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I had a silent argument with myself. Showing myself was a risk that normally, I wouldn’t be dumb enough to take. But these people might know something that could help me. Now, they owed me a favour.

And it wasn’t like I had a lot of other options. Desperate times call for desperate fucking measures.

“I’m a quick shot,” I called back, slowly moving to step out of my hiding spot. “Raise your gun at me and you’ll be dead before you hit the ground.”

Her expression tightened slightly, but then her grip on her gun loosened.

“Understood,” she replied.

I relaxed a little, but kept my rifle at the ready as I stepped into the clearing. The woman’s expression changed to surprise, and for the first time, I noticed that she wore a black band on her upper arm with a white rose painted on it.

“You’re a Wastelander?” she said, her eyebrows raised.

“That a problem?” I asked, still feeling a tad prickly.

Her eyes flashed with amusement. “No. It’s just that I don’t get why a Wastelander would bother helping us. I assumed you must be one of ours, or a Delta soldier sympathetic to our cause.”

I shrugged. “Let’s just say I don’t like Delta soldiers much.”

She looked me up and down—at my weapons, my clothes, my pack. “You don’t look like a man who’s desperate for resources.”

I’m desperate, all right, I thought irritably. Or else I wouldn’t be talking to you.

“Most of the Wastelanders who risk coming so close to the compound are,” she said matter-of-factly. “Desperate, that is. They know it’s dangerous, but they need help so bad that they’re willing to try.”

I didn’t want to tell her she’d hit the nail on the head, just not in the way she meant. A brief, awkward silence followed.

“I’m Ayanna Taylor,” she finally said, taking a cautious step toward me. “I’m the leader of the White Rose Militia. And we sure could use a crack shot like you.”

This is such a bad idea.

That was all I could think as I trailed behind the militia group, following them to their camp, which Ayanna claimed wasn’t far. We were going deeper into the forest, farther away from the Delta, which probably didn’t mean anything good. But Ayanna had information, and after two weeks of banging my head against the wall, I couldn’t resist a real, honest-to-God lead.

“What exactly is the White Rose Militia?” I asked.

I’d slung my rifle onto my back again, but my hand hovered over my holstered pistol. I was an absolute lunatic to trust these guys. I could already hear the thorough new-asshole-tearing I’d get from Kimmy later.

“We formed after the revolt inside the Delta,” Ayanna replied, almost casually, like of course I knew there’d been a revolt. Which I didn’t. “We used to be part of the Delta military—most of us, anyway. Some are civilian recruits. When the Sire came and took over from our Mayor a couple months ago, we revolted and demanded regime change.”

I frowned. “The Sire?”

Ayanna sighed. “There’s a lot you need to learn, Wastelander.”

Awesome, thanks for reminding me how clueless I am.

“Why did you revolt?”

She shrugged. “It’d been a long time coming. There’d already been a revolt a few years back, but it was put down violently by the military. Many of us hated participating in that—firing on our own citizens, our neighbours. So, when the Sire came and started executing dissidents, we split off from the military and formed a resistance force. Now, we run operations aimed at toppling the regime.”

I dodged a branch that almost hit me in the eye. “And how’s it going?”

Ayanna laughed, but it was edged with bitterness and fatigue.

“We’ve barricaded ourselves in the warehouse district,” she said. “We execute controlled bombings and sabotage whatever we can, but we haven’t gained much new ground. I’ll be honest: if we weren’t a little desperate, I wouldn’t be talking to you right now.”

You and me both, lady.

“The explosions I saw yesterday—that was you, then?”