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Authors: Shannon Hale

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stopped its work. My arms seemed to have forgotten how to

function, so I kicked the rest of the metal band loose and

pushed the door open with my hip, letting in Dragon, Howell,

and a few others.

“What’s going on?” Howell asked, scanning the room.

“Miss Brown, perhaps you could test your gadgets outside—”

I was suddenly on the floor. My legs felt like cooked noo-

dles, cold and floppy and useless.

Must’ve been the strain of the impact boots, I thought, be-

fore noticing that my arms were shaking too.

Wilder was there. He crouched, looking into my face.

“Ruthless,” I said. I pointed toward the kitchen and the

body she’d left behind.

After that things happened quickly. Someone carried me

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to the lab and the doctors. There was nothing they could do for

Duarte (Collie’s real name had been Duarte). Dragon ran for a

helicopter, and the security guys chased after him and Ruth in

a swarm of black SUVs.

“You’ve had a shock. Stay put and rest,” a doctor told me,

but I was too restless to rest, so when his back was turned I

went to Howell’s office. She was talking to Dragon on a headset,

tracking Ruth on her computer. Wilder paced.

“Shouldn’t we call the police?” I asked.

“No point,” Wilder said. “I’m not sure the army could stop

Ruth. And if they know what’s going on, they might take you

and me and Mi-sun and Jacques and put us in little cages with

sawdust and gerbil food.”

“Don’t be dramatic,” I said. “Surely they’d give us bread

and water.”

I stood behind Howell’s chair, looking over her shoulder

until I remembered how annoyed Luther would get when I did

that to him.
Luther
. I felt a jab of homesickness. I’d messaged

him that I was staying longer for a special project. He’d wanted

to know how much longer, and I’d waited to reply until I knew.

Was he logged onto the Japanese teeth-whitening site right now?

Howell’s monitor displayed a map of Texas and a red blip

moving south.

“That’s Ruth,” said Howell.

“She has a locator chip,” Wilder explained.

If Ruth did, then I bet we all did. I thought over each poke

and prod over the past weeks. One shot had seemed odd—in my

ankle. I felt around, discovering a tiny lump on my left ankle

that wasn’t on my right. I sat on the floor in the corner, where

Howell and Wilder couldn’t see me. I took off an outlet cover,

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Shannon Hale

pulled out some wires, and using a screwdriver, rubber door

stopper, and paper clip, I sent some pointed electricity into that

spot on my ankle, frying the locator chip.

“I’m telling you,” Wilder was saying to Howell, “the other

four members of the fireteam are equipped to stop her.”

Howell rubbed her head in frustration, kicking up a mass

of curly hair. “I couldn’t predict this.”

I could hear a crackle on Howell’s headset.

“Keep her in your sights, Dragon,” said Howell.

“Attacking will set her off. Offer her food,” Wilder said and

Howell repeated.

Dragon was shouting. I could hear the panic, even though

I couldn’t understand the words.

After a minute the sound stopped. Howell stared at the

floor, taking deep breaths. She looked at Wilder.

“Get the rest of your team,” she said.

I offered to stay behind and build some Ruthless-proof

handcuffs, but Wilder had me quickly sketch the plans for How-

ell’s team to build.

“The fireteam has to stay together,” he said.

Jacques had been in the pool and Mi-sun target shooting

outside, so they both had to be caught up to speed in the heli-

copter.

“This is bad,” Mi-sun whispered.

“So if I ran off like Ruth,” said Jacques, “you all would,

what, hunt me down? Take me out?”

“You’re not going to run off,” said Wilder.

“Jacques, she killed Duarte on purpose,” I said.

“And just now she picked up one of the SUVs the security

guys were driving and threw it at the helicopter,” Wilder said.

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Dangerous

“Three men in the SUV died. Of the four in the helicopter, only

Dragon survived. Ruth escaped.”

Jacques gnawed on an energy bar.

Mi-sun started to cry. “It feels like it’s ending, and I don’t

want it to end.”

I put my arm around her and kind of rubbed her shoulder.

Wilder said her name until Mi-sun looked at him.

“We’re still a team, okay? I need Code Blue. We have to

take care of Ruthless, we have to make it safe for everyone. Are

you still with me?”

She nodded.

Wilder had brought Mi-sun a belt with two bags that hung

on her hips like holsters. No paint balls this time—one held

screws, the other cut pipes. I doubted they’d even bruise Ruth.

I spotted Ruth below us, running across a two-lane high-

way. A few kilometers away there was a town, and beyond that,

the Gulf of Mexico. The helicopter passed her, and we landed

between her and the town. Jacques was wearing havoc armor

like a shiny brown body suit under his clothes. He and Mi-sun

went first, Mi-sun holding a havoc-shield. Wilder and I came

up behind. I wore my robot suit but had changed out of the

impact boots. I didn’t want to go hopping when I only meant

to walk.

“Ruth!” Wilder called.

She stopped, squinting at us in the sun. Her posture was

tense, her leg crooked, ready to bolt.

“Hey, sorry about all the mess.” He took off his sunglasses,

squinting in the strong light, and shrugged boyishly. “Howell

and everybody don’t get it. We don’t play by their rules anymore.”

“I promised you,” said Ruth. “I told you I wouldn’t hurt

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anyone. But I . . . I . . .”

“It happened,” he said. “It’s over. I’ll take care of it.”

Ruth put a hand on her chest. “They’re going to try to cut

it out.”

Wilder rolled his eyes. “Like we’ll let them. Come on,

we’re a team.”

He sounded so sincere. Did he mean it? Or was he that

great of an actor?

Ruth rubbed her forehead with the back of her hand.

“One-Arm there said I had to turn myself over to the police.”

“Maisie!” Wilder gave me an incredulous expression. “Seri-

ously, Maisie. You should apologize.”

“S-sorry, Ruth.” This was ridiculous.

“I’m sick of having all those doctors examining us and

watching us like we’re freaks,” Wilder said. “I got Howell to give

us our own place—this huge house off in the country, where we

can figure out what we want to do. The kitchen is amazing. All

the food we want. We’ll eat, hang out, play video games. Eat.”

Ruth was still several meters away, but she took a step closer.

“Stocked kitchen?”

“Oh yeah, fully. It’s amazing. Steaks and pizza, burgers, hot

dogs. You should see the waffle machine. Epic! We’ve got an

entire freezer just for cheesecake. I want one of those soft ice

cream machines—you know, the twisty kind, chocolate and va-

nilla? It’s on order, so hopefully we’ll get it soon.”

“Who’s in the helicopter?”

“Pilot.” Wilder’s expression stiffened.

“And he’s going to just let me get in the helicopter and fly us

to our private clubhouse?”

“Maisie’s going to pilot from now on so we can go it alone,”

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Dangerous

Wilder said.

I was?

“Oh, I forgot a slushie machine for Mi-sun! Sorry, Mi-sun,

I’ll order that too. Anything else you want, Ruth? Like a deep

fryer? We could make donuts.”

Ruth stared at the helicopter as if trying to see past the

glass to the pilot’s face. She rubbed her arms and looked into

the sky.

“Those guys aren’t going to let me just come back. I did

some stuff. Not going to let me, not going to—”

“We
need
you, Ruth. You’re part of the team. You won’t be

safe without us.”

“No,
you
won’t be safe! I should be in charge. I’m strong!”

“You are,” he agreed. “You’re strong, Ruth. You and I—we

won’t let anyone hurt our team.”

“Wait . . .” Ruth’s suspicious squint turned on Wilder. “Are

you lying to me?”

Her face lengthened with a profound sadness, and then

fire filled her eyes. She stalked toward Wilder. She was fast.

Wilder didn’t give any command, but Jacques stepped forward

anyway, blocking her with his armored self. Ruth shoved him

aside. Mi-sun squelched a little scream, scrambled for a pipe

chunk from the bag, shooting it at Ruth. A flash of blue and

Ruth was shoved back through the air, hitting the ground and

rolling backward.

No way to come back from that, I thought, my stomach

tightening.

Wilder must have thought the same because he said, low

and fierce, “Run.”

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He didn’t wait, turning and making for the helicopter. I

could hear thuds behind us. Ruth was running too.

“Get us out of here!” Wilder shouted to the pilot.

I took four strides for every thud I heard. She was close.

The helicopter was closer. I got there just after Wilder and

hauled myself in, Jacques shoving his way in behind me. Mi-

sun had only just grabbed the door when the helicopter started

to lift. Jacques and I grabbed her wrists, pulling her up.

Below us, Ruth jumped. I watched her rise, leaping impos-

sibly high, her arm outstretched.

We’re going to die, I realized with a strange calm. She’s

going to grab the foot of the helicopter and pull us down and

slam us into the ground and we’ll explode into a huge flaming

ball, and Jacques is the only one who will survive the explosion

until Ruthless gets her hands on him, cracks his armor, and

breaks his neck.

But the pilot jerked the helicopter to the side, and Ruth

only managed to swipe it with her fingertips before falling back.

The vehicle tumbled. The four of us weren’t seat-belted, and

we rolled to the other side, thankfully away from the open door.

The pilot pulled us higher just as Ruth hurled a rock, barely

missing us.

Wilder had a megaphone, and he shouted out the door.

“You stupid brute, we’re going to hunt you down and cut

that token out of your chest and give it to someone smarter, and

you’re not strong enough to stop all four of us!”

Dangerous

She screamed something. Jacques stared at Wilder as if

he’d morphed into a giant cockroach.

“Smooth,” I said. “That talked her right down.”

“I’m trying to get her to chase us,” said Wilder. “If she goes

off and hides it’ll be impossible to stop her before she does more

damage. We’ve got to capture her now.”

“She’ll go home,” I said. “She’ll kill her sister.”

“She’s chasing,” said Mi-sun.

I leaned over to look down. Ruth didn’t run so much as

bound, her powerful legs thrusting her forward in huge arcing

strides.

Wilder scanned the horizon. “We need to keep her away

from populated areas, and we need something heavy to slow

her down.”

I pointed to the harbor. “There’s the water.”

“Howell,” he spoke to his headset, “there’s a ship out there,

looks like a cargo vessel. Can you clear the people off?”

And just like that, she could.

Our pilot flew us toward water, skirting the city. A few min-

utes into our flight, Ruth started to slow.

“She doesn’t seem as excited to kill us as she was a few

minutes ago,” I said.

“Swoop us back around,” Wilder told the pilot. “Blue, pelt

her with some screws.”

A handful of screws screamed from Mi-sun’s hands like

buckshot. That would have ripped another person apart but

only knocked Ruth off her feet. Once she gained them, she was

after us.

Near the water’s edge, Wilder employed the megaphone

again. “Nice running, lard bottom, but you can’t run on water.”

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Shannon Hale

She dove in.

We got to the ship ahead of her. I could see a couple of

motorboats carrying away the crew. Wilder asked our pilot to

drop us on the upper deck and then leave. “No need to give her

another target.”

The ship was eerie in its vacancy. Wilder had me inspect

the anchor and a crane used to lift cargo pallets. I hefted my

toolkit off the back of my robot suit and got to work.

Working with technology was instinct to me, in the way

that, once you know how to read, you don’t sound out words

anymore. You just see and know. I examined the clunky thing

and got to work—faster, stronger, quicker, better.

I didn’t have much time. The white splashes Ruth made

while swimming were getting closer.

Wilder was talking to Mi-sun and Jacques. “We can’t let

her knock holes in the ship and sink it. We need to lure her up

here, make her want to kill us.”

“You’re freaking me out, man,” said Jacques.

“Jacques, you’re going to have to get close to her.”

Jacques was patting himself all over, as if testing for weak-

ness in his armor. “I can take a couple of her hits, but—”

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