They were all to blame for not seeing the threat in their camp.
Reliving the memory of her brother’s crumpled body threatened Anya’s resolve. It reminded her who deserved the real blame.
June fired the first shot. Anya wondered if her target had a face. Her memories of Arcis had yet to be returned—Jacob’s memory machine had not worked on her and Junior—but it seemed at times like June was remembering on her own.
The boy soldier checked the target when June nodded at him.
‘It hit the second last ring,’ he said breathlessly.
June lowered her gun and looked at Anya. ‘Your turn.’
Anya took aim at her own target, picturing the female from Arcis again. She’d been cold towards her group. Unfeeling. She fired her first bullet in this round.
The soldier marked the hole with an X. ‘Anya won that round.’
Winning usually fuelled her, but today she couldn’t muster up a smile.
‘Two in a row,’ she said to June, already tiring of her activity.
June aimed at her target before the soldier had cleared the area. He scuttled back in fright just as she fired off two shots.
The soldier checked and marked them. Anya followed with two of her own.
‘June was closer,’ he said when he went in to check.
‘It comes down to these last two shots, I suppose,’ said June.
‘Make them count.’
June cocked her gun like a pro. She’d had training. All the rebels had.
She raised her arm, steadied it and fired one, two.
The soldier checked. ‘Bull’s-eye.’
June grinned at Anya. ‘Beat that.’
‘No problem.’
June might have had training, but Anya had perfected her marksmanship with hours of practice. She lifted her gun twice as fast and, without looking, popped off two shots at the target.
A gasp from the crowd sent a thrill down her spine.
‘She didn’t even look,’ said one.
‘I think she hit it,’ said another.
Gone was the timid girl who’d arrived at this camp. In her place stood Anya Macklin, strong, brave and willing to fight for what was right.
Even the women who’d written her off before gushed with praise.
Another young woman stood there, Kaylie, who’d been intimate with Dom once. Anya looked over at her. Kaylie gave her a tight nod.
She looked back at the target. She could see her shot was closer to the centre of the bull’s-eye than June’s, but the soldier checked anyway.
‘Anya won that round.’
Her fingers fumbled in her pocket for more ammo, but she found none. Dom had said not to use too much. She had counted out enough bullets to soften the hurt but not the supply.
The last two days had been a blur. Everything had happened so fast out on the battlefield. Now, a day after losing her brother, she combed through her memory of events, wondering if she could have done anything different. In the end, Warren had saved Jason, but another Copy had shot both of them.
The Copies were all the same. Murdering, lying robots.
Except they weren’t. Carissa and the ex-guardian wolf that Jacob called Rover had helped them. But Carissa was also hearing one of the Collective in her head. Anya worried that Quintus might say something to make the girl loyal to the city once more.
‘You okay?’ asked June, touching her protruding belly.
Thanks to the growth repressors in Carissa’s biogel, the rapid growth of June’s baby had been stemmed, for the moment. It could so easily have been Anya. In Praesidium’s medical facility, she and Alex had been pushed together and expected to breed. Sheer willpower had ended that dalliance.
But June hadn’t been so lucky. She had been used as an incubator, a vessel to grow the foetuses created between human and Breeder.
Bad for June. A success for the Copies.
‘I will be,’ said Anya. ‘You?’
June rubbed her belly. ‘I will be.’
Anya tucked the revolver into her waistband.
Not all the Copies were the same. A medic had helped Alex and Anya to escape. The same medic had prevented Dom from being turned into something that would set a metal detector off at a distance.
‘Eh, do you still need me?’ said the boy soldier.
Anya blinked away her stillness. ‘No. I think we’re done.’
The soldier sighed with relief and scurried off. The others who’d watched their session dispersed, smiling and shaking their heads. Some looked impressed with her skills. Others who had mocked her weaker, amnesiac self just days ago still weren’t sure what to make of her.
The old Anya would have apologised for scaring them. The new Anya didn’t care enough to hold people’s hands. It had been too long since she’d practised. Over three months, probably closer to four. But she hadn’t forgotten the basics.
Set, aim, shoot.
That’s all she needed to do. They would be going back to Praesidium soon and she wanted to be ready. Because the city wouldn’t know what hit them.
Imogen stayed behind. She approached Anya and June, running a hand over her short hair a second time. Her eyes were red and puffy, like she’d been crying.
‘Anya, June?’ she said softly. She didn’t sound like the confident soldier who had commanded many training sessions.
‘Yeah?’
‘I... um... just wanted to apologise for what happened with Julius.’ She blew out a long breath. ‘I had no idea he was under the Collective’s control.’ She looked at them, then away. ‘And now he’s taken Jerome and Alex.’
The reminder made Anya’s chest ache. She glared at Imogen. She had worked closest with Julius. How had she missed
