Tasìa wiped away the sweat from her palms. Her palms never sweated.

She sneered in knee-jerk self-disdain.

What a fine fucking moment we've picked to become a normal, scared shitless human being, she thought.

Then, with a tad more self-reflection, Tasìa eased up on her negative assessment:

But of course, we're scared. It's the first time we have had anything to lose beyond our bullshit self-owning drama.

Tasìa turned back towards Demona. Before she spoke, she flipped the PA to both laryngophone and flex modes and placed it against her throat.

It wrapped around the front of her neck gently with no more discomfort than if a scarf was placed there.

"What's going on," Tasìa asked in an inaudible whisper. "The intent of the party outside is lethal; the ones inside are jovial. Are you certain they are together?"

Demona frowned as she shook her head. She had even more bad news to impart.

"Yes, I'm certain. Sit on the bed and don't face the window. He sees you the same way you see him through his own IR goggles."

When Tasìa complied, Demona continued.

"I just reviewed the most recent street-level video footage. The three met at the Spook Town garage, changed the codes, and split up before they arrived separately here.

"The sniper over there is carrying a long, skinny rifle. This one, in fact. Recognize it?"

A hologram spun in front of Demona.

"Sure. It's a Stealth 338 LAP. Chambers for a high caliber Lapua round." Tasìa shook her head, and glanced to the wall on the backyard side before she continued. "Why doesn't he just shoot me through the wall if he has me IR-sighted?"

Demona flipped to another hologram that showed the sniper standing beside the SUV parked on the street beside the garage. He retrieves a box of rounds from the back of the vehicle, and he feeds them into his rifle.

Tasìa recognized the sniper. It was the Silver Fox from the billets room confrontation who went by the name Rubin.

The feed pauses and focuses on the round in Rubin's hands. The bullet that protrudes from the round is a semi-transparent green gelpack inside a latticed swirl of material that extends deep into the jacket.

A gyrette. A modernized update on the rocket-propulsed gyrojet round. When the explosive materials inside the jacket combusted, the pressure given off syphoned into the latticed swirl of tubes, that once parted from their jacket insets, behaved like rocket thrusters.

The distance, accuracy, and eventual velocity that resulted more than doubled the same capabilities found in more conventional rounds.

Demona shook her head.

"Their intentions aren't lethal. It's a paralytic round. Whatever they have planned, they want you alive."

Tasìa shook her head. Rubin. Now, she understood why he didn't station himself at a distance more befitting to the sniper's art.

A gyrette started out at a subsonic speed. If he had stood at a more typical fifteen-hundred-foot sniping distance, the American spooks understood her fighting capabilities well enough to know she would have plenty of time to react if she heard it coming.

That spoke well of their fear of her.

Demona clapped her hands to snap Tasìa back to attention. Moments like this one where Tasìa's tactical mindset became engaged, tended to leave the impression that she was fading out into daydream.

It was hardly ever the case, however. She didn't lack for situational awareness.

"Tasìa, if you would. Face the door and pretend you are listening-in on the conversation. We don't want to give the sniper the idea we are stalling for time while we figure out how to deal with him."

Tasìa faced the door and crouched forward. She could hear the on-going conversation in the living room, but at the moment, given her current predicament, she couldn't muster up the effort to give a shit for what was being said.

"Yeah," Tasìa began, "I have an idea how to deal with him, but I need to know if you believe we have a minute to spare -," Demona nodded for Tasìa to continue, "- do you think I am being hunted for what I know about the Amongst Us?

"How can it be that I can see them and others can't? Even more strangely, they were blind to it in perceiving one another's true identity until I was present in their company."

Demona walked over to her and sat down beside her. She nodded as she spoke.

"Forgive my earlier display of disbelief and cognitive dissonance when you told me about the Amongst Us. I was shocked because it explained almost too neatly a gap in my understanding of your role as the Sigrid Rosa. Not believing that Amongst Us existed, you blindsided me.

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

"Mind you, though the Cull Spore Invasion occurred over the span of a single evening, in one form or another, it has been in the works since the 1960s, when money was poured in research to weaponize mind-altering fungi by clandestine operations the world over.

"So, though you were born before the Invasion, you are not really pre-Invasion in how you have been wired for it.

"Take that into consideration when I tell you that I believe your neural system is designed specifically to counter the Amongst Us, and to spot them when they are in a state of anxiety. Cameras and other eyeballs don't do that. I'm certain of that. I had already studied tens of thousands of hours of Spooktowner footage and even sensorium recordings of local events before you arrived.

"I found not even a hint of non-human activity amongst any of them. I believe you are part of a backup plan if things go horribly wrong."

Tasìa didn't respond. She was lost in thought, wondering, do the nanospore entities know that about me?

Demona paused and looked down for a moment before she continued.

"I hesitate to bring this up given I have seen your Beauregard in a state of anxiety in your presence. Do you think we can eliminate him as a suspect?"

Tasìa's heart sank as she gave this possibility consideration. No, it couldn't be that he was one of them.

Still, she had reason to doubt his motivations.

Even though she recalled that he once claimed he loathed spooks as a class, he was in fact close to the individuals he chatted up in the living room.

Another doubt came to mind.

They somehow knew of her presence in his home well enough to setup an ambush against her.

She unintentionally clawed at the sheets she sat on.

No. It wasn't possible. No matter where these facts lead, on an emotional, gut level, they make little sense.

"Tasìa?"

"No. It's not possible. I've pissed the frothy, misty brew in front of him twice now. You were in the shower with us the last time I did it. You saw his scared shitless reaction. You even laughed about it. Plus, our fucking got pretty intense, right? Either instance would have triggered an Amongst Us event if he were one, right?"

Demona nodded, but at the same time, she frowned.

"Most likely, almost certainly, either activity would suffice. After all, my own brain wave functioning scanned off the charts for anxiety-related oscillations during both incidences."

Tasìa suppressed a chuckle.

"Glad I could help." Then a notion crossed her mind. "Hey. Alisha spent a lot of time here last summer. Certainly, they had opportunities to plant listening devices to monitor her activities if they were suspicious of her."

Demona bent her head to the side with her hand up next to her ear.

"I'll check."

After several seconds, Demona nodded affirmatively.

"Yes. I could kick myself for my lack of precaution before I made this current arrangement. I've found several such devices, and they have been recently reactivated."

So, that's how they knew that I was here. Tasìa was relieved.

The laser raybeam shifted downward with a jolt, and then it slowly corrected itself. Tasìa forced herself not to react to its movement. It would have been a dead giveaway that she could see it.

"Demona?"

"Yes. Duly noted. I have him on my drone feed. He is shifting from one foot to the other."

"An antsy sniper is never a good thing," Tasìa commented.

Demona chortled with her hands extended out.

"There is no better time than the present to divulge your plan. Afterall, its your cute tush on the line not mine."

Tasìa raised her head in the slightest of nods. She glanced over at the window to make sure it was unlocked.

"Flip Mel's sensorium up on the hologram readout. Show me his vitals."

Her plan would not work out as thoroughly as she intended if one key factor was out of line. Tasìa smiled as she got confirmation.

"Okay," she began. "Here is what I want you to do ..."

Tasìa leaned forward and watched the door. She could hear the guests and Beauregard tell the two ladies in the room about an incident that occurred on a hunting trip. Everyone laughed as the story unfolded.

Tasìa reacted as if she were a party to the festivities. She wiggled and laughed uproariously as she stood up, and moved slowly to a stand-up drawer.

Her head, she still held steady as she watched the door while she opened the drawer. As she assumed, it was the sock drawer.

From behind her, Mel screeched, loudly.

It was her signal.

Tasìa grabbed a thick pair of socks, and rushed over to the window. In a kinetic blur, she crouched down, and opened the window.

She raised the nearly silent Magellani .22 revolver to a leveled position. Her target's head leaned straight up with his mouth agape.

Birdshit fell in it.

Tasìa took aim, pulled the trigger, and severed off his index finger.

His rifle dropped as she holstered the Magellani while in mid-tumble out of the window.

Tasìa acquired the Stealth 338 LAP rifle in her left hand just as she rose up and stuffed Rubin's mouth with the sock before he could scream.

The confusion that set in his eyes became an instant priceless memory for her as she suppressed the urge to giggle.

In a literal instant, his status in the scheme of things turned upside down.

Tasìa shook a finger in his face.

"I told you before in the bar, you fuck with me, you lose limbs, didn't I? Well, didn't I?"

Though he attempted to cough out the birdshit through the stuffed socks, he still nodded vigorously with his hands in the air.

She glanced back at the house. No one seemed to be reacting to Mel's shriek. It was just a typical crow sound, after all.

Tasìa turned back to Rubin. Her eyes projected a menacing bluff.

"I have the sodium thiopental back where I'm going to take you, so it's in your best interest if you want to remain among the living to tell me the truth the first time before I stab you in the ass with a horse needle.

"Is Beauregard working with you against me? Shake for no, nod for yes."

He shook his head. The skin on his neck was alive with the crawl of serpents beneath.

"Okay. That is all that I need to know."

Tasìa raised the rifle, and holding it with just one hand, she shot him in the right shoulder.

With a spasmodic jerk, Rubin collapsed.

A light began to grow from behind her. Someone was opening the door to the guest's bedroom.

Tasìa knelt down low as she dragged Rubin over to nearby bushes.

Mel swooped onto the window ledge and shrieked out a 'cah' at the unwanted visitor who in turn did not immediately answer his challenge.

As Tasìa hid in the bushes, she listened for that response in wonder at who would be giving it.