I considered switching to before I put on the mask. In the end, I decided against it. was the tool for the job here, even if maintaining anonymity was paramount. I didn’t know what I was looking for. A white panel van would be too obvious, but a delivery van, or even the black Escalade itself wouldn’t have stuck out much considering the neighborhood. I had to hope the title’s effect would be reduced somewhat, as I wasn’t in any severe and current danger.

After ensuring the guest room door was shut, I summoned Audrey, equipped my armor, and pulled the over my face.

A surge of panic and resentment settled over me as Audrey slithered into my hood.

I don’t know any of these people. Any one of them could be working with Daphne’s group or someone worse. Isn’t it all too convenient? They wake up after the meteor and find themselves with direct access to a potential treasure trove. And they just happen to want to share it with me? Please.

I frowned, attempting to shake off the thought. With the enhancement effect of the mask, it was more difficult because the title’s asides felt less like intrusive thoughts and more like they were genuinely my own.

It was convenient. And it was possible there was more to it. But it wasn’t that simple. This thing had layers. The system was handpicking people, assigning them special classes. Who was to say that it wouldn’t do the same with choosing where we started, what resources we had access to? Just because something seemed unlikely, felt suspicious, didn’t mean the source of that suspicion was any of the actors involved. The web itself had to be considered as well.

Kinsley’s door placed me directly on the doorstep of one of the many residences facing Matt’s gated community. The shadows felt longer, more dangerous, as if an ambush could be waiting in any one of them.

I set out on foot at first, as withdrawing a full-sized bike out of my ass like a magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat would be a clear giveaway. My armor seemed to disappear into the shadows, melding until it was hard to see my fingers in front of my face, and every time the shadows were washed away by an errant streetlight I felt the slightest tugging sensation, as if it was endeavoring to return to the darkness behind.

There was nothing in the description about that, but as I’ve said before, whoever was writing the item descriptions needed to be fired.

I narrowed my search to a few blocks around the two automated entrances to the gated community, waiting for to latch onto something, anything. There was nothing that stood out. No flower delivery van. No one sleeping in their cars. The strangest thing was the absence of cars parked nearby, but that was more likely a difference in neighborhood than anything else. No need to park on the street when everyone has their own garage.

All those little conveniences. Must be nice.

I shook my head, attempting to head off the bitterness. My circumstances had already shifted in a big way. I was likely far ahead of the curve in comparison to the rest of the population. Letting pick at old wounds was a pointless distraction.

At some point, I switched to my bike and finished the circuit. Then another, and another. Finally, I stopped and dismounted where I’d started, beneath the burnt out streetlight.

Occam’s razor. Buzzcut was listening to our conversation. With everything else that’s happening, maybe he actually bought it, and they’re prioritizing, leaving Nick alone until after the transposition event.

The overhead light flicked on, burning the shadows around my armor away. My heart hammered in my chest as I took a few steps back, suddenly blinded, staring up at the light and the metal column in confusion.

“Meaaat.” Audrey hissed into my ear, a single vine extending out to point downwards. I followed it. The small, oval panel on the light pole was hanging open. There was a mess of circuitry in the background, and two black dots suspended in the foreground.

They blinked, and I nearly shouted, taking an involuntary step back.

The eyes shot out of the panel and onto the ground, a translucent, nearly invisible form following. It took a moment for all the pieces to click together. It was a crab. A clear, gelatinous looking crab no bigger than a fist. And it was hauling ass.

“Get it,” I hissed.

Audrey leapt out of my hood, sending me a flash of appreciation. It had been days since she’d gotten any action. Unfortunately, the crab wasn’t easy prey. It high-tailed it sideways through the yard, grass rippling around it as it zig-zagged, dodging blows from Audrey’s vines.

I tried to cast on it, and felt an unpleasant sensation when the ability slid off.

The fuck?

I cast on Audrey immediately, feeling frustration in her reply as I called her back. As much as I understood the irritation, I knew how punitive the system could be. It wasn’t worth the risk. At least now, I had loose confirmation that whatever was in the streetlight wasn’t some sort of surveillance measure from Daphne’s group. It was, what?

Just an invisible alien crab in a light pole?

I watched the light carefully. It seemed to be operating perfectly in line with the rest of them. Did the crab repair the light? Or break it by climbing into it in the first place, like some kind of energy leech?

Does it even matter?

This was all a distraction from why I’d originally come out. had been uncharacteristically quiet, as it usually was in high-stress situations, but it hadn’t triggered on anything. Not even a false alarm.

Either Buzzcut had taken the bait, or they had some other way of keeping an eye on Nick’s whereabouts.

Unsure of what else to do, I took the door back to Nick’s guest room. I removed my equipment and left Audrey on the bed, sneaking down the stairs to the garage and checking the underside of his Jeep for anything out of the ordinary.

Without internet, tracking devices probably wouldn’t work. But it never hurt to be careful.

There you are.

I spotted what looked like a small blue coin, no bigger than a dime, stuck on the top side of the passenger rear wheel well.

They bought it, but they’re careful.

stopped me before I could tug it free. Something about not breaking contact in case whoever was monitoring its location could tell if it was detached.

I rooted around the garage until I found a thin piece of scrap metal.

Sweating from nerves, I slowly coaxed the coin onto the metal sheet. It moved stubbornly, the magnetic pull more than strong enough to prevent it from falling off, but it moved.

I placed the sheet back where I’d found it, with the device pointing down and away.

Considering my next steps, I swapped into and went to sleep.

/////

The following morning, I was still toying with the idea of taking Nick aside and telling him what I’d found. My main concern was if I did, he wouldn’t be able to keep it to himself. He’d at least tell Jinny, and while he trusted Jinny, I wasn’t sure if I did.

There was something about her entire schtick that was throwing me off. Most radiant people are only luminous from a distance. Once you’re close, their cracks begin to show, little imperfections that separate the real from the idealized. Sae was a perfect example. Now that I knew her, she came off as irritable, and more than a little underhanded.

But Jinny wasn’t showing any cracks. Her excitement for a new start was genuine, her enthusiasm infectious. She seemed patient, kind, and clever. The entire time we were outside, I was half expecting a blue-jay or a robin to land on her finger while she broke out into song.

It was suspicious as hell.

Nick had prepared a healthy breakfast of eggs, bacon, and more bacon. I considered where we stood. With the way direct messaging worked, if Jinny, Sae, or even Nick himself had a connection to Daphne’s group, we were fucked anyway. Staying quiet about it could only hurt us.

“I’m not hungry,” Sae stared down at her overfull plate. For some reason, her make-up looked heavier than usual, dark eyes accented with thick eyeliner wings. Maybe it was her version of getting her game face on.

Nick reached over the table and nudged the plate towards her. “It’s performance jitters. Eat. You’ll hate yourself later if you don’t.”

“Tabasco?” Jinny asked, indicating a half empty bottle. Her breakfast was covered with red.

“God no.” Sae looked squeamish at the thought.

I cleared my throat, and allowed the title to focus on each of them. “So…”

All heads turned to me.

“Anyone know how long that tracker’s been on Nick’s car?”

Someone’s fork dropped, clattering against their plate.