“Roland found me,” Sasha said, “after they took you. I told him that Alexander had mentioned a factory and then, well, he seemed to know this must be the factory they’d been talking about.”

Thanks for that, Reggie.

“He told me he was going to, ah…,” she coughed a little and her cheeks reddened in embarrassment. “To ‘feed them their own dicks,’ and that I should wait until they were engaged to run in and drag you out.”

A loud explosion echoed across the cityscape, and the trio watched a small orange mushroom cloud light up the sky where the Tesla factory had been.

“It’s about damn time,” Roland grumbled. “The detonators those fuckers stole from the Republic were garbage. Hey,” he looked over to Manny, “what the hell was that place, anyway?”

“Yes,” Sasha added, “and how exactly did you end up getting shot there?”

Manny related the whole story as best as he could. Sasha’s face went pale white with outrage and disgust when he explained exactly how the Heavenly Kingdom had managed to get its suicide vehicles past the SDF’s checkpoints.

“Oh God,” she moaned, “oh God above, no no NO!”

Roland just laughed. “That’s as clever as a two-headed crow, I’ll give them that.” He clapped Sasha on the shoulder. “C’mon, lady, you can’t still be surprised by how fucked the Kingdom is. How many people did you watch them hang?”

Sasha didn’t respond. She just sat there, eyes red and watery, and stared out at the burning factory. Manny felt like he should have said something, but his mind was still catching up to his body after the events of the last couple of hours. Staring straight ahead represented the extent of his abilities right now.

“Sorry,” Roland said in response to the silence. “I forget you kids aren’t used to this sort of shit. I’ll tell you, it gets easier.”

“What, almost dying?” asked Manny.

“Or being betrayed by the only thing you ever believed in?” asked Sasha.

Roland shrugged. “Both, I guess. Neither is much fun. But hey, y’all popped some cherries today. So it’s gonna be nothing but downhill from here on out.”

Neither of them responded, but Roland plowed right along.

“I meant ‘downhill’ in the positive sense of the word. Like sledding, or something.”

More silence. Roland sighed and took a loud gulp from a piece of sheet metal he’d bent into a make-shift cup. The beverage inside smelled like another batch of his gut liquor. It burned Manny’s nose from three feet away. A minute went by, and then another, without a word. They listened as emergency sirens sounded and drew closer to the site of the blast.

“So, what the fuck do we do now?” Manny asked.

Roland grunted, and then belched.