Snuff was in her orbit, following up the rear of the group, maintaining a conversation with one of Faultline’s non-Case Fifty-Three dorks. Faultline followed the larger group from even further back. Keeping an eye on everything.

Probably staring holes in the back of my head, Tattletale mused.

Faultline position, history, current situation; wary concern, especially of the kids.

The kids. Samuel and Chastity were herding the monsters. Samuel had a muscular arm draped around his shoulders, which he didn’t seem to mind at all, focusing more on the intellectual, emotional challenge of keeping the twelve to fifteen crowd from being at each other’s throats. Juliette, the recently renamed Roman, and Aroa. Coldblooded, hot blooded, and sadistic, respectively.

If she was ever asked to pick a ‘best guess of X kills Y’ pair, choosing from members of the expanded Undersiders and staff, then she really had to narrow it down to something like Rachel and Siemens, Foil and Kirby, Juliette and Roman, or Roman and Juliette.

While Samuel had his hands full with that, the unfortunately-named Chastity flirting with the youngest soldiers while tasked with keeping the younger Heartbroken in line. Flor, Nicholas, Amias, Candy, and Darlene.

For every last one of them, she could picture Alec in at least one moment or scene, doing or saying something that fit that one Heartbroken so well. A look on his face, a thing he had said.

The feral under-twelves were fanning out, and Chicken Little was in their sights. He looked back at Tattletale, nervous.

“Don’t look at me,” Tattletale told him. There was a part of the sidewalk that dipped, causing her foot to have to travel a short distance further, which meant her legs had to adjust her weight. She winced at the adjustment, the pain driving through each of her legs like a phantom movement of the bullet through the tissues. “You wanted to go out in the field, Chicken Little? Show us what you’re made of.”

“We could take him apart,” Juliette said. “Drumstick, thigh, gizzard, the gross leftover bits that get processed and put in chicken nugs.”

“I’d rather keep my gross leftover bits where they belong,” Chicken Little said.

“You’re showing weakness, Chicken Little,” Samuel called out. “I told you not to do that if you want to hang around these guys.”

“I want to hang,” Chicken Little said. “They’re cool when they’re cool, but—”

“But if you act scared then you’re in for it.”

Flor cackled, edging closer as the assembled group walked to where the vehicles were parked. She glanced back at Chastity, checking that her babysitter was still focused on one of the soldiers.

Tattletale watched that with some wary interest as well. If the soldier couldn’t stay focused…

“If I stay put then they’re going to get me.”

“Figure it out,” Samuel said. “Do it fast, because you actually are in danger now.”

“Um,” Chicken Little said. “Chastity. Help.”