I’m on my belly beside Luke. Somehow he’s opened his wound and I’m trying to apply another layer of bandages. He has his rifle at the ready, but he can’t sight very well with me fussing over him. Dakota has his eye pressed into his rifle scope, his finger ready on the trigger. Sierra is scanning with her scope, watching the approach from the north. Half a block to the south, on the west side of the street, I see Ovid, Peyton and Skye preparing themselves. Across from them, on the east side of the street, I see Cali, Vesta and Luka doing the same. Both groups are hunkered down, out of view from those coming but clear enough for me to see from above. I don’t know what to expect because I’ve never attacked the machines in this way before. I feel useless and wish I’d taken the heavy rifle earlier. The others have tasks and objectives. I have only to wait for them to need me. I pull the fabric back across Luke’s shoulder, patting softly to let him know I’m finished.
