“Exactly. We should do better.” Robin slung her weapon behind her shoulder and ran her hand along the surface of the building. “None of this makes any sense. We have what may be a town, though it looks analogous to an ancient structure. But there are signs of recent habitation and not-too-distant abandonment. Yet a recent firefight.”

“This char pattern makes sense. Sorta. Look at the blast patterns. There, there, and there.” Anitra pointed to differing sections along the wall. “But compare that to the striation patterns here and here.”

“Different ordnance? That’s not unusual. It’s not like we all are toting a DMX.” Robin hefted her Busta.

“No, but the basic tech and charges of our weapons are the same.” Anitra held out her weapon. “With all this cross fire, consider me the welcome wagon in full defense mode.”

“Two forces. In a recent firefight over an abandoned city,” Fela said.

“Looks that way,” Anitra said.

“Did I mention that I don’t like this?” Robin studied the skyline.

“And that none of this makes any sense,” Epyc Ro said. “HOVA on me. We’re moving out.”

“Captain?” Fela asked.

Epyc Ro whirled to face her, anticipating her challenge. “Back to the extraction point.”

“No, I mean there.” Fela pointed to the horizon.

A cloud of dust raised on the horizon and neared quickly. Vehicles skimmed the surface of the desert sand. The force closed off the route the Hellfighters arrived on. When Epyc Ro turned to calculate a retreat course, figures emerged from some of the structures behind them. Most of them armed.

“What have you led us into, Commander?” Epyc Ro backed toward Fela.

“Looks like a trap.” Fela raised her weapon. “Lock and load, ladies. Time to live up to our namesake.”

06 WACHIRU ADISA
The Dreaming City

Our dreams were stolen from us yet again. And we were relieved.

As the darkness of our dreams faded, all that remained in their wake was the sense—the urgency—of a threat. That inescapable feeling that something was building. And coming for us.

“Lights.” Our eyes barely opened, without much alertness, but we knew that what passed for our sleep had ended for this night cycle. The images that disquieted our emi had completely retreated, leaving only a foreboding cloud of loss. Maya brought up the lights and the volume to our morning music playlist to their preset levels. They kept the volume low as if not wanting to jar us fully awake.

<Is everything all right, Wachiru?> Maya asked, their tone ever neutral and even.

“I got so much trouble on my mind, refuse to lose.” We recited the ancient lyrics. We drew up in our bed. It morphed to adjust to the new position of our tall, lanky frame. Even without checking, we knew from the heaviness of our emi what day it was. Today was the anniversary of us losing Anyah.