felt
long and strong. I was becoming used to this delicious sensation,
the motion of the fireteam, Wilder at the center, the four of us
connected to each other through him. A word popped into my
mind: “home.” Was this bizarre web my home now?
Mi-sun had the best vision of all of us and spotted snipers
on the roof. At Wilder’s command she began shooting paint balls.
Ruth ran out in front, florescent splatters of paint balls exploding
against her chest and legs. If one hit me, I’d have to play dead. I
ran low. I didn’t want Wilder to think I was useless.
Just as we gained the building, a gas cloud erupted around
us. We held our breath, shut our eyes, and followed where we
felt Wilder lead.
96
Dangerous
When I could open my eyes again, we were inside the
building. Wilder gave instructions to the other three to scout
out the surrounding rooms while I climbed up to a security
camera, took it apart, and connected my tablet to the security
system.
“Turn off—” he started.
“The cameras. Got it,” I said.
“And any—”
“Alarms are now off. There’s—”
“A lockdown area? That’ll be the prisoners. Can you shut
down—”
“Yeah, just give me ten—”
“Havoc,” Wilder said on the headset, “detention block in
center stage. Ruthless, back him up. Mi-sun to me. Let’s get an
escape route ready.”
Something exploded, and our back door was blocked
with concrete chunks. Wilder and I ducked as paint balls fired
through the broken windows.
I crawled to the doorway, slid the metal flats of my robot
suit hands under the chunks and lifted, sending our barricade
tumbling.
“You’re awesome,” Wilder said.“Thanks,” I said. “I work out.”
He gave me that appreciative smile, and I returned it. And
maybe we held the moment a few seconds too long.
A crash and a boom from outside startled us.
“Sorry,” he said. “You’re distracting. I have to ignore you
better.”
“Gee, thanks.”
Mi-sun arrived and began firing out the door, driving back
our attackers. She took a paint ball on the leg.
97
Shannon Hale
“Blue, you’re hobbled now,” Wilder told Mi-sun.
“Climb on,” I said, and she sat on my robotic shoulders, still
firing paint balls.
Outside Ruth was exiting the far side of the building, tap-
ping guys and watching them sit down.
She’d just cleared the area for Jacques when an explosion
bit my ears and briefly blinded me.
When the smoke cleared Ruth was standing in a crater
made by the blast. Her clothes were completely gone. It looked
like someone—probably Wilder—had anticipated that because
Ruth was wearing what I can only describe as havoc underwear,
and her hair was wound up inside her havoc helmet. One lock
had slipped out. Ruth noticed the charred-off hair and screamed.
I set down Mi-sun and ran forward, shouting to Ruth to
see if she was okay. She shoved me back just as another group of
gunmen rounded the corner. Gunfire pinged her, splattering in
carnival colors. Ruth yanked a paint ball rifle out of a shooter’s
hands and threw it back at him, still screaming. The gunmen
fled, and I don’t think they were faking their fear.
One didn’t flee. He kept firing, his eyes hidden behind
mirrored sunglasses. Ruth grabbed him by his head and picked
him off the ground.
“Ruth, stop! Stop! Stop!” Wilder was running forward.
Ruth looked at Wilder. She released the guy, turned and
punched through the building.
“We said we wouldn’t let them hurt us,” said Ruth. “We
promised.”
“I okayed the grenade,” said Wilder. “I didn’t think it would
hurt. You’re not even bruised, see?”
He lifted her arm, and she yanked it away from him.
98
Dangerous
“Ruth, you can’t hurt anyone else. Okay? You promise me.”
She shook her head then lifted one shoulder. “Okay, just .
. . don’t touch me.”
Jacques ran out of the building carrying cardboard cutouts
in people shapes holding signs that read:
long and strong. I was becoming used to this delicious sensation,
the motion of the fireteam, Wilder at the center, the four of us
connected to each other through him. A word popped into my
mind: “home.” Was this bizarre web my home now?
Mi-sun had the best vision of all of us and spotted snipers
on the roof. At Wilder’s command she began shooting paint balls.
Ruth ran out in front, florescent splatters of paint balls exploding
against her chest and legs. If one hit me, I’d have to play dead. I
ran low. I didn’t want Wilder to think I was useless.
Just as we gained the building, a gas cloud erupted around
us. We held our breath, shut our eyes, and followed where we
felt Wilder lead.
96
Dangerous
When I could open my eyes again, we were inside the
building. Wilder gave instructions to the other three to scout
out the surrounding rooms while I climbed up to a security
camera, took it apart, and connected my tablet to the security
system.
“Turn off—” he started.
“The cameras. Got it,” I said.
“And any—”
“Alarms are now off. There’s—”
“A lockdown area? That’ll be the prisoners. Can you shut
down—”
“Yeah, just give me ten—”
“Havoc,” Wilder said on the headset, “detention block in
center stage. Ruthless, back him up. Mi-sun to me. Let’s get an
escape route ready.”
Something exploded, and our back door was blocked
with concrete chunks. Wilder and I ducked as paint balls fired
through the broken windows.
I crawled to the doorway, slid the metal flats of my robot
suit hands under the chunks and lifted, sending our barricade
tumbling.
“You’re awesome,” Wilder said.“Thanks,” I said. “I work out.”
He gave me that appreciative smile, and I returned it. And
maybe we held the moment a few seconds too long.
A crash and a boom from outside startled us.
“Sorry,” he said. “You’re distracting. I have to ignore you
better.”
“Gee, thanks.”
Mi-sun arrived and began firing out the door, driving back
our attackers. She took a paint ball on the leg.
97
Shannon Hale
“Blue, you’re hobbled now,” Wilder told Mi-sun.
“Climb on,” I said, and she sat on my robotic shoulders, still
firing paint balls.
Outside Ruth was exiting the far side of the building, tap-
ping guys and watching them sit down.
She’d just cleared the area for Jacques when an explosion
bit my ears and briefly blinded me.
When the smoke cleared Ruth was standing in a crater
made by the blast. Her clothes were completely gone. It looked
like someone—probably Wilder—had anticipated that because
Ruth was wearing what I can only describe as havoc underwear,
and her hair was wound up inside her havoc helmet. One lock
had slipped out. Ruth noticed the charred-off hair and screamed.
I set down Mi-sun and ran forward, shouting to Ruth to
see if she was okay. She shoved me back just as another group of
gunmen rounded the corner. Gunfire pinged her, splattering in
carnival colors. Ruth yanked a paint ball rifle out of a shooter’s
hands and threw it back at him, still screaming. The gunmen
fled, and I don’t think they were faking their fear.
One didn’t flee. He kept firing, his eyes hidden behind
mirrored sunglasses. Ruth grabbed him by his head and picked
him off the ground.
“Ruth, stop! Stop! Stop!” Wilder was running forward.
Ruth looked at Wilder. She released the guy, turned and
punched through the building.
“We said we wouldn’t let them hurt us,” said Ruth. “We
promised.”
“I okayed the grenade,” said Wilder. “I didn’t think it would
hurt. You’re not even bruised, see?”
He lifted her arm, and she yanked it away from him.
98
Dangerous
“Ruth, you can’t hurt anyone else. Okay? You promise me.”
She shook her head then lifted one shoulder. “Okay, just .
. . don’t touch me.”
Jacques ran out of the building carrying cardboard cutouts
in people shapes holding signs that read:
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