free his brother, which I have no real chance at doing because whatever I find is either worthless to them or I get shot at by other extractors who try to steal it. Then random girls show up and try to steal it, too.”

“Funny.”

“All they gave me was a torn bag, a pat on the back, and this tiny pistol,” I said, bringing the rusted pistol out to show her.

She looked at the rest of my body up and down. “I don’t know; it looks about right for you.”

“Okay, really?”

She actually smiled.

“I’m not out here because I want to hurt or steal from you or your people,” I said.

Her body language relaxed a little, but she still looked skeptical. I didn’t blame her.

“We were searching abandoned houses, but then Tatum, the other guy, took us to the apartments.”

She scanned the surrounding buildings. The rain was still light, but the dark clouds above us told me it was going to start pouring any minute.

“Please, Ash. I know you have no reason to help me. You don’t like extractors, and I get why. I really do. But I’m not doing this for myself or to get rich. I just want to save my sister.”

I wasn’t the best at reading people, but I could see the conflicting feelings on her face.

“I’ll beg if I have to,” I added.

“Please don’t.”

She stayed quiet for a little longer. I knew I should’ve shut up and let her think, but I kept going. “I can try to help you however I can. I just don’t know what else to do.”

She cursed under her breath, then sighed. “Follow me.” She pointed at me. “But I haven’t decided yet.”

I smiled as I followed her down the street.

———

We stopped a few blocks over in a residential neighborhood nestled within bigger stores. They were large houses, arranged in a circle and much nicer than the abandoned ones from earlier. Some had been hit by the elements, with broken windows or holes in the roof, but all were mostly intact, just overgrown by wildlife.

“We monitor where you extractors go,” Ash said. We stood in front of the biggest home in the circle. “I’m responsible for this sector. We haven’t gotten to a few of these houses and aren’t patrolling the area today. You should be fine.”

“Thank you,” I said, and I meant it.

She walked away, but after a few steps, stopped. “Why are you doing this?” she muttered to herself. I followed her finger as she pointed to a tall building not far away. Another mid-rise had crashed into it, leaving a giant scar of mangled steel. “Extract again tomorrow and meet me there. I can show you other places.”

I felt like a Tatum-sized weight had been lifted off my chest. “I could hug you.”

Her hand reached behind her, no doubt to grab the knife attached to her bag.

“I’m kidding. I prefer my throat without the cuts you’d put in it.”

“I’m not that violent,” she said, her hand going back to her side. “But just so we’re clear: I’m not doing this because I like you or think you’re cute.”

“Odd thing to throw in there.”

She balled her fists. “For some reason, despite my best efforts, I feel bad for you. You’re like a sad puppy. If this FATE is behind the skeletons who attack us, then helping you get back at them, even if it’s only getting away from them, is something I’m willing to do.”

She cut me off before I could say anything. “But you’re still clueless about what’s going on out here.”

“I know you’re trying to survive, just like me.”

“Meet me tomorrow,” she said.

I called to her one more time as she walked away. “Hey, Ash.”

She looked back at me. “Thank you.” She nodded, then kept going, disappearing behind a row of overgrown hedges. I stepped through the front door of a three-story house. Ash was right; it was untouched, and whoever lived here had been loaded.

By the second house, I’d filled every pocket in my jacket and pants. I tapped the extraction button on my holotab. The pickup point was in the middle of the circle right in front, the timer showing the Hummingbird would be here in twenty-five minutes. I sat on the top step as I waited, watching the lightning dance over the city.