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Roman led them over the ruins of the Belgrant Gatehouse. Abandoned cars lined the street, doors left ajar. No doubt people had fled after seeing the gatehouse fall and hearing the subsequent explosions. Sirens in the distance warned of an imminent police presence.

Roman shambled toward a tour bus at the tail end of the traffic jam. He was still missing a quarter of his flesh. He no longer wore a cap, and his undershirt was gone, save only his left sleeve.

“Oh, I don’t even have to hotwire it,” said Roman. “Keys are still in the ignition. You drive, sword girl. I’ll tell you where to go.”

Lynnette stared at him, perhaps wondering if he was even human. “Why can’t you drive?” was all she asked.

He waved a hand in front of his face. “I don’t have my glasses. They melted.”

The Queen stirred in Hector’s arms, and he set her down in a chair behind the driver’s seat. She shook her head, blinking a few times.

‘Welcome back,’ said Mehlsanz.

Hector took the seat across from her as the engine started.

“What happened?” the Queen said.

“We survived,” said Roman. “But the enemy will be back. We’re going to my associate’s garage. We’ll be in better fighting shape with his help.”

‘Who are you people?’ said Garovel. ‘Vanguard?’

‘No,’ said Voreese. ‘Are you?’

‘No.’

‘So we’re all independent here.’

‘Seems that way.’

The bus hit a curb, and everyone eyed the driver.

“...I’ve never driven a bus before,” she said over the noise.

“Just turn right when you reach Willard Street.”

Mehlsanz tilted her head. ‘That girl is strangely understanding, considering she can’t see the three of us.’

“She is a good soldier,” said Helen.

‘I’m sure you’ll have fun explaining the situation to her later,’ said Mehlsanz.

“I am still not sure I understand the situation myself.”