> You’re right. This could be a big one. Which of our active cases would we drop for it, though? I hate dropping cases…

>

> – Radio transmission from Voices for Non-Citizens

Ten minutes.

We used about three to refresh everyone on the plans we’d hashed out before we began our assault, with minor adaptations due to our missing team members.

Another one to reassure everyone that Malia and her family were fine, they’d just bailed.

Six minutes to do nothing but fend off a stream of negligible assaults from the treezilla’s minions and try to suppress our anger and fear.

“She’s a teenager. Marci is seven! And at least two of you have kids around that same age. How could Malia’s father be so selfish?!”

“I’d really like to know,” I said. “But I’m trying not to focus on it. Let’s get through the next half-hour and then ask our questions.”

“Hmf!” Marci’s mom swung a metal baseball bat like a golf club, sending one of the six-footed weasels flying. It bent around one of the spars making up the walls with an audible crack.

Meghan, I’m reaching out to the commanders. Floor 4 had a natural treewalker spawn while they were waiting. They took it down.

“Are we going early?”

No. We don’t know enough, so the risk is too high. Ground Floor isn’t completely in position yet. If the treewalkers don’t spawn on the floor they’re summoned from, starting early might mean the people that are in position get cut to shreds. The Shard of Strength will last another six minutes. They’ll hold it as long as they can. It’ll put a little pressure on us to finish off the ones we summon quickly, but…

“But it’s an extra shard.”

Yes. I’ll make an Announcement after it’s used, so hold off on yours until then.

“Right, right. Thanks for the information.”

I looked around to see Floor 2’s team staring at me anxiously. I tried to smile. “Okay. Bad news is that we’re on a clock now. Good news is, we’ll have an extra Shard to hit this thing with. One of the other floors had a treewalker spawn naturally and they took it down and got its Shard.”

“If we’re on a timer, shouldn’t we start now?”

I shook my head. “No. We need to wait to let others get ready. Remember, we don’t know for sure that the ones we summon will spawn on our floor.”

“Won’t be long!” One of Gavin’s escorts held up a watch. He, and the other escorts, were standing in a tight ring around the kids, while parents and family members were making a looser ring. The attack teams were spread around the room. “It’s almost time. Remember, when you hear the colonel finish counting down, what do you do?”

“Repeat after you!” the kids chorused dutifully.

“That’s right! Then what?”

The kids’ response was more ragged this time.

“Stay put!”

“Use far away magic!”

“Ranged attacks!”

“Do healing!”

“Those are all good answers,” the soldier said. “You’re all really brave! If you get scared and need to close your eyes, it’s okay. We’ll protect you. Don’t get scared if someone picks you up to carry you!”

I shook my head at Gavin and Micah from behind the man’s shoulder. I appreciated the military escorts, and didn’t think the man’s advice was bad, per se. It would be easier to protect a child huddling in terror than one running away in fear, after all. But I trusted my boys more than anyone else here, with the possible exception of Priya and George. Micah and Gavin were strong, brave, and experienced. I wanted them focused on their own survival, not putting their lives in less capable hands.

Micah nodded at me and Gavin gave me a thumbs-up.

Floor 2’s force was large enough that I would have liked to fight the treewalkers one at a time, focusing our fire to take each down safely and efficiently.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t confident that all the kids would be brave enough to use their Intensifiers after they saw what it meant.

Getting a calm group of kids to chant some words an adult told them to say? Easy.

Getting a terrified child to calm down and say anything you wanted them to, let alone the very words that had led to their fear in the first place? Potentially impossible, at least in the narrow time window we had.

Once the first treewalker went down, we had seven minutes to use the first Shard of Strength to injure its parent. After that, we wanted to use the rest as quickly as possible, not letting the treezilla regenerate or regain any strength.

I’d decided we’d use our Intensifiers in two waves: the kids first, then the four adults second when we got most of those killed. The adults with Intensifiers - me, Marci’s mom, Priya, and George - would go in a second wave when I made an Announcement, or when only one treezilla was left alive on our floor. I’d thought about having the adults go one at a time, but I’d been in several battles in the past few weeks against the Dragons, against Titans, and inside Challenges. All of them had been very different, but the one thing they’d all had in common was chaos and confusion. I might dream about real-life battles being as controlled and planned as videogame boss fights, but those were just that: dreams.

In real life, clear was better. Redundancy was better. Simple was better.

Simple plans might survive.

Hopefully, we’d brought enough people to kill all the treewalkers we’d spawn, and we’d have enough shards to kill the treezilla. If not, I’d have to lead the majority of my group back to the fire station while a few people stayed behind to fight, hoping they could get treewalkers to appear more quickly than the treezilla healed.

They’d get reinforcements eventually, if they lived long enough. The transports that had dropped us off had returned to Huntsville so they could pick up a second wave of troops, but making the round-trip would take them hours. It would be a gruesome battle of attrition, if it came to that.

I prayed it wouldn’t. I didn’t want to lead my boys back through the hellscape outside, and I didn’t want to leave our escorts behind to die.

Then an Announcement made everyone stiffen.

Everyone is in position. Stay away from the walls! Activate intensifiers on my count! Ten… Nine… Eight… Seven… Six… Five… Four… Three… Two… One! Go!

The escort raised his voice. “Repeat after me, kids. ‘This is too easy!’”

Five voices chorused after him in unison. “This is too easy!”

Micah remained silent as they spoke. Had fear gotten the better of my oldest? I took a deep breath, but before I started speaking, Micah had scrunched his eyes shut tight and started shouting. “You’re a cheater, tree! I should be able to burn you up, but since you’re cheating, just send out your strongest monsters and I’ll turn them into ASHES!”

In spite of his fierce proclamation, I saw his nervousness. His eyes opened uncertainly and he lifted his bracelet, making sure it had dimmed.

It had. On the central column, five large sacs were about to burst and one - Micah’s - had just started to swell.

I drew a handgun from the holster at my hip and used Basic Hologram to highlight one sac with a circle of inward-pointing arrows. The first five sacs burst simultaneously and I fired, activating Assisted Strike to compensate for my awkward left-handed grip.

Three dozen other guns fired at the same time, along with a hail of supernatural attacks. Not everyone was a crack shot, but more than half of the people hit the target I’d indicated, a rapid thud-thud-thud of attacks that chewed their way through its trunk. The kill wasn’t instantaneous, but our combined assault held the monster in place, jerking and twitching through hit after hit until the monster itself dissipated, dropping a familiar amber teardrop on the ground.

I snatched it with Telekinesis, dragging it back toward me. We should still have a few minutes before Floor 4 used their first Shard, and we wanted to hit the tree as hard as we could in as tight a window as we could. I didn’t want some well-meaning soul from my floor to trigger our assault early.

Soldiers from our attack groups had intercepted the four remaining treewalkers, distracting them from charging toward our vulnerable group of children. In spite of our overwhelming numbers, it was a risky job, and I saw one of them take a blow to the side of the head that sent her flying into the wall. Before anyone else could react, Gavin darted out through a gap in our escorts’ legs and stretched out his tail to brush it against the prone soldier before turning and scampering back into the middle of the group, giving me a guilty look.

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I glared at him, but not a true Mom Stare, more of an “I’m watching you, buster!” His tail’s reach meant that he’d reached the injured soldier seconds before anyone else could, and he’d stayed out of reach of the treewalkers and returned to the safety of the group. If he felt the need to do that again, I would trust him. Depending on how injured the soldier had been, those seconds might have been the difference between “healable” and “not.”

Gavin’s quick action had clearly been enough, this time. The soldier’s helmet - not military gear like her fatigues, just a motorcycle helmet - had been broken, but she was clearly fine despite her blood-streaked hair, rolling to her feet and heading back into the fray.

I flashed another arrow over the monster farthest to the right, trying to coordinate our assault. Micah’s belated treewalker hatched as well, but as it dropped toward the floor a bright-white bar of focused heat sprung into being beneath it and chewed deeply into its bark. I could see Micah swaying and blinking, clearly exhausted from the effort, but he’d gotten good at knowing his own limits. He remained awake. Remained standing. The treewalker was still standing as well, but flames licked the edges of the deep gouge and smoke billowed from its interior. It shouldn’t take much more to take it down.

Great work, boys.

I couldn’t help but wish I could have more of an impact myself. The holograms directing our fire were helpful, but the handgun I held - and was now fumbling to reload - was my best source of damage. My Telekinetic objects were too weak to block treewalker strikes, so using them to attack was a dicey proposition. If I brought a blade in and a treewalker struck it away with enough speed, I couldn’t halt it instantly. Anyone in the path of the blade before I regained control…

No.

I was confident Paralyze would have been excellent, but, like Micah, I knew my limits; I was closer to them than I’d like. The treewalkers were large and strong. I was certain I could halt one strike, but I wasn’t certain I’d be awake afterward.

I was in command. Even though one of the soldiers had been assigned as my second-in-command, passing out could cause confusion and uncertainty. Even if that person was perfectly competent - which Colonel Zwerinski had cast doubt on - that confusion could easily lead to needless deaths.

If I had to exhaust myself to save my own life or that of a child, I would.

Everyone else was on their own.

It was a cold judgment. Maybe a cruel one? But logical.

I split my focus in a way I never could have before this started, re-loading my gun with the assistance of my Telekinetic abilities and steadily firing off each bullet with an Assisted Strike, marking targets for the group, and directing my other Telekinetic objects toward slowing and taking down the constant influx of six-legged weasels and flesh-colored-flyers.

One treewalker left, I realized.

Adults with Intensifiers! Go!

I took a deep breath, obeying my own order and screaming out my taunt: “We’re doing well! This is too easy to threaten us!”

I heard Priya and George make similar pronouncements. Marci’s mother was hunched, holding her daughter, but since four more oversized sacs had begun growing on the heartvein, I presumed she’d done her job.

Intensifier used, Priya dashed forward to join the frontline, using her sword to cut off the tip of a root that was snaking around to yank a soldier off his feet.

I didn’t like seeing her rush into danger, but she’d probably been feeling even more useless than I as she waited on the backlines. It had been important to make sure she was healthy and ready to use her Intensifier, but now she could take higher risks.

We’re doing well, I realized. Several injuries, including three from stray bullets, but no one’s died since we entered the chamber. No kids have been hurt, except that one slash a bird made to Gavin's tail the last time he rushed out of the group, and he healed that right away.

The last treewalker faded just as four more burst out from their sacs. I chose one for the group to focus.

Despite insisting that the battle wasn’t like a videogame, I couldn’t deny that it felt familiar - all the ranged clumped up far away with the healers and a limited number of defenders tasked to pick up adds. Tanks and off-tanks holding the monsters a safe distance away as I called out targets for focus fire.

As pleased as I was with how controlled our battle was, I couldn’t forget that the other floors were fighting almost as many treewalkers with far less numerous forces.

I sheathed my gun and reached into the left pocket of my puffer vest, snapping one of the Signal sticks I’d made sure to keep handy.

There was a second’s wait, and then the Colonel was in my mind.

Problem? Your floor seems controlled.

“It is,” I said. “I think we’ll have ours down soon and be able to send forces elsewhere. Where are they needed? Ground floor?”

Third. The answer came instantly. They’ve had two extra treewalkers appear during their fight and… Oh, hell.

His voice faded from my mind for the merest second before blasting in again with a stentorian roar.

Hurry! First shard has been used. Take down your foes as quickly as possible, then move to help other chambers if you can. Give it everything you’ve got! If we can take down the heartvein, the minions will die with it.

I gathered up the Shards of Strength I’d been collecting and dealt them out to Gavin and Micah’s escorts.

If I gave you a shard, you’re on delivery duty! Slam it into the heartvein, then CLIMB. Third Floor team needs help. Fast!

I saw the other parents give me concerned looks, but I technically hadn’t sent their children’s escorts away.

“If the third floor fails, we all fail,” I snapped. “We can’t let that happen. Either we take this thing out in the next few minutes, or we have to take our kids back through that nightmare outside.”

Marci’s mom stared at me for a second, then seemed to steel herself. She nodded to her daughter’s escorts. “Go help. Marci and I have been through worse.

George hesitated, casting a glance toward the melee, where Priya had just taken a treewalker branch to the side. Then he followed suit, dismissing all of Samar’s guardians.

The other parents each sent only one of their kids’ escorts away, clearly struggling to balance multiple kinds of fear.

With over twenty people gone, the battle on our floor changed. More of the ranged group was focused on dealing with our own attackers, and we were providing less assistance to the melee team.

Before, we’d been taking out the vast majority of the weasels and flyers before they came within ten feet of us. Now, that ratio had reversed, with most of our attackers going down to swords or hammers.

This must be what it’s been like for the other floors all along, I realized as I raised my shield to block a flyer.

Even the ranged group started to take injuries.

Not severe ones. Nothing Gavin and the other healers in our group couldn’t deal with. For now.

Several times, weasels dashed through the legs of distracted defenders, and I started using Draw Attention and Paralyze to keep the kids safe.

The kids may not have needed my protection. Micah was exhausted, but Gavin was still alert, whipping his tail toward each monster that drew near. Almost every time, however, he was beaten to the punch by Marci. The blonde-haired little girl popped out retractable claws and dove onto each little monster with a growl, sinking her fingers into their sides and throats. Alien blood would paint her hands and face for a brief moment before vanishing.

Agonizingly slowly, we chipped away at the last three treewalkers. I had a few more pouches of gunpowder in my backpack, but I hesitated: setting off an explosion in the center of one of the monsters could easily send shards of wood everywhere at bulletlike speeds before the monsters dissipated.

Finally, we took the last one down, the last Shard slamming into the heartvein.

“It’s still alive!” called one of the soldiers, his voice alarmed.

“They’re still fighting on other floors! Go help!” I shouted.

I had no idea if I was telling the truth, but I prayed I was.

Then, suddenly, with no warning, all the small monsters vanished.

The soldiers jogging toward the heartvein stopped. “Did we… win?”

I had no such doubts. The constant ominous presence of the treezilla and its children had suddenly vanished. To my eyes, nothing had altered, but to Life Sense, it was like the sun had come out. “Yes!” I shouted in relief. “We won! We won!”

Gavin was on me in an instant. “Don’t cry, Mommy!”

I hugged him, sniffing. “Sorry, buddy… I guess I was pretty scared.”

He eyed me suspiciously. “Well, you seemed really brave.”

I patted his back. “Go check the rest of the people on our floor. Some of them need healing.”

“Oh! Right!”

My little monkey scampered off, dashing and leaping across the room, wounds vanishing in his wake as his tail flickered back and forth.

I wasn’t worried for him. My Life Sense range was huge now, and for the first time since I’d received my Specialty, I couldn’t feel monsters anywhere.

Micah leaned on me. “Is it really dead, Mom? It’s not faking?”

“It’s not faking. I-”

Treezilla down! Too tired for a big Announcement. Meghan, can you send your healers downward? Ground Floor has several individuals in critical condition.

“Ohhh, shoot.”

“It is faking?!”

I shook my head, trying to calm him as I raised my voice. “Healers! Down to the ground floor! They handled their treewalkers, but they’ve got a lot of severely injured people.”

Micah frowned at me. “Why didn’t he say that?”

“He’s too tired for another big Announcement. We’re pretty far from him, you know. That’s why I didn't use my Announcement either.”

“Oh, okay.”

My oldest and I leaned on each other as we made our way to the central column. I let the healers go first, and, on autopilot, started to follow. The moment I tried to lift my hands away from the flat surface of the floor to grab the tiny grips on the heartvein, I realized my mistake. The tiny ridges on the column hadn’t gotten any easier to grab after the treezilla’s death, and my younger son hadn’t seemed to notice my earlier shout.

Gavin was rocketing around the room, flipping across the ceiling like a circus acrobat, repeating “We won! We won!” in a singsong celebration.

“Gavin!”

“He’s not paying attention, Mom,” Micah said. He took a few steps away from me and shouted at his brother. “Gavin, you need to heal people! And you need to help Mom climb down. Her hand is hurt.”

Gavin started making his way over, but too slowly for my taste. Plus, I wasn’t going to let Micah get away with his jab, true though it may have been.

“Gavin! Get over here! I want you to help Micah climb down.”

Micah scoffed. He opened his mouth for a rebuttal, but was interrupted by a shout from below.

“MEGHAN!?”

I jumped. That sounded like… it can’t be…

A glimpse at Micah’s face shattered my denial. An echo of my own hope, fragile and terrified, was writ large across his features.

Suddenly I was falling. I hadn’t even noticed losing my grip, but as I dropped below the floor level, the lower chamber came into view, a figure rocketing across it almost too fast to see. But that voice… the flash of black hair… It wasn’t possible, but…

He caught me.

My husband.