“Well, we don’t have to plan for a war, do we?” Serina said. “And we can save our ammunition too. If we choose the ten best girls, the ones who’ve picked it up really quickly and won’t need as much practice to hone their aim, and we station them along the ridges above the pier, hidden where the boat guards can’t see them, we can pick off the guards as they wander the pier trying to figure out what happened.”

“Or I could go down to the pier like I did with Nomi’s boat. Play the part until we get the new girls out of sight, and then we could overwhelm the guards and lock them into cells.” Val glanced over at Serina.

She knew what he wanted. He saw himself in the men transporting the female prisoners; he wondered if there was one man, even just one, who ached for the women in pain. He wanted to save them, those hypothetical guards, just in case.

She took his hand. “We have hardly enough food for ourselves. We’ve already committed to releasing the surviving guards with any remaining supplies on the island and letting them fend for themselves, most likely sentencing them to a slow death by starvation. We can’t spare the boat guards, just to make them suffer the same fate. And there are so many more things that could go wrong.” She squeezed his hand. It wasn’t as if she reveled in the thought of killing anyone, even these men. “Remember, these guards will know the protocols. They’ll know something is wrong.”

Val sighed. “I know. I just hate picking them off, not giving them a chance to defend themselves.”

Anika made a derisive noise.

Serina could guess what the girl was thinking. But she merely said, “It’s safer this way. And it’ll save our ammunition. We should take the firearms with us to Azura. We don’t know for certain that they’re as friendly as you say… and if they are, the weapons may be useful to trade or sell.”

Val nodded reluctantly. “It’s a good plan. I’ll pay attention in the next round of training, try to pick out the girls with the most potential.”

Serina nodded.

The four markswomen were handing their firearms to the next women in line, when a ragged scream echoed through the clear afternoon air. Serina’s head snapped around.

“What was that?” she yelled, already moving toward the sound.

A handful of women ran up the path. Serina and Anika took off after them.

Another scream.

Serina pushed through the crowd. A woman lay on the path, arms and legs akimbo, her neck at an unnatural angle. Serina knelt beside her, panic coursing through her body. What had happened?