“Think the others heard us?” I ask Adam, as we step around the bent metal gate and into Ashwood Estates.

“Our entrance did lack subtlety,” Adam observes.

Sam’s voice crackles in my ear.

“Four of them running up the access road,” Sam warns. “Blasters ready.”

The access road is uphill with a slight bend at the top after which we’ll be at the housing development. There isn’t a whole lot of cover on the way.

“Stay behind me,” I tell Adam.

Just then, the Mogs come around the bend. They don’t ask any questions before unleashing a volley of blaster fire. Adam leaps behind me just as my shield deploys—it’s like a parachute exploding out of my arm, the rippling crimson material spreading to absorb the blasts. Adam grabs hold of the back of my shirt.

“Go forward,” he says.

I do, the shield absorbing more blaster fire as I press towards the Mogs. The bracelet is now a steady, numbingly painful buzz against my wrist. Carefully following my steps to keep from getting shot, Adam pops around the edge of the shield, gunning down two of the Mogs in one go. Realizing they’re not making any progress, the other two try to retreat. I lower my shield and launch a fireball that explodes between them, knocking them both to the ground. Adam finishes them off with some well-aimed gunfire. Out of danger for now, my shield retracts back into my bracelet.

“Not bad,” I tell him.

“We’re just getting started,” he replies.

We run down the access road around the bend, and the opulent homes of Ashwood Estates finally come into view. There’s no one out and all the windows are dark; the whole place feels like a ghost town. To our right, I see Adam’s old house, and a few houses down from that is the trash truck and the high-tech chair the engineer was inspecting. The salvage teams, the engineer and the General are nowhere to be seen.

“They’re coming from the backyard!” Sam yells.

Both Adam and I spin around in time to see a squadron of Mog warriors sneaking towards us between two of the houses. It would’ve been a pretty good ambush if we didn’t have scouts perched in their trees. As they raise their blasters, Adam is ready. He stomps the ground and a concussive wave of force rolls in their direction, pavement and chunks of grass rippling upward. The closest Mogs are completely thrown off their feet, others stagger and one of them accidentally discharges his blaster into another’s back.

“I’ll finish them off!” I tell Adam. “You go make sure they aren’t calling reinforcements.”

Adam nods, then sprints across the lawn towards his old house. Meanwhile, next to the stunned Mogadorians, I notice a metal tank that came unmoored from where it was attached to a house. With my hearing focused, I can hear a faint hiss emanating from the tank. I almost laugh at my luck.

It’s a gas line.