“Oh.” Kira blinked. “Well, I need you with the group. You’re a natural leader. And you’re not the only one who can shoot.” She turned to face the line of human refugees. “How many of you can shoot a rifle?”

A few people tentatively raised their hands, and Kira nodded. “Now: How many of you are trained?”

Two hands stayed up. Kira swallowed her sudden guilt and self-loathing, forcing herself to think of the group, and pointed to the heavier of the two. “What’s your name?”

“Jordan.” The rest of the column shuffled past them, trudging onward through the snow.

“Let me do it,” said Levi. “I’m a better shot.”

“You’ve never seen me shoot,” said Jordan. Levi merely raised his eyebrow.

Kira handed Jordan a rifle and pointed to the window above them. “I want you to go up there, watch behind us, and shoot any pursuers you see.”

Jordan looked back and forth between Kira and Levi, processing the request.

“Accuracy isn’t as important as just keeping them busy,” said Kira. “If you’re as good as you said you were, you’ll be fine.”

“Until they shoot me or capture me,” said Jordan.

Kira clenched her jaw. “Look, I know it’s a lot to ask, but you would be—”

Jordan grabbed the rifle from Kira’s hand. “Hells yeah, I’ll do it.” He checked the sights. “The world’s ending anyway, and if I get to go down taking out a bunch of Partial bastards—” He glanced nervously at Levi. “I mean, enemies. Enemy soldiers. Sorry about that, friend. Old habits.”

Another shot rang out, and a refugee in the back of the line fell down with a strangled cry. Kira shouted for the others to hurry, then looked back at Jordan. “You can save a lot of people.”

Jordan let out a long, nervous breath, then checked the rifle one more time. “I was getting sick of walking anyway. Bad leg.”

“You’re a hero,” said Kira.

“Then do me a favor and keep enough of these people alive to remember me.” Jordan turned and stomped through the snow. Kira ran back toward the fallen refugee, but Green and the human supporting him waved her away.

“He’s dead,” said Green. “Get this line moving faster.”

“You’re the weak link,” Kira shouted back, trying to sound playful but knowing she’d failed miserably.

“I’m going to catch up to you and slap you in the mouth,” said Green, teasing much more successfully than Kira had. She looked at the two sniper victims, facedown and motionless in the snow, fading into the cold gray storm as the group walked on. She pushed forward, encouraging where she could, prodding and cajoling, trying to keep the column moving. Another sharp crack split the air, closer and with a markedly different sound; Jordan had started firing.

The army was getting close.