I remember Phiri Dun-Ra’s bandaged hands, scarred from coming into contact with the Sanctuary’s force field. We should’ve known better than to leave one of them alive. Even before Adam reaches the nearest ship, I’ve got a sinking feeling.

Adam ducks underneath the other ship, examining it. He sighs and makes eye contact with me before gently elbowing the armored hull above his head. The engine panel falls away like there was nothing holding it in place.

“She’s toying with us,” he says, his voice low and gravelly. “She could’ve taken a shot at us when we left the Sanctuary. Instead, she wants to keep us here.”

“She knows she can’t take us by herself,” I say, raising my voice a little, thinking maybe I can bait Phiri Dun-Ra out of hiding.

“She removed these parts, right?” Marina asks. “She didn’t just destroy them?”

“No, it looks like she took them,” Adam replies. “Probably doesn’t want to be responsible for destroying a bunch of ships in addition to getting her squadron killed. Although, keeping us here long enough for reinforcements to capture and kill us would probably get her a pass from her Beloved Leader.”

“No one’s getting captured or killed,” I say. “Except Phiri Dun-Ra.”

“Is there any other way to get our ship moving?” Marina asks Adam. “Could you . . . I don’t know? Rig something up?”

Adam scratches the back of his neck, looking around at the other ships. “I suppose it’s possible,” he says. “Depends what we can scrounge together. I can try, but I’m not a mechanic.”

“That’s one idea,” I say, looking up at the sky to see how much daylight we have left. Not much. “Or, we could go out into that jungle, track down Phiri Dun-Ra and get our part back.”

Adam nods. “I prefer that plan.”

I look at Marina. “What about you?”

I don’t even have to ask. The sweat on my arms tingles—she’s radiating an aura of cold.

“Let’s go hunting,” Marina says.

CHAPTER

THREE

UNDER IDEAL CONDITIONS, THE WALK TO UNION Square should take about forty minutes. It’s only a mile and a half. But these are far from ideal conditions. Sam and I are backtracking along the same blocks we spent the afternoon fighting through. Back to where the Mogadorian presence is heavier.

Hopefully, Nine and Five don’t kill each other before we get there. We need them if we’re going to have any shot at winning this war.

Both of them.

Sam and I stick to the shadows. Some blocks still have electricity, so the streetlights are on, shining like it’s a normal evening in the big city, as if the roads aren’t littered with overturned cars and broken chunks of pavement. We avoid those blocks, knowing it will be too easy for the Mogs to spot us.