From the moment Naomi saw the blonde woman step out of the housing block and lock eyes with her, her whole body went cold.
For half a second, the noise of the sector dropped away.
The shouting from the market lane. Boots on concrete. Metal gates clanging shut for curfew prep. All of it blurred behind the pounding in her ears.
Her eyes widened.
St. Louis flashed through her head like lightning.
Rain on broken pavement.
A scream.
Blood on her hands.
The sound of something wet hitting the floor.
She looked down without meaning to.
Her missing fingers.
Still gone.
Still real.
She looked back up.
Cherie was already moving.
And there was a gun in her hand.
Naomi's stomach dropped.
How the hell did she get one?
The intake patrols took weapons at processing. Knives, pistols, even loose ammo. They'd taken Naomi's rifle without blinking.
But there was no time to think.
Cherie's face said enough.
Jaw tight. Eyes burning. Breathing through her nose.
She meant to use it.
