Chương 21: Bk 1 Ch 19: Preparation

The Fern Street Community Center isn't quite open yet; there's still a little bit of refurbishing left to be done, sections of wall that need to be repainted. None of it has anything to do what what we need it for, which is just a centralized meeting place that isn't anyone's house. Currently, the gang has forty three members spread out across six cells, not including myself. The sixteen who've joined me tonight are the ones who said they'd be willing to fight in more than just self-defense.

Mark is here, the only one of my lieutenants who volunteered. Four of his subordinates have joined him, the most from any cell, including Zach and AJ. Cassie is here too, one of only two girls. I can't help but worry about her a little, but I didn't try and talk her out of it. The most important member tonight, though, is a guy named Jeremy. He's one of our newer members, a little older than most of us, in his mid thirties.

More relevantly, he's an ex-Marine, dishonorably discharged after getting caught selling drugs to his unit. Apparently, he's already picked up the nickname Sarge. I arrive last, so everyone is already waiting for me. Conversation quickly dies off as I walk to the front of the room, then turn and float a couple of feet into the air to give myself a little extra presence.

"Thank you all for coming," I begin.

"You all know the reason why you're here. Civilians might fool themselves into thinking that the police will protect them, but we know better. The only people we can trust to protect us is ourselves. And although I intend to take on the greatest part of that burden, I can't be everywhere. I need your help."

"Surf 'n Turf has decided that since we won't join their suicidal war against the Columbia Syndicate, we must be their enemy as well. This isn't a fight that we chose, but I intend to make sure it's a fight that we win. We will not allow ourselves to be driven out of our home, and if they refuse to be deterred, I fully intend to see that it's them who are removed from Franklin, one way or another. But the only way that will happen is if we fight intelligently.

And that begins with ensuring that every single one of you knows how to fight."

"For those of you who don't know him, this is Sarge. He's going to be spending the next week teaching you how to avoid getting yourself killed. I'm aware that some of you have jobs, or school. This takes precedence. Take time off, call in sick, quit, whatever you need to do in order to be there. If that's not a commitment you can make, then putting your life on the line to defend the rest of us isn't a commitment you can make either. But commitment also deserves to be rewarded.

Completing this first week will earn you a thousand dollars. Continuing to act as an enforcer will earn you another thousand dollars every month after that, in addition to what you make for yourself selling product." It's a bit risky; I don't actually have sixteen thousand dollars right now, although I certainly will by the end of the next weekend unless something goes catastrophically wrong. I'm glad the community center looks like it'll mostly end up paying for itself, because paying for Mr.

Sterling, Officer Maloney, and now this is going to eat up the lion's share of the gang's current income. Still, a thousand dollars feels like the absolute least I can offer them for what I'm asking. I gesture for Sarge to come up. He's a fairly tall guy, around six feet, with a short beard and buzzcut, and a couple tattoos just visible on his neck above his shirt.

"While you're training, I expect you to obey Sarge absolutely, for your own safety. You're going to be learning how to kill people, and you should treat that with the seriousness it deserves. Anyone who puts themselves or someone else in danger will answer to me. I'm trusting all of you with the lives of the Sun Eaters. Show me that trust is deserved." Then I sink back down to the floor and nod to Sarge.

"Go ahead."

"Alright, listen up you little shits!" he immediately barks.

"There's only one way to turn a little shit into a Marine, and that's boot camp. God himself couldn't whip your asses into shape in just one week, and neither can I. If you expect to come out of this as a supreme ultimate badass, you'd better resign yourself to disappointment right now! Hell, I'll consider it a minor miracle if none of you shoot holes in your own feet by the end of the week.

But I promise you this: On the off chance you do manage that, you'll be doing a damn sight better than the idiots you'll be going up against. If I do my job, then a week from now, you're gonna be cursing the day my mama pushed me out. But a year from now, when you're still breathing and the other guy isn't, I damn well better hear you singing my praises!"

"We meet tomorrow at seven AM sharp, in the parking lot of the Walmart out West 19th. If you don't know how you'll get out there, I suggest you figure it out now. Anyone who doesn't show is out, no second chances. From there, we'll be heading out of town, which means I need some drivers. Whose Explorer is that out there in the parking lot?" No one immediately answers.

"It damn well better be someone's!"

"It's, uh, it's mine," says a guy named Sean, another newer member.

"Well, congratulations, you just volunteered! Who else's got a car you can actually fit some shit in?" I stand by silently as the details get hammered out. A few people look like they might be having some regrets, but I did make it as clear as possible what they'd be signing up for, and others seem eager. I doubt everyone will end up making it through the whole week, but hopefully most of them will.

Although I've made sure all my people are armed just in case, there's a big difference between having a gun and actually knowing how to use it. Telling a bunch of random stoners to go shoot someone is an absolutely terrible idea for multiple reasons, no matter how badly outnumbered we are. A week of training might not be much, but it's a hell of a lot better than nothing, and I'm hoping it'll be more than our opponents have. Given how early I'm expecting them all to get up, I don't keep them too late.

The meeting wraps up around ten, once all the ammo, targets, and other training supplies have been distributed. I'm planning on dropping in on their training at least once or twice, although it's a bit tricky since the large majority of it will be happening during the day. I guess I can technically fly around while it's light out now, everyone already knows I'm here, but regularly making a spectacle of myself still feels like a bad idea. I still have another appointment to make, though.

This time, I meet Officer Maloney in the park on the far side of the river, in a wooded area within walking distance of his apartment. I told him I'd meet him at eleven, so I've got plenty of time to get there early and hide myself in a tree, watching to make sure there's no funny business going on. A couple minutes before eleven, a figure in a heavy coat, a scarf, and a wool hat comes down the path, looks carefully around for a moment, and then sits on the bench.

It's a pretty good disguise, especially since it's cold enough out to justify it anyway, but I can't imagine it's anyone else. I descend down in front of him, not particularly intending to take him by surprise, but he still jumps a little when he notices me.

"Thank you for being punctual," I say.

"Sure," he mutters, standing.

"I got what you asked for. Didn't want to risk actually making any copies, had to leave out some details, but the names and the important bits are all here." He pulls a spiral notebook out from under his coat and passes it over. It's dark enough that even I need to squint a little to read it, but it seems to be exactly what he said it is. Nodding, I make the notebook vanish, and a paper lunchbag appears in its place.

"Well done," I say, handing it to him.

"Two thousand, as agreed." Unlike me, he actually needs to pull out a little flashlight to see what's inside. He examines it for a few seconds, but doesn't actually bother counting it all this time. Neither of us really trust the other, but if either of us decides to screw the other over, it's not going to be something as petty as shortchanging.

"I'll contact you if anything important comes up."

"And I'll contact you if I have any further questions," I say.

"Otherwise, I'll see you again in one month."

"Right." He turns and walks away without saying anything else, and I leave as well. It's late enough that I don't want to drop in on Mr. Sterling unless there's something critical, so I just fly home to examine the info myself for now. Like he warned, it's a little sparse, although at least he's got decent handwriting. The good news is that Mark's cell is the only one that's been exposed even slightly. There's a long list of people they're looking at as possible members, but the vast majority of them aren't.

I'm a bit relieved to see that Jess and David aren't on the list. Rick, one of our newer suppliers, is on the list, but they don't actually have anything on him, and there's nothing to make him stand out from any of the other names. I'll still give him a heads-up to be extra careful. The not so good news is that they've identified Mark himself as likely someone important, although they don't actually have anything actionable.

They've identified most of his cell, as well, although there are again a few names who aren't actually members. Zach and AJ are obviously prime suspects, but to their credit, they've been real careful since their first fuck-up and haven't given the cops any excuse for a warrant. But another of Mark's guys, Nick, got covertly photographed during a deal, which was enough to authorize a tap on his phone.

Fortunately, everyone's been practicing good phone hygiene, so not too much has come of it yet, but they have been building up a network of numbers. Everyone who's been compromised will need to get a new prepaid cellphone, which is a bit annoying. But it doesn't look like they're planning to actually arrest anyone until they're absolutely sure they can nail them to the wall.

They're also scrutinizing everyone's taxes, but are holding off on asking for an audit in hopes that they can learn more without tipping us off. Reassuringly, they've got virtually nothing on my own identity. Currently, they've got a handful of incidents involving unknown magicals from all across the country, along with missing person cases they could potentially be connected to. That aspect of the investigation seems to have mostly fallen by the wayside due to a lack of progress.

It makes me glad I decided to get emancipated properly; they seem to be considering only unsolved missing person cases, so my name probably never came across their desk at all. The other part of the report concerns Surf 'n Turf. There's less detail here even though the cops have more information, probably because I said it was less important. He's still given me a handful of names that they're pretty sure are high-up in the gang, though, which could definitely be extremely useful.

Apparently, the cops also have a pretty strong lead on Barracuda's civilian identity; the Syndicate's massacre of her former gang left plenty of people dead or missing, but not that many of the right gender and age, and they eventually found bodies for all but two. She'll be using a fake name, of course, and her appearance might have changed significantly from the photos the cops have, but it seems likely that they'll track her down within the next year or two.

It's good news, but it doesn't really solve my immediate problem. The cops and the looming gang war aren't the only problems I've got on my plate. Anja's been putting up a solid front since the mall, but it's still hard to really get her enthusiastic about anything. At least Lisa tells me privately that she's pretty sure Anja's kept her promise to stop hurting herself.

Neither of them have brought up Elliot at all; on the one hand, it's a bit of a shame my idea didn't work out, but I'm glad it's not going to explode in my face. My next idea for her should be significantly less risky. At lunch on Friday, I pull a flier out of my backpack.

"Hey Anja, you should check this out." She takes it, frowning.

"An after-school theater class for little kids?"

"Yeah, apparently the guy in charge is, like, the retired theater teacher from Pine Creek. A friend told me he's looking for some kids to help him run it. You should totally give him a call, I bet he'd hire you."

"... Huh," says Anja.

"I dunno, maybe."

"Come on, this is perfect!" enthuses Lisa, leaning over to read the flier as well.

"Three days a week for two hours, that's not a huge commitment, and you could make some decent money. At least give it a try, the worst he can say is no, right?" Anja sighs, clearly understanding that Lisa isn't going to leave her alone until she does. She glances back over the flier again.

"What's this place it's at?" I shrug.

"Some kinda community center or something, apparently it just opened?"

"Oh, that's actually super close to my house, just a few blocks away," says Lisa.

"If you got hired, I bet my mom would give you a ride over while she's taking me home, and then you could come over afterwards!"

"Alright, fine, I'll call him, jeez," says Anja, rolling her eyes.

"I doubt he'll even hire me anyway, he's probably looking for like juniors and seniors." I leave it at that, trusting that Lisa will make sure she does actually call. I can't guarantee she'll get hired, but I'm giving her a head start over anyone else who might want to apply, so hopefully that'll be enough. It's not going to really fix the root of her problems, but I'm pretty sure doing something even slightly useful will help at least a little, and having a little extra cash should help too.

"Thanks for the tip," says Lisa, giving me an appreciative smile.

"Where'd you hear about it?"

"Friend of a friend," I say, shrugging. She nods, accepting the vague answer.

"Oh, hey, by the way, do you know where Cassie's been? I haven't gotten a chance to invite her to my birthday party yet."

"She's out of town for like a week," I reply easily.

"Your birthday isn't until the weekend after this, right? She'll definitely be back by then."

"Oh, okay, cool," says Lisa.

"What's she doing?"

"Some kinda family thing, I think," I say, shrugging. Lisa nods, but I catch Tyler giving me a sharp look. He knows Cassie better, well enough to know that she doesn't really do 'family things.' I wouldn't be surprised if he had some questions for me later.

"Hey, Gabby," says Anja.

"D'you think you can pass on an invitation to your friend Elliot? Lisa never got his number." Only long years of experience lets me hide my surprise.

"Sure, no problem," I say, smiling.

"He's busy a lot, though, so I dunno if he'll be able to make it." Again, I notice that Lisa isn't as good at hiding her reactions as me or Anja, although to be fair, there's probably no reason why she'd think she'd need to. She frowns, glancing at Anja, and opens her mouth to say something before thinking better of it. I pretend not to see anything.

"Cool, no problem if he can't, just wanted to pass the word along," says Anja.

"What does he do?"

"His parents have some kind of business he works for, don't remember exactly what," I reply casually, considering. Anja and Lisa clearly argued about this at some point, and Anja convinced Lisa to go along with her. Why? Maybe it's as simple as Anja wanting to somehow prove Lisa wrong, but that doesn't feel right. If she doesn't believe Lisa about Elliot being Apollo, why would it be worth arguing about?

And if she does believe her, or at least thinks there's a significant chance she's right, wouldn't she want to keep her distance? I understand the need to take risks sometimes, but I don't understand what her motivation is, and it makes me uncomfortable. I'm still chewing over it a little while later, when Tyler sits down next to me while Alex is in the bathroom.

"So, what's Cassie actually doing?" he asks me quietly. I consider him for a moment, then shrug.

"Some kinda work thing. She wasn't real specific, but she seemed excited about. I don't think it's anything to worry about." He frowns silently for a minute, then asks, "What d'you think of her, uh, job?"

"I dunno that much about it, but I know she's been raking in cash," I say.

"She's made like two thousand bucks in just the last couple months. And she's been hooking us all up, too. Seems like a pretty sweet deal to me, as long as she keeps being careful."

"... Yeah," says Tyler.

"D'you… D'you think she'd give me an in?" I raise an eyebrow, not bothering to hide my surprise this time.

"Dunno, you'd have to ask her. What brought that on?"

"I mean, it's like you said, it's a pretty sweet deal, right?" he says.

"And if that's all there is to it, then why not? But if that's not all there is to it, then I figured maybe she could use someone to watch her back." So far, I haven't really been recruiting anyone except all at once when I make a new cell. There hasn't really been much reason to; we've already got plenty of dealers for the amount of product we can grow ourselves or buy wholesale, and I'm not about to start recruiting people just to use as cannon fodder.

Obviously I can't make an exception just for Tyler, but maybe it's better to start laying the groundwork to expand now, before we really need to. Maybe start bringing in some associates, to see who can be trusted? I'll give it some more thought later. For now, I just say, "Well, she told me she'll be back next week. You can ask her then, if you still want to."

"Sure," he says, nodding. Honestly, I probably wouldn't have expected running a gang to be such a tricky business before I started one; I'd kind of just assumed you sold drugs and made money and occasionally killed someone and that was all there was to it. A lot of gangs probably are run that way, the Wildfire Boys being the most relevant example. But it gets a lot more complicated when you're concerned with things like surviving for more than six months.

I need more people and especially more enforcers to properly secure the territory I've claimed, but I need more income to recruit them, and I can't safely increase my income until I've secured my territory. I'm gonna be at a disadvantage for the foreseeable future no matter what I do, which means I'm gonna have to get clever. In the meantime, I can still get the most out of what I have right now.

We've already gone through most of the ecstasy we bought from the Syndicate, a timely infusion of cash given how much I've been spending lately. I've arranged another meeting tonight to get more, but there's another purpose to the meeting as well. Just because I have immediate threats to deal with doesn't mean I can afford to ignore the much larger long-term danger. I again meet Huntsman on the roof of a building just before midnight, this time the big department store just across the river.

The Syndicate has to own proper front businesses that could host a meeting, but we're not quite at that level of trust yet. I'm fairly sure offering to meet on neutral ground is actually a sign of respect, both in not demanding that I come to them, and in acknowledging that I'm a large enough potential threat that they'd rather not show me any of their assets. Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. We're both very punctual.

This time, I dismiss my staff before descending, the correct decision given that he doesn't have his rifle out either.

"Huntsman," I say, offering him a nod.

"Schwarzschild," he says, nodding back.

"I assume you're satisfied with the quality of our product. Are you ready to agree to an ongoing arrangement?"

"I believe I'd rather stay with another one-time purchase for now," I reply.

"We may soon be entering a period of… instability."

"That so?" asks Huntsman, raising an eyebrow.

"It is," I say.

"And I doubt you're very surprised to hear it. Was failing to tell me how deep Barracuda's grudge against the Syndicate runs intended as a test?" He snorts.

"I s'pose you could call it that, in a sense. I take it they've thrown down the gauntlet, then?"

"Yes. As I assume you expected." Pushing him even a little is risky, but in the long term, not pushing back at all would be just as bad. I'll have to strike a careful balance.

"Yeah, you're right. I did expect it. What of it?" he challenges. My suspicion that this is some sort of test is growing. Again, I can't afford to take too much offense, but I can't afford to just let it slide, either.

"A warning wouldn't have given me all that much additional time to prepare, but it would have been polite. And you strike me as the type to be polite unless you have a reason not to." He chuckles slightly.

"You are pretty good at this, huh? Alright, sure. Here's a little honesty for you. No matter what happens next, we win. Maybe you end up just getting yourself killed, in which case you weren't worth our trouble after all. Maybe you put up a good fight, but the disadvantage is too big. In that case, you'll probably end up having no choice but to come to us for help, and you already know what the price for that will be. Or maybe you'll actually manage to win in spite of the disadvantage.

In that case, you'll have taken care of another problem for us, and you'll have proved you're worth making serious concessions to bring on board. You chose to do things the hard way, and I respect that, but that means no one's gonna hold your hand."

"The things that make me valuable are the same things that make me a potential threat," I counter.

"What guarantees do I have that you won't let me take down Barracuda and Obsidian for you, and then dispose of me once I'm no longer useful?"

"You don't," says Huntsman bluntly.

"I'm not gonna make you any promises, because even if I'm telling the truth, it's not up to me. But I will tell you this: You don't become the most powerful magical in the Pacific Northwest by never taking risks. The Golden Empire Cartel outnumbers us in magicals almost two to one, and the white masks are always recruiting too. None of them are as strong as Surtr, and that's a pretty good deterrent, but we're not gonna rely on just that. You're already stronger than our weakest members.

If you can get even as strong as me, you'd be a major boost to our total power. Preemptively killing every potential heavy hitter might be the safer option in the short term, but in the longer term, it pretty much guarantees we'll eventually get overrun." I slowly nod.

"One more question, then," I say, and he gestures for me to continue.

"I'd like to hear your side of the story regarding the Party Crashers."

"There's not that much to it," he says, shrugging.

"I won't deny we wiped them out, just like Barracuda probably told you. But I'll tell you this: We didn't start the killing. We moved into their territory, yeah, we roughed up some of their guys, yeah, but the first actual shots came from their side. Even then, we gave 'em one last chance to surrender, but Blitz took that as a sign of weakness. So we retaliated. And once you've killed someone's friends, they're gonna be your enemy forever.

Doesn't matter what you offer them, they're always gonna be looking for a chance to even the scales. Look at Barracuda, she got away, and now here she is being a pain in our ass again. The Syndicate would rather negotiate peace, but if we can't, we're fine settling for the other kind of peace instead." Honestly, the naked ruthlessness is kind of reassuring.

If he'd tried to convince me the Party Crashers had been somehow a special case and didn't represent the Syndicate's usual policy, I definitely would've assumed he was bullshitting me. He might still be bullshitting me, of course, but again, everything I've seen from Huntsman so far suggests that he's scrupulously honest unless he's got a specific reason not to be. Still, I find myself slightly bothered by what he said about never trusting someone once you've killed someone they care about.

There are exceptions to every rule, but they're called exceptions precisely because they're rare. It's not important right now, though, so I try to put it out of my mind.

"Then I hope we can continue to build trust," I say.

"From both sides." Huntsman snorts.

"You definitely talk the talk," he says.

"We'll see if you can walk the walk. Same deal as before?"

"Same deal as before," I agree. I arrange the delivery for next week, once Mark and the others are done with their crash course combat training. I've been keep somewhat close tabs on them, and it sounds like it's been going fairly well so far. Sarge has been dividing the time between brutal physical exercise, firearm safety and target practice, other useful skills like first-aid, and games of paintball.

Two people dropped out on the very first day, and another on the second, but everyone else has stuck with it so far. When I talked to Cassie the other day, she was exhausted and sporting some impressive welts, but insisted she was still having an amazing time. I don't involve myself directly until close to the end, mostly because there's not really that much I can do to help anyway.

Sarge does eventually ask me to make an appearance, though, claiming that the training won't be complete until everyone's had at least one good scare. Most of the training has been during the day, but on Monday night, he keeps them out a little later. I fly out around six, well after dark this time of year. The training has mostly been happening out in clear-cut sections of forest, the same kind of place I spar against Elliot.

Even though I only know the general direction, it doesn't take me too long to find them thanks to the big bonfire they've got going. I watch everyone from the air for a little while, but don't join them around the fire; it would ruin the surprise. There's no cellphone signal out here, so I wait until Sarge gets up to go to one of the cars, then float down, tossing a pinecone to get his attention. He immediately glances up, finding me in the darkness after a couple of seconds. I give him a nod, and he nods back.

"Alright, people, listen up!" he shouts when he gets back to the fire.

"As a reward for all your hard work, we got a little game planned tonight. A scavenger hunt. There's a whole shitload of glowsticks out in the woods. For every glowstick you bring me, you get to skip one lap tomorrow, and spend the time on extra target practice instead."

"Yeah, what's the catch, asshole?" shouts back a guy named Dylan, and everyone chuckles.

"Catch is, there's a monster in the woods. Here's the rules: The monster's scared of the light, so if you shine your flashlight on it, it has to fuck off and leave you alone for five minutes. But if it touches you, you're dead, and you lose all your glowsticks. The glowsticks last about an hour, so you got that long to grab as many as you can. How you do it is up to you. Game starts in ten minutes."

"Man, I've seen this fuckin' movie before, I know how this ends," complains Tre, the only black guy in the group, drawing more laughter.

"Are you the monster, Sarge?" asks Sean.

"Fuck no, I'm staying right here by the fire."

"Bet it's the boss," says Cassie.

"Shit, bet you're right." I don't stay to listen to more, instead grabbing the box of glowsticks Sarge left on the far side of one of the cars. Then I fly out over the forest, activating and dropping the glowsticks as I go, keeping them within a hundred or so feet of the edge of the clearing. I finish just in time to watch everyone move out towards the trees. It looks like they've decided to split into three groups of four, trying to strike a balance between safety and efficiency.

That's good; part of the goal is to encourage them to work together rather than trying to get the maximum individual rewards. I pick the group closest to me, following them above the trees as they slowly push into the forest. I don't make a move right away, instead waiting until they find their first glowstick.

"Hey, I think that's one over there," I hear someone say, and I descend silently down through the canopy.

"Yeah, looks like," agrees Dylan. He's grouped up with Watson, Kurt, and Tre, all slightly newer members. They're moving slowly, making sure to keep shining their lights in all directions, even up, which is smart of them. But as they reach the glowstick, Dylan bends down to pick it up while Watson and Kurt watch him. Only Tre keeps shining his light around behind them. I decide to leave him be for now, both to reward him for staying responsible and to avoid the stereotype.

"Alright, cool. Let's keep-" There's a gap of maybe five or six feet right in the middle of them, and they're all facing away. I drop right into it, not bothering to touch the ground, and put my hand on Dylan's shoulder. Then, I yank both of us back up into the air at full speed. He screams in surprise, as intended; we're already gone by the time his teammates spin around to look. It takes him a few seconds to stop flailing and screaming, by which time we're back to the bonfire.

I carefully deposit him on his feet, and he immediately collapses on a nearby stump, muttering, "Jesus fucking christ."

"Better luck next time," I say, patting him on the shoulder again and not bothering to hide my amusement. Then I take back off and go in search of another group. This time, I find Mark's group. Zach and AJ are with him, and another one of his subordinates who goes by Hotsauce, a nickname he apparently picked up in prison and decided to keep. They're moving slower and more cautiously, sticking close together and constantly scanning with their lights; I'm guessing they heard the first guy scream.

I feel like Zach and AJ deserve a little break, so I go after Hotsauce first. Like the first group, I wait until they're approaching a glowstick. They're more careful about not letting it distract them, so I shake a tree in the opposite direction with a gravity field. All four of them reflexively snap towards it, allowing me to drop down behind and snatch him. Like before, he screams as I yank him up into the air with me, already gone by the time the others finish turning. The last group I find is Cassie's.

She's with Hailey, the only other girl who signed up, plus Sean and Ben. Like the previous group, they're moving cautiously and sticking close together. This time, instead of making a distraction, I come down behind the trunk of a thicker pine tree they're headed towards. They pass within just a couple feet of it, and I silently dart out to snag their rearmost member, who ends up being Hailey, while she's got her flashlight pointed the other way. Do I enjoy making her scream more than the two guys?

Maybe, but I'm not about to admit it. When I go back out, the first group I find again is Mark, AJ, and Zach. They're moving even more slowly and cautiously now, practically back-to-back. I watch them for a couple of minutes, but can't find a clear opening. On the other hand, their lack of speed means they're not gonna be collecting many glowsticks. I leave them be for now, and go in search of the other groups.

Cassie's group seems to have gone for the opposite strategy: They've split up, abandoning any attempt at caution in favor of speed. The first I find is Ben, who already has four glowsticks in hand and is hurrying towards a fifth when I yank him into the air from behind. I immediately head back in that direction, since they've made themselves into easy targets. A brief glimpse of light draws me down, and I frown slightly when I can't find it again.

Searching for a couple of minutes, I eventually find Sean huddled against the trunk of a tree with his flashlight off and his glowsticks hidden under his jacket, practically hyperventilating. A slightly better strategy than I thought: They've figured out I have to fly back to the fire every time I catch someone, giving them a window to move freely. Unfortunately for him, he turned his light off a moment too late. Once I've deposited him with the others, I go back to search for Cassie, but don't find her.

Knowing how fast I can fly, she probably has a better idea of when she needs to turn her light off to avoid being spotted. After a couple of minutes, I go look for another group instead. The first group has moved fairly close by, still trying to strike a balance between caution and speed. I get Watson by shaking a tree as a distraction again, then come right back.

Kurt and Tre are now back to back, swinging their flashlights everywhere, but they don't have enough people for complete coverage anymore; I'm pretty sure I can get both at once. I drop down behind a tree to the side, then dart out when they're both turned away- A flashlight turns on from behind a tree on their other side, around ten feet away, catching me barely a foot from the pair. They scream anyway, jumping backwards away from me.

"Hah! Yes!" cheers Cassie, fully stepping out into the open.

"Knew that would work!" I carefully avoid rolling my eyes, instead clapping slowly a few times.

"Well done. I suggest you make the most of the time you've won for yourself."

"She means you too, dumbasses!" says Cassie, grinning.

"Come on, don't just stand there, gotta get as many glowsticks as we can before she comes back for revenge!" They jerk into motion, following Cassie away. I summon my cellphone to check how long I need to wait, then fly back up above the trees. Just because I can't tag them doesn't mean I can't keep tabs on them. They successfully grab a few more glowsticks and turn their flashlights off with a minute or two to spare, just to be safe.

Unfortunately, since I'm following them, I still have a general idea of where they are, and I see a whole lot better in the dark than they do. From the cover of the canopy, I spot each of them with their backs against a tree trunk, arranged in a triangle about twenty feet apart with clear lines of sight to each other. It's pretty obvious they're hoping they'll be able to catch me with a similar trick as before.

Instead, I just float down directly behind the trunk Cassie's sitting against, reaching around to grab her shoulder and yanking her into the air too quickly for the other two to react. She still shrieks in surprise, but doesn't spend the whole flight screaming.

"Awww. Come on, you couldn't have just let me win?" she whines.

"Please, you knew I was gonna get you back for that."

"Yeah, but I still got you first!"

"Yeah, sure, whatever." Then I drop her with the others and head back out. Kurt and Tre lose their heads pretty much completely without Cassie in charge, and I grab both of them easily. The four remaining players have managed to join up, giving them the confidence to move a little more quickly. It takes me a few minutes to find an opening, but they do eventually spread a little too far apart, letting me come down in the middle of them while they're all facing outwards.

This time, I manage to grab both Mark and AJ at once. I grab Zach on the next trip, but Sean takes me almost ten minutes to track down. I eventually find him creeping from tree to tree in the dark, and when I grab him, he jumps so high that I'm not sure he even needs my help to fly back to the fire. At least he's met with a round of cheers for surviving the longest.

"Alright, can we go home now that you've finished scaring the shit out of us?" asks Hailey. There's some slightly nervous laughter.

"You can, once you've told me what you've learned," I answer. There's silence for a few seconds. Eventually, Tre clears his throat.

"Uh, the only time we got you was when Cassie surprised you by keeping her light off."

"A good lesson," I say, nodding.

"Misleading your opponent about your strength is always valuable. Anyone else?"

"... If we'd been more careful from the start, maybe we could've survived to the end even if we didn't get as many glowsticks," suggests Zach.

"Maybe," I allow.

"But the three of you were being quite careful already, and it still wasn't enough."

"What should we have done different, then?" asks Watson.

"Or were we just supposed to lose from the start?"

"No. There was a way you could've won." I wait for a few seconds, but beyond some muttering, no one seems to have any ideas.

"Sarge?" I ask eventually.

"No one told you you had to stay out for the full hour," he says.

"Learn to recognize when you're in over your head, cut your losses, and get the hell out."

"Correct," I say, then wait a couple of seconds for the grumbling to die down.

"There are times when your best isn't going to be good enough. I expect all of you to keep yourselves alive, not to fight to the last. Sometimes risks need to be taken, but never blindly. Use your judgement, and never lose sight of how much is at stake."

"Tomorrow, your training will be finished," I continue.

"Once it is, I'll be putting you in the places Surf 'n Turf is mostly likely to attack us, because you're now the best equipped to handle it. I don't expect them to come for us guns blazing to start with, so avoid escalating things if you can. But that's a lower priority than demonstrating that we won't allow ourselves to be intimidated, and that we have no intention of giving in without a fight. And that's a lower priority than protecting yourselves and the other members of the Sun Eaters.

If you're ever too badly outnumbered, or if you find yourself facing Barracuda or Obsidian themselves, your only objective will be to get as many Sun Eaters out safely as you can. Is that understood?" There's a chorus of agreement.

"Good. You've all done extremely well, and I hope you'll continue to impress me." To mark the end of their training, there's a little party at the community center the next night. I don't show up until later, when all that's left is empty pizza boxes and beer cans. I doubt anyone wants any kind of big ceremony, but I still hand over everyone's promised pay individually, one by one. Everyone's in a good mood, cheering and laughing, joking about what they're gonna spend it on.

I hope they're all alive to get their second paycheck next month.