The buggy bumps and jerks as we travel off-road but my eyes are trained on the tallgrass that surrounds us, looking for signs of apexers. In between my private panic attacks I rewind and watch Cole’s head being ripped from his body. Aren, to his credit, says nothing. And that’s OK with me. I’d rather not have to keep up my end of a hostile conversation at the moment.

  After what seems like hours of driving my heart begins to slow down and the rhythm of the bucking prairie lulls me into stillness and I sleep.

  When I wake we’re not moving. Aren’s seat is empty, but I can hear him trying to get someone on the coms. The moon is gone, so it must be almost morning.

  I get out of the buggy and walk over to Aren. "Anyone out there?"

  He shakes his head, looks me up and down, then turns his attention back to his device as he talks. "We’ll make a little camp over there for the day," he says, pointing southwest, "and hole up until the coms come back online."

  I nod and climb back in the buggy and let Aren find us a camp for the day. He unpacks some gear as the sun begins to rise.

  "Here, catch." He throws me a packet of food. It’s a military ration, so I don’t get too excited. "It’s blueberry pancakes, your favorite."

  I smile a little because he remembers, then open the ration and squeeze it into my mouth until the packet is flat. I wash it down with water.

  Aren is still busy, but I chance a conversation anyway. "Did you see what he did, Aren?"

  He looks up from his task and stares at me. I know him well enough to see the wheels spin as he replays it, but he only grunts and goes back to his work.

  "I have no idea who he is. None."

  This time he doesn’t look up, but he does talk. "I find that hard to believe, Junco. I mean, it looks real bad the way you took off to the Stag. What were you doing?" He drags his eyes off his hands and finds my face. "And no bullshit. It’s just me."

  "I told you already. I had to deliver something."

  "To Stag Camp, Junco? That makes no fucking sense."

  "I have a" – I blow some air out my mouth and it causes my unruly hair near my chin to go flying – "family friend there. I went out there all the time with my father, Aren, so don’t pretend like you know me that well."

  “Not my fault you never took me home to Daddy.”

  His words come out jaded and I laugh. “I never took anyone home to Daddy, Aren.”

  His end of the conversation is now over and all I can do is watch as he gets busy laying down a sleeping bag. There is only one, and when it’s all laid out he gets in, boots and all. I watch him and shiver a little as I think about how badly I want to climb in and be close to someone.

  He looks at me, smiles, then pats the ground next to him. "Come on, get in."

  I smile back but shake my head. "No, thanks. I’m all bloody."

  "Jasus, Junco. Just get in the bag."

  I give in. Why play the game? He knows I want to sleep in there, I know I want to sleep in there. Screw it. I take off the disgusting jumpsuit and get in, boots, mud, blood and all.

  I settle into his chest and he pulls me close and puts his arms around me. We’re warm and it doesn’t feel terrible.

  "You know damn well I didn’t desert you, Junco. So quit fucking saying that shit. You left me, remember?"

  I think about this for a minute and then shrug. "I don’t deal well with ultimatums, Aren. And you gave me one. I had a life outside of cadets, you know. But you never understood that and then you just up and left. That never made sense to me. So why?” I turn a little and try to see his face over my shoulder. “Why did you leave the RR?"

  Silence.

  I sigh and stay still. Waiting.

  A few minutes later he gives it a shot. "A discipline action. I fucked up after your graduation. They wanted to kick me out. Make me go back home."

  This sounds like a lie but I’m not really interested in making a big deal of it. "So you left the RR? That’s a little excessive, don’t you think?"

  "Junco, I don’t know what your childhood was really like since you never did talk about it, but I lived with some raging fucking assholes when I was a kid and we didn’t live in Council 3 where practically everyone’s got special status. My house was a shit hole. I couldn’t wait to join the military and get the hell out of that place. I figured I had enough field experience to do something else, so I took my skills to the highest bidder. And frankly, I’m having a hard time swallowing this fucking holier-than-thou attitude you seem to have about it. You and I aren’t that different."

  I elbow him in the ribs. "Get off me," I say, disgusted. He removes his arms and turns over without saying another word and after a few minutes of silence our mutual exhaustion takes over and we fall asleep.

  When I wake the sun is already setting, Aren is gone, and I’m a hot mess of sweat-caked filth. I’ve never felt so disgusting in my life, even when I had to spend months out in the tallgrass on maneuvers. At least then I didn’t have another man’s blood peeling off my body. I struggle out of the bag and look around in what’s left of the daylight, then fish out a ration from the pack nearby. I squeeze pot roast into my mouth, gag, and try not to notice the film that’s grown over my teeth.

  Aren is down by the buggy messing with the coms.

  "Are they up yet?" I yell as I walk down to him.

  "Hey, beautiful, have a nice sleep?"

  "Shut the hell up."

  He shrugs and lets the insult slide off. "No. No coms yet."

  "Why are they still down?"

  "You fuck up the mission, you get penalized. Or maybe they figure it’s just as easy to let us get eaten out here by the nightdogs. Who knows?"

  "So this mission was to come get me. Why?"

  "You’ll have to ask them, Junco. I’m just the delivery boy."

  "Why did Cole think I was an avian, then?"

  He looks up at me and shakes his head as a pissed-off expression spreads across his face. "Fucking Cole."

  "Why, Aren?"

  He shakes his head again. "Dunno, Junco. I really don’t. But everyone seems to think you are. They all want you."

  "All who?"

  "Us, them, the avians."

  I let out a deep sigh, sick of the games. "Who is us and who is them, Aren?"

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  He shoots me a dirty look, then comes over and pokes me in the chest, hard enough to send me back a step, and then pokes his own as well. "Us," he clarifies. Then he waves his hands up in the air and says, "Them."

  I don’t have the energy to point out there is no us, so I drop it. "That makes no sense, Aren. The RR wants me for what? I’ve been living here my whole life, I was the commander’s daughter, I–"

  I stop myself, unsure of what I was just going to say. Aren doesn’t pick up on it but I start to have a small panic attack until he starts talking again.

  "I couldn’t tell you. I’m only privy to what the MR is doing and we were hired to extract you and take you back with us."

  "Hired? To take me back where?" I’m starting to sound like an idiot with my questions, but screw it.

  "I can’t say any more, but I will say that it is somewhere safe."

  "And I’m supposed to believe that?"

  He just shrugs.

  "Am I an avian?" I know it’s not possible, but I want to hear it from him.

  "As far as I know, yes."

  I choke on my own spit for a minute. "You’re joking, right?"

  I can tell he’s tired of this subject by his extra-long huff of exhaled air. "Do I look like I’m fucking around, Junco?"

  My feet are moving before I even process what’s happening and I walk off into the tallgrass. Picture yourself standing on the edge of a dock...

  I shake my head.

  No.

  I am Junco Coot, aged nineteen. Born in the Rural Republic in 2133. My mother is Carolinia Coot, maiden name Sutter. My father was Rural Republic Commander, Johann Coot, son of Wilhem Coot. I live in Council 3, I went to sniper school when I was seventeen, I play piano, collect books and guns, and last year I was the world’s mounted aerial aerobatics grand champion.

  ... In front of you is a mountain lake...

  No. In front of me is a crapload of tallgrass filled with sleeping prairie lions.

  ... and behind you is a small cabin, pristine white curtains flowing in the breeze passing through the windows...

  No.

  No.

  NO.

  That shit needs to go back down now, Junco!

  The sun is hanging on by a sliver when I look to the west, thankful that some of the sweat on my sticky body has dried up. The cool wind chills me as it whisks the heat from my exposed arms. If I was brave I’d just keep walking. Forget about Aren, the avian, my father, my farm, my life and everything that happened over the past forty-eight hours.

  But I’m not brave. So I can do nothing but sit on a rock and stare out across the plains.

  Sometime later Aren comes up and joins me.

  "Shit, Junco! I was calling your name, didn’t you hear me?"

  "Yeah, I heard you."

  "So, now you’re just going to ignore me? Because I told you what I know?"

  I get up furious and look him in the eyes as I poke him in the chest. "You told me what you wanted me to know, so save your bullshit for someone else."

  "What do you want me to do, break my security clearance?"

  "It wouldn’t be the first time."

  "Right back at you, Junco. You’re mucking around in the same shit I am, so fuck you."

  I hoof it back to the buggy and search for some water and gulp it down. I’m hungry again, but since I don’t know how long we’ll have to be out here, I don’t take another ration. Instead I plop down in the passenger seat and prop my chin up with my hand, staring up at the sky. My old friends are still up there. But not all of them are visible since the moon is only just now rising.

  The coms begin to crackle and it almost makes me jump out of my seat. "Aren!" I yell. "Aren, the coms are back!"

  I hear his boots running towards me and he stops by the driver’s side door and reaches in for the handset, then walks off in the dark, talking.

  More secret stuff about Junco, I’m sure. I go back to my skydream and find the Big Dipper, Little Dipper, and then the North Star.

  Aren returns, a look of relief on his face. Probably so happy to get the hell away from my moody ass he can’t contain himself. "They’re on their way. Be here in about an hour."

  "Airlift, then?" I ask. But I already know that means the RR has given them permission to fly in our airspace. He doesn’t confirm it either way. "So what happens to me now?"

  "We take you in and that’s it."

  "That’s it? You guys just take me in and then what? Throw me a party? Take me home? Bring my father back to life? What? What happens when you take me in?"

  He doesn’t answer so I decide to push my luck. "Maybe they’ll dissect me?"

  "Don’t be an idiot."

  "I’m an idiot now? Because I’m the subject of a multinational, shit, multi-species manhunt, and I’m scared about what’s going to happen and where I’m going to end up?"

  "You’re completely overreacting."

  "Am I? Oh, well, phew! For a minute there I wasn’t sure. Maybe I leave right now and you don’t take me in at all? How ‘bout that?"

  "You’re not going anywhere, Junco. Just sit quietly and stop acting like a raving crazy person–"

  I am out of the buggy and hoofing it before he has a chance to finish his sentence. I book it hard and I feel the calories melt off my muscles and know that I won’t get far. Still, I hear him yelling at me to come back and the pebbles his feet throw up as he chases me make my day. I slip into the tallgrass and I know that I could get away, if I really want to.

  Do I really want to?

  I stop because I’m not sure, then pant a little as I stand on my tiptoes and poke my head up to see if he’s around. I don’t see anything so I walk, parting the over-ripe stalks of wild wheat in front of me, while still keeping an eye out.

  "Had enough yet, Junco?"

  I turn to find the avian less than a pace behind me and I open my mouth to scream, but nothing comes out because he’s got his hand clasped over my lips.

  Tight, I might add.

  "I see yer friends have ya completely strung out." I blink at him, partly because he seems to want a response and partly because that’s all I can do. "If I remove my hand, will ya keep quiet then? For a moment of chat?" I nod and he removes his hand, but I’m true to my word and stay quiet.

  "Now, then. Shall I present yer options? Or will ya just come along quietly?"

  I shrug.

  "You’re coming with me, regardless of what ya choose, let’s just get that straight right now."

  I close my eyes like I’m tired, or bored. "So, why bother me with choices?"

  "The choice is whether or not ya want yer little loverboy over there to keep his head."

  Shit. Now I’ve done it. "Please don’t kill him. He’s a good guy and he’s just following orders."

  "Good guy, eh? I think not, Junco Coot. Ya have no idea what kind of guy he is. None at all."

  I grunt. "Yeah. You’re probably right about that, but hey, this is coming from someone who tears people’s heads off for fun."

  He squints down at me, like he’s insulted or something. "The man was on top of ya, ready to throw a punch."

  "I didn’t need your help, alien. I practically killed him with a plumber’s wrench ten minutes before you decided to decapitate him and spill his filthy blood all over me." I point to my dress as exhibit A.

  "So what’s the problem? I finished the job."

  "I didn’t want him dead, I only wanted him hurt. What you did was excessive. You’re like an animal or a monster."

  "Now we’re getting somewhere. Sure, I’m a monster. But not any more of one than you are."

  "I’m not one of you," I hiss.

  He ignores my comment. "I’m willing to take you right now and leave everyone else alive. The question is whether or not you accept that proposal."

  My face is suddenly hot and the frustration I feel is overwhelming. The tears escape and slip down my cheeks as I slump to the ground.

  He bends down with me and leans in to part my hair away from my neck, like he’s going to bite me or something. I pull back, but he’s got a hold of my shoulder and keeps me still.

  "This posture looks like an acceptance to me, Junco, but you’re quite impulsive and wild," he croons in my ear, "and I want to be sure of your decision." I can feel the words travel into my ear canal and I put up an imaginary wall and rub my hand over my ear to brush them away.

  "Learning tricks, are ya? No matter, Junco, all I need is a yes and this nightmare will end. Yes, then?"

  "Her answer is no, alien." Aren’s timing couldn’t be worse.

  I quickly reach for the avian’s hand that still rests on my neck, and whisper, "Yes." Then he’s gone.

  I stand up and whirl around to see the avian has Aren by the throat. "You promised!" Aren is choking and his hands are frantically clutching the avian’s hands. I look down and see Aren’s plasma rifle and scoop it up, then point it straight at the alien’s head. "Stop! We had a deal!"

  The avian throws Aren down on the ground and he lies there sputtering. I drop the weapon and kneel down next to him. "Shit! Aren, are you OK?"

  The avian stands over us with the plasma rifle. "He’s fine. Just making a big scene is all. Come on, let’s go."

  "Wait," Aren croaks. "Wait! I have a message for you, Tier!"

  We both turn. "Who’s Tier?"

  "I’m Tier. What message?" Tier asks.

  "My front pocket," Aren chokes. "Junco, help me up!"

  I do, and he fishes the letter from his pants pocket and hands it over. The alien takes it and walks a few paces away for privacy.

  "What is it, Aren?"

  He shrugs. "Dunno. I can’t read their language."

  "Well, where the hell did you get it? Try that one."

  The alien is back so Aren doesn’t answer me. "Well? What the hell does it say?" He scowls and hands it over to me. All I see is gibberish.

  "Apparently," Tier begins, "we have an agreement between parties."

  "English, please," I snap.

  "That was English."

  I throw up my hands. "What does it mean?"

  "Seems yer friend there needs to grant me permission ta remove ya from custody. Though it’s an old document and my plans have been recently revised. So I’m not sure I need to honor it anymore."

  "You’re not taking her," Aren growls.

  "You have no say in that, boy. None whatsoever. She has already agreed to come."

  They both look over at me and my eyes move from one to the other. Tier’s tell me nothing, but Aren’s speak loud and clear in their silence. "He says he won’t kill you if I go."

  "Goddammit, Junco, how fucking gullible can you be? Every fucking time I get you–" He stops and starts again. "Listen, Junco, he’s not going to kill me. Can’t kill me, OK?"

  Tier laughs. "I can and I will."

  "Fine," I shrug. "You want to fight over me, knock yourselves out."

  Tier remains calm and looks Aren in the eyes. Aren meets his gaze and nods his head. Then the alien’s face changes before my eyes and I step back and trip over a rock as I try to get away. "Aren, I’ll just go–"

  Aren spits on the ground and winces as he draws in a breath. "This dirty fucking avian can take his permission, his bullshit, and his ugly giant buzzard wings and get the FUCK OFF MY PLANET!"

  I don’t even have time to wince at his insults before Tier is on him.