Marlowe
The first wave hit the northern fence hard enough that I felt the impact through the ground before I registered the sound of it, engines and gunfire colliding in a chaos that swallowed whatever careful drilling Wrench and Nova had managed to cram into our last stolen hour together.
"Second line," King shouted, already moving toward the breach, and I understood, even mid-crisis, that he was trying one last time to keep me clear of the worst of it.
"Not happening." I grabbed the nearest weapon and moved with him instead, refusing to let old fear override the promise I'd made myself the moment Vance's threat became real — that whatever came, I'd face it as myself, not as someone hiding behind a safer position while everyone else bled for this club.
The fighting blurred together fa
