THE BED CREAKED.

"Don't," I said. Because I knew Hyo-su. As much as anyone could know a person in five months, and today was one of those days. I could sense her behind me. Angry. A boiling wave about to slosh over the wall.

She didn't.

The girl licked her chapped lips. Without her hood, I could see her face—copper and gold in the lamplight. She had freckles like smattered paint and very very red hair. Unnatural red. So unnatural, it reminded me of a meticulously colored photograph—a damaged one. I bit my bottom lip; part wince and part gratification. Hyo-su had done more than just punch the girl in her square chin. An inky plume discolored her right eye, feathering her apple cheek.

"Stop staring," the girl stepped forward and the gun inched closer to my forehead.

I dropped my eyes, looking for her wound instead—there. In the fleshy part of her right thigh, the leather of her breeches glistened.

Blood.

I pointed with a finger, my hands still raised. "You're bleeding—"

"Shut up"

"I can help."

"The only thing I want from you, is to know what you did with Charlie."

Charlie?

"We don't know anyone named Charlie," Hyo-su said for me.

The girl flexed her fingers on the gun, her gaze shifting between us, uneasy. "Yes, you do."

"No," said Hyo-su.

"He went into the store—"

"There was no one else."

"—to get more bullets. You were there, too. We knew you were. He never came back out."

"It's a big store!"

"No!" the girl's tone bit like a scalpel. She rested most of her weight on her left leg and hopped slightly to keep balance. "You-you killed him."

The absurdity of her statement made me laugh. A coarse, unrefined choke that ended in, "Qué?"

"Neo baboya?" Hyo-su said at the same time, not finding it as funny. She jumped off the bed, her booted feet landed hard.  I put an arm out to stop her, but she shoved passed me—easy as a bull triceratops barricaded by a riding crop—and grabbed for the gray steel muzzle. "Are you stupid? Or are you just pretending?!"

The girl jerked her hand, smashing the butt into the side of Hyo-su's face, sending her clanging into the cage. The raptor hissed, jaws snapping at Hyo-su's elbow as she ricocheted off, palm clapped to her cheek. Stunned.

For a moment, the girl looked surprised, too. Like the last thing in the world she'd expected herself to do was hit someone. Like the reflex wasn't her own. Then her mask hardened again and she shoved the muzzle against my forehead.

I closed my eyes. Every part of the pitted metal kissed a yellow ring into my skin. At least she had the decency to aim well. If she pulled the trigger, I wouldn't come back from the dead.

The air was smoky—flimsy—but enough to catch in my chest. The heat from the blaze next-door melted through the walls, suffocating. I could hear the brax—his roars dampened by the distance and the tremors were less underfoot, but he was still too close. We weren't safe. I was bleeding. So was she.

"Why would you do that?" the girl said, distressed. "Why would you risk your friend?"

She was talking to Hyo-su. And suddenly, I saw him. A sunlit shadow behind my eyelids—The brocade vest and the ill-fitted suit jacket. He wore a bowler soaked in rain and silver cufflinks that winked in the dead light.

We couldn't risk it—

"Charlie's dead. But it wasn't us who killed him." I said, relieved I could put a name to his horrified expression. I opened my eyes again and saw the girl, staring.

Her eyes were gray grist stones. Even her eyelids had freckles.

"Pardon?" she and Hyo-su said together.

"Cads got him outside the store," I said, leaving out the locked door...the begging...

Hyo-su's face told me she remembered the finer points as well as me.

The gun wavered, scrubbing me raw. "How...?"

"He never made it inside. Cadavers—"

"Mealies got him?"

I assumed she meant the undead. "Yes, I'm sorry. We couldn't help him." That last part pinched my heart. I didn't know Charlie; he was one name on a long list of people I'd watched die. I wasn't sorry for him. I was just there when it happened. But I'd seen a lot of things happen, and whether I cried about them or not, the memories liked to poke me every now and again. Reminding me that I was still alive to feel them.

In the corner of my vision, I saw Hyo-su inching her hand down to her boot. Even in the dimness, her intentions were as clear as the healthy red mark on her face.

Her knife.

I remembered the gun nuzzling the small of my back. The girl hadn't checked us for weapons...Why hadn't she checked us for weapons? The presence of my revolver, tucked in my waistband under my shirt, was like a constant itch. Try, Meza. Save yourself. But it barely had a bullet left—

And the noise. The brax was still too close.

"Susie, don't," I said again.

The girl's brow smoothed. For a moment, her lips tightened and her eyes widened—I knew that look. Fear. Quickly, she pointed her gun at Hyo-su. "Drop it."

Hyo-su glared at me. The switch knife thudded on a loose board near her foot, setting the raptor into a tizzy. He gorged on the brass bars, gnashing his teeth; talons scratch, scratch, scratching.

Satisfied, the girl turned back to me and re-aimed the muzzle. "How in the hell do I know you aren't lying?"

I had an answer. It sat on the tip of my tongue like a tangy spice. But Hyo-su moved faster. I got the feeling she was tired of my dos and don'ts just as her foot landed a kick into the girl's wounded leg.

The trigger squeezed.

I dropped down a ahead of the click, palms flat on the floor. On the ground, the world smelled less smoky and more city dirt and dust. Dried feces and raptor piss coated the vellum-thin rug, frayed yarn stiff with stains. The rug was shameful compared to the elegant ones now burning to ash inside Carron's.

There was blood too, on the floorboards, browned and flaky—

But no gunshot.

My ears hummed, elated. No, gunshot.

The girl grunted. Her boots tangled with Hyo-su's and they fell. I shied away to avoid a kick in the face as they rolled on the floor; Hyo-su latched to the girl's back like a crooked tick, smothering her mouth with her good hand, elbow squeezing her neck.

"The gun!"

I scrambled up on my knees and wrenched it from the girl's fingers. She didn't try to hold on. Hyo-su crushed her windpipe, exacerbating her efforts to slip free. Soon her grunts turned to gurgles. Her eyelids fluttered and her heels skidded along the rug, raising folds like hackles. She couldn't pry Hyo-su loose.

The gun was a Colt revolver, like mine but older, and just as light. I cracked the cylinder and nearly tossed it across the room. Six empty holes mocked me. I gave the cylinder a vicious spin.

"It's not even loaded!" This whole time...I sat on my behind and rubbed at my forehead. My shoulders rested against the unyielding brass bed rail.

He went into the store to get more bullets...

My knees weakened.

Hyo-su relaxed her grip. The girl sucked in air with a painful gag, inhaling through white, frothy lips. Spit clung to her cheek. Hyo-su shoved her off and rolled to her feet.

I watched the girl, cautious. "What's your name?"

At first, I thought she would ignore me and keep on hacking until her insides clogged her mouth and tumbled out in oozy ropes on the rug. But eventually she stopped and breathed normal again. She rested on her side; her red hair tangled and hiding her face.

"Lenore," she whispered.

"Lenore," I said, "my name is Carmen and this is Hyo-su. Was Charlie wearing an expensive vest and a bowler?"

She nodded. Her shoulders caved and her cheek nearly touched the floor.

"Lo siento," I murmured, my hands resting useless on my knees. An old part of me thought I should touch her—pat her back against her spongy curls until she ceased crying.

But this me just sat instead, hands resting useless on my knees.

I looked at Hyo-su as she retrieved her knife. She leaned a shin on the lumpy mattress to peek out the window. "The brax has moved on." She let out a low whistle. "The store's burning well."

There went all our food and supplies. "What now?" I asked.

"Stay the night. Every cad in the district will be drawn by that fire." The bed creaked as she stepped off it. The raptor hissed. She tapped her knife blade against a cage bar. "Help me with something?"

I left Lenore to her sobbing, careful to step over her legs.

"What are we going to do about her?" I said to no one in particular.

Hyo-su's face soured. "Bring'er with."

"Why?" the question flew out of my mouth before I realized. Hyo-su ignored it, but the turn of her lips told me she was still thinking of Charlie. Disappointed in me, no doubt. She'd never understand...

You can't save everyone.

"You okay?" Hyo-su asked, examining the raptor and the cage door.

I put a hand to my side. The bleeding had stopped. The bandages held well enough; all I was feeling right now was exhaustion. And not the loss of blood kind, but the I-almost-died-three-times-in-one-night kind. When we got back, I was taking myself off supply runs for the next week.

No, I wouldn't. I couldn't sleep more than an hour an evening, I'd be too bored—or worse. Pi Phi might drag me up and down the hall again, checking if all the handles on the room doors were locked.

"I'm fine," I said.

Hyo-su nodded, "Good, take this."

I looked down as she flipped me the handle of her knife. "What do I do with this?"

"I'm going to open the door and grab that thing. You're going to cut it right in the soft part of the neck. I'd do it myself but..." she lifted her bruised hand.

"What? Why?"

"Dinner."

"Can you do that?!"

She gave me a look like I'd just asked her if the moon was made of cheese.

The Song family imported exotic deinos for the island, shipping Class A's—the smallest deinos—from Europe and Asia, to sell in Manhattan shops. Her brother, Jeon-gun, had told me their story over pickles in the backroom of an alley restaurant. Hyo-su was raised to do this—to put her hands in cages with bony creatures as big as goodly sized bread loaves. And sometimes, those loaves had needle teeth and a bad temper.

Then again, all the deinos had a temper these days.

She flicked the lock on the cage."Ready?"

I nodded.

It went quick. Hyo-su waved her black-and-blue hand outside the bars, distracting the raptor, pushing her other hand inside to snag him by the neck. He tried to twist on the perch, but she held him secure, fingernails digging in under his jaw where his dewlap crinkled. I put my arm in and drew a buttery half-moon through his jugular with a soft swick of the blade.

Warm blood splashed the back of my hand, black and stinking of salt. I wiped my wrist clean on my pants, reminding myself to peel off my half-gloves later. My eyes stung, but it wasn't the dead raptor or fatigue.

Hyo-su dragged the body out by the clawed back feet, letting it drain on the rug, spattering the toe of her boot.

"We can't stay here," I said, "the smoke—it'll get too bad, soon. We won't breathe properly."

"We can cross the hall," Lenore said. Surprised, I turned to see her watching me, sitting upright on the floor, cloak fanned around her like a mermaid's tail. "Take bed linen and stuff it under the door. That should keep us safe."

"Been in a lot of burning buildings?" Hyo-su said. But there wasn't an ounce of curiosity in her voice. It was a flat statement, a hair shy of mocking.

Lenore frowned. "Just one."

She didn't elaborate. But we didn't ask her to, either. "Will you let me see?" I gestured with the knife toward her outstretched leg. "I'm a doctor...more or less."

"You shot me."

"And now she can fix you," Hyo-su grunted, swinging the carcass into the crook of her elbow. She snagged the faded quilt and pulled. It shrugged off the bed in waves; an amalgamation of fabrics and threadbare holes. "Say thank you."

Lenore raised her middle finger.

Hyo-su took a step forward, ready to whack her upside the head with the dead raptor. I took a step too, putting myself between them, holding the lit cane lamp from the bedside table.

"Stop it, both of you. Hyo-su," I gave her back her knife and pointed toward the door, "go and see if the hall is safe. And really check this time."

On my knees, I used the oily light to see and carefully pried apart the torn edges of Lenore's breeches. They were triceratops calfskin, soft and dyed a deep soot.

Underneath, a ruler-straight blister of red blood and sliced meat leered up at me. I felt better knowing I'd only grazed her. Even accidents had serious consequences. I could have hit a bone, discharging the bullet when I fell. You couldn't come back from a shattered femur. Not in this place—this world. Not now.

"Nothing too serious if we can get the bleeding stopped," I said, preparing to widen the torn leather.

Lenore's hand caught mine, shoving it aside. "Tie it up, that's all."

I had to check the whole area. To be certain there was nothing else to worry on—no other injuries or burns. But I bit back an abbreviated lecture on bullet wound procedures and yanked a pillowcase free. "I'm sorry about your friend." I used my teeth to tear the seam.

Lenore looked passed me, gray eyes tinged red, tears drying where she'd left them. "He wasn't my friend."

"Oh." The way I said it must have pinched her nerves.

Her gaze riveted me, "He wasn't a friend, my family, or a lover."

"Then why—?"

"All clear in the hall. I promise." Hyo-su said, interrupting my next question. It was for the best. Asking someone why they were crying over a person who didn't fit in the big three categories was probably, as Abuela put it, "Crass, Carmen. Es muy común." But I was common. I grew up under the "el," hearing trains clack and rattle in my dreams. I had a father who built coffins, and then sold them for a dollar each.

"We can go when you're ready," Hyo-su said, dragging the quilt behind her like a gown.

I finished knotting the tourniquet against Lenore's leg. "That should keep until we get back and I can have a proper look and a good clean."

"Where?" she asked.

I stood up and offered her my hand. "Home."

She didn't take it.

"Have it your way," I said, closing my fingers. "Stay here."

"No," Lenore said, quickly. She shoved herself up to stand on her own. "N-no, I'll come." She took a ginger-step forward and then collapsed against my shoulder.

I almost fell over. Hyo-su made a move to catch me, but, her arms were full.

"Are you alright?" I asked.

Lenore pressed a hand down my back, wincing. "Yes, I'm okay."

Too late I realized what she searched for. I tried to turn away—to stop her!—but she pulled my gun and wrapped her fist with my braid before I could flinch.

"I'm sorry, really, I am," she said, pointing my revolver and its single bullet at Hyo-su, "but I can't go back with nothing."

Hyo-su leaned forward.

"No no," Lenore warned. "I'd rather not, but she's the doctor. I will shoot you and leave you for the mealies."

She wasn't pulling my hair, but I grabbed her fist anyway. "Lenore, what are you doing?"

"Taking you both home," she said, nodding toward the door. "And we're not waiting till morning."

A shiver raced through me. I looked at Hyo-su and saw it on her face, plain as it was on mine. Cads—mealies—didn't know night from day. They wandered at the same pace, no matter the hour; stumbling into food or each other. But there were other things, more dangerous, that hunted in the dark.

And we only had one bullet between us.

  ☛ A/N: Thank you a million times to everyone who has been reading this zany adventure so far, and for all of your wonderful comments and ★ votes ★

They mean the world to me.