Chapter 27

  Darren

  You ever sit across from two guys who think they're the second coming of Genghis Khan and just... wonder how the hell you got here? Because that was me, crammed into Matt's tent, trying to keep my face from giving away how badly I wanted to be literally anywhere else.

  "Look, John's eating right out of my hand," I said, leaning back like I didn't have a care in the world. Fake it till you make it, right? "The diversion the other day sealed the deal. He's been talking to me every evening, says he's got a plan, and he'll loop me in when it's ready. The guy thinks I'm his new best friend."

  Matt leaned back in his chair, arms crossed tight. "You really think so? John doesn't exactly spill his guts. How do we know he'll actually come to you?"

  "Because I'm me." I spread my hands like it was obvious. "Who else is he gonna trust? Jared over here?" I jerked my thumb at Jared, who scowled. "No offense, buddy, but you've got the subtlety of a sledgehammer."

  "Screw you, Darren."

  "See what I mean?"

  Matt didn't laugh. "Trust isn't enough. We need to be ready. Especially if John's planning something with that girl, the one who made the phones."

  Jared's eyes lit up and he leaned forward, practically vibrating. "That's right. She's a game changer. If we capture her, we can take back control. She holds the keys to the communication, and we can't let anyone else have that power."

  "Exactly," Matt added, his tone almost gleeful. "Imagine what we could do with her technology. We'd be unstoppable. Just remember that Steve Apple guy. He made the first phone and look how popular he is."

  "Yeah!" Jared added. "We could make a fortune. I remember someone telling me they wished they'd invested in phones in the 1900s. And that they coulda been a billionaire!"

  Steve Apple. Invested in phones in the 1900s. I opened my mouth to correct them, then clamped it shut. What was the point? These two thought Alexander Graham Bell and Steve Jobs were the same person, and honestly? Correcting them wasn't going to make this situation any less of a dumpster fire.

  The phones. That was my fault. I'd been the one to run my mouth about the phones to impress these guys when they first showed up. Back on Earth, over cheap beer at rally after-parties, Matt and Jared had been fun. We'd binge Walking Dead episodes and argue about who'd survive the zombie apocalypse. Spoiler alert: we all thought we'd be Rick Grimes. Turns out one of us was more of a Governor.

  "Hey Darren, you listening?"

  "What? Yeah, phones. I hear anything new about the phones, you'll be the first to know. Scout's honor." I held up three fingers. Never actually been a Scout, but who was checking?

  Matt cleared his throat, obviously not amused. "And don't forget Leander. He's promised us the potential to rule over Earth once this tutorial phase is over. This is our chance to carve out our place in the world. To get the appreciation we deserve and to be treated exactly like that."

  Rule over Earth. Right. Because that always works out so well, doesn't it? Every dictator in history started with a speech just like that, and every single one of them ended up dead or in a bunker. But sure, Matt, you and your buddy Jared are gonna be the exception.

  "And what happens when people decide they don't want King Matt telling them what to eat for breakfast?" I asked, keeping my voice light, like it was just an idle question. "You gonna send Jared door to door with a clipboard?"

  "Then we make sure they understand what's at stake," Jared said, voice hard. "This isn't about being nice. It's about ensuring our survival. People like some girl with a phone can't be trusted to make the right choices. They need guidance. Our guidance."

  "Leander sees the bigger picture," Matt said, leaning in closer, dropping his voice like we were in some spy movie. "He knows what's coming, and he's counting on us to be the ones to lead the charge. If we play this right, we won't just survive. We'll thrive."

  I glanced between them. Two guys who couldn't name the right inventor of the telephone were going to lead humanity into a new era. What could possibly go wrong?

  "Sure, sure. I'm just saying, what's Plan B if this whole thing goes sideways? Not that it will, obviously. Just, you know, asking for a friend."

  "Darren." Matt fixed me with that look, the one that was supposed to be inspiring but mostly just made him look constipated. "This is bigger than just us. This is about taking back our future. You can't let fear hold you back. We're doing what's necessary to protect our way of life."

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  Just then, Jared shifted in his seat, a sly grin spreading across his face. "And speaking of changing things, we've got some big plans for tomorrow when the store opens up."

  "Oh yeah? Like what, matching jackets? A team logo?"

  Matt leaned in, ignoring the joke. "We're going to make some serious purchases. Weapons, supplies, and I have enough for a stone of resurrection. Immortality sounds perfect on me."

  "Yeah," Jared chimed in. "Once we have the right gear, we can really get people behind us. We can save everyone. We'll be ready to make moves, to take back what's ours."

  Immortality. For Matt. The universe really did have a sick sense of humor, didn't it?

  "Take back what, exactly?" I asked.

  Matt waved me off. "Anything we deserve. Just keep me updated on John. After today it won't much matter, but he's been pretty jumpy so I want you to stick on him like stink on shit. Make sure that fucker is only doing exactly what he's supposed to do. You do this for me and we'll make sure you have enough for some killer weapons tomorrow too."

  I nodded. "You got it, boss." I turned to leave but Jared called out.

  "Oh, and don't forget Leander wants a list of those loyal for blessings at the end of the day. I need you to vet this list for us, make sure they're with us, okay?"

  I took the list and left the tent without a word.

  The smaller sun was already dipping behind the treeline, painting the sky that bruised copper color while the larger one hung stubbornly above, like it couldn't decide whether to call it a day. The camp looked almost peaceful in that weird amber-violet light. Almost. If you ignored the armed goons patrolling the perimeter and the people shuffling around with their heads down.

  I looked down at the list. A drop of sweat slid off my nose and landed right on the first name.

  "Corwin."

  Well, wasn't that just perfect?

  I ducked behind the supply tents and leaned against a post, staring at the paper. Corwin's name, right there at the top, like the universe wanted to make sure I couldn't look away from my own handiwork. Because that's what it was, wasn't it? My axe. His arm. Didn't matter that it was an accident, didn't matter that the orc had lunged. Every time I saw that empty sleeve, I saw my swing connecting in the wrong damn place.

  And now Matt wanted me to vet him for blessings. Blessings. From the same crew that had turned this camp into a prison yard. Was that the punchline? Was I supposed to laugh?

  Colin's face flashed through my head. The kid, and he was a kid, couldn't have been older than nineteen, standing up to Matt with his chest puffed out and his voice cracking. Brave and stupid, the worst combination. Matt hadn't even hesitated. One minute Colin was telling Matt where he could shove his leadership, the next he was on the ground and Matt was wiping his hands like he'd just taken out the trash.

  That wasn't what we'd talked about over beers. Nobody mentioned murdering teenagers when we were arguing about crossbow versus shotgun for the apocalypse. But here we were.

  I crumpled the list in my fist, then smoothed it out again. Couldn't show up with a wrinkled list. Matt would ask questions.

  So what was I supposed to do, huh? Ride in on a white horse and save everybody? Me? The guy who couldn't even swing an axe without taking off an ally's arm? Real heroic. Real inspirational. They'd make a movie about me. Call it "The Guy Who Screwed Up Everything He Touched."

  But could I keep doing this? Could I keep nodding along while Matt talked about ruling the world and Jared drew up hit lists disguised as loyalty rosters?

  I spotted Corwin sitting on a log at the edge of camp, staring out at nothing with that look, the one that said he was somewhere far away and probably wished he could stay there. His empty left sleeve hung limp at his side, and something in my chest did that twisting thing I kept pretending wasn't happening.

  I walked over. Smooth. Casual. Just a guy checking on another guy. Nothing suspicious.

  "Hey, one-arm." The words left my mouth before my brain could stop them. I winced internally. Real smooth, jackass. "I mean... how're you holding up?"

  He looked up at me and the sadness in his eyes hit harder than I expected. "I'm managing. Just... trying to figure things out."

  "Yeah, well, who isn't?" I dropped down on the log next to him, leaving some space between us. "Whole damn camp's trying to figure things out. That's basically our full-time job now, right? Figuring things out and trying not to die."

  He didn't laugh. Fair enough.

  I scratched the back of my neck, the list burning a hole in my pocket. "Listen, about... you know." I gestured vaguely at his arm, or where his arm used to be. "That wasn't... I mean, you know that wasn't what I was aiming for, right?"

  He nodded, but I could see the doubt. "It's not just that, Darren. It's everything. I miss my sister. She's still out there, and I can't shake the feeling that something bad happened to her that night."

  His sister. Jackie. The kid who'd vanished during the raid and nobody had seen since. Another thing I got to add to the pile of crap keeping me up at night.

  "Hey." I kept my voice low, checking over my shoulder out of habit. "I don't know where she ended up, but she had that shadow cloak, yeah? That thing could hide a rhino at a petting zoo. Wherever she is, she's got a better survival kit than most of us. I'll keep my ears open."

  He seemed to relax a fraction. Good enough.

  "So," I said, dropping my voice to barely above a whisper, like I was asking about the weather. "Matt and the boys treating you all right? Rolling out the red carpet and everything?"

  Corwin's eyes narrowed and he pulled back, watching me like I'd just sprouted a second head. "You're kidding, right? They're hardly leaders, Darren. They're just bullies with guns. They took all of our supplies and credits."

  I barked out a laugh, short and sharp, then stuffed the list deeper into my pocket. "Relax, I'm messing with you. You think I don't know what they are?" I dropped the grin. "Listen, those clowns couldn't lead a conga line. Just keep your head down, all right? Don't be a hero. Don't be a Colin."

  The name hung between us like a bad smell.

  Corwin swallowed. Then, barely above a whisper: "John's looking for you. He needs to let you know about tonight."

  I stood up, stretching like I didn't have a care in the world. "Well, duty calls. Try not to miss me too much."

  He didn't smile, but some of the tension left his shoulders. I turned and walked away, the list crinkling in my pocket with every step.

  Tonight. Whatever John had planned, it had better be good. Because I was running out of ways to play both sides without somebody putting an axe through something I couldn't fix.

  And wasn't that just the story of my life?