Lacey kept trying to catch Rede’s eye. She looked tentative, frightened, like the abandoned pets the crew used to see crouching in doorways and on rooftops in the days after the quake. The intensity was too much for Rede; she kept her eyes on the ground and focused on Shay, who had gone near-catatonic in the seat next to her.

Thanh had already stood to follow Wrench. The idea of visiting Ducky made Rede’s stomach churn, but the prospect of letting her friends go in to talk to him while Rede sat and stewed in her own anxiety seemed far worse than whatever their captive could possibly say. With a murmur, she got Shay to her feet and followed her friends out the door.

Although no clouds covered the sun, the air nipped at Rede’s ears and nose with a ferocity she hadn’t expected. She drew the jacket tighter and zipped it all the way up, letting the collar graze her chin as she ducked into its warmth. Behind her, Lacey’s breath hitched. A shameful wave of satisfaction rose up inside Rede.

Wrench knocked on the door of the second car, knuckles landing right between two fresh bullet holes.

Four-Stroke’s gruff voice answered: “Who’s there?”

“It’s us,” said Wrench. “Let us talk to the bastard.”

It only took a moment for the door to open. Ronan stood before them, somehow looking even more tired than he had when he left the first MAX car. A couple flecks of blood clung to his cheek. “Not the best time, kid,” he said.

“Pretty please?” Rivet asked. They stood on their tiptoes so Ronan could see their face over Rede’s shoulder. “We won’t do anything stupid.”

Judging by Ronan’s expression, he knew just how unlikely that was. After a moment of indecision, however, his shoulders slumped in defeat. He stepped aside to let the crew enter.

It was entirely dark inside this car; a stray bullet must have taken out the wiring, or the generator simply didn’t have enough power for all three. In the gloom, Rede could see Four-Stroke and another jacker she didn’t recognize standing over Ducky, who was seated on the floor with his hands behind his back. A pair of bruises darkened his cheek and a trail of blood oozed from his freshly split lip. As the crew entered, Ducky let out a noise that was half groan, half sigh. “You again.”

“Shut it,” the unfamiliar jacker warned.

“No, it’s fine,” said Wrench. “We’re here to talk to him.”

The whites of Ducky’s eyes caught what little light there was as he rolled them far enough back to make Thanh jealous. “We’ve all got better things to do than listen to a crippled kid.”

“Call her a cripple again, and I’ll cut out your tongue,” said Rivet.

Thanh glanced back at them, clearly impressed.

“If you want me to tell you anything, my tongue’s got to stay in my head.” Ducky shifted in a vain effort to find a more comfortable position.

“Then use it for something useful.” Mara crossed her arms and took a step closer. “Who’s your contact in the supply ring?”

Ronan let out a strangled noise, which he tried to disguise as a cough. “How in the hell do you know about that?”

Now it was everyone else’s turn to splutter. “You know about it too?” Rivet asked.

Ronan rubbed his face, smearing the specks of blood into his beard. When his hand fell away, he looked even more tired than before — something Rede wouldn’t have thought possible. “Can we not discuss this in front of him?” He jutted his chin toward Ducky, who winced as his smirk tugged at his cut lip.

“Who’s he even gonna tell?” said Rivet.

Ducky chuckled. Everyone ignored him.

“We should’ve talked about this earlier,” Ronan said to Rivet. “There wasn’t a way to tell you before, or else it would’ve been dangerous for you. It was safer to kick you out as soon as I heard about Shay’s suicide mission before the other boys connected the dots and came after me.”

“The other boys?” Mara echoed.

Rede and Inna were miles ahead of her. They exchanged a glance, confirming they’d both arrived at the same sickening conclusion.

Inna groaned. “Why the fuck does everyone we know turn out to be a cop?”

“Well, not anymore!” Rivet protested.

“The only good cop is the cop that quits,” Thanh said in a childlike singsong. She gave Ronan a nod. “I respect you, dude.”

“So that’s why you got rid of us,” said Wrench.

Ronan grimaced. “I’m sorry, kid. It was the only way to make sure you weren’t tied to me.”

“I get it,” Rivet said. They didn’t sound angry; instead, their voice was heavy with resignation. “Sometimes you gotta hurt someone to make sure no one else does something worse.”

The crew cast a near-simultaneous glance at Lacey.

“Still not what you’re supposed to do to family,” Ronan said.

“It’s cool.” Rivet shoved their hands in their pockets and took a fractional step closer to Lacey, who looked as fragile as cracked glass. “Let’s just focus on this shithead right now, yeah?”

Everyone redirected their attention to Ducky. He’d been watching the proceedings with a smirk; once he was the center of attention again, his smugness increased tenfold. “Family reunion isn’t going as planned, huh?”

Thanh cracked her knuckles. “Tell us who your contact is, shithead.”

“You’re not nearly as intimidating as you think you are.” Ducky yawned.

Something didn’t quite sit right with Rede. Even if Ducky did crack and even if he did tell the truth, they’d have to hunt down yet another person in search of…what? A name? A location? And then what? They had no plan. Besides, every second they wasted gave the cops more time to recuperate and come after them.

But they were too deep in it now to stop entirely. They had been for a while. Now, though, the reality of their situation had begun to hit home. Even if they dropped everything and sold out Ronan and Shay to the cops, there would be nothing to go back to. The loss of Ducky’s crew — not to mention Ducky himself — would leave a massive power vaccuum that someone was bound to fill, and this time, there was no Lacey to get the crew on the newcomer’s good side. They’d missed several meetings with clients this week. They didn’t even have enough food in the Barn to last more than a couple days — which reminded her, Rede was supposed to get in touch with their grocery guy somehow to negotiate extra food for Ronan.

“Holy shit,” Rede said.

Thanh glanced over her shoulder as she wound up for a punch. “What’d you say?”

“I just realized we don’t need his contact,” said Rede. “We already have one.”

Ducky scowled. “Like hell you do.”

“He’s technically your contact,” Rede said to Mara. “The grocery guy. The one who brings all the stuff to the yuppies in the hills.”

Mara froze. “Holy shit,” she echoed.

“Wait…” Thanh dropped her fist. “Dude, if we can just go to our normal meetup spot with him, and then follow him…”

Rede nodded along. “Exactly.”

“And what do you think you’re going to do once you get there?” Ducky demanded. His voice had gone up in pitch, words tumbling out rapid-fire as he scrambled for leverage.

“Okay, I hate to agree with this garbage man,” said Rivet, “but he’s kind of right. Are we just gonna march up to them and go, ‘Hey, stealing is wrong! Stop it!’ And expect them to walk away?”

“Look, I just came up with this idea,” Rede said defensively. “If you don’t like it, make a better one.”

“All they’re trying to say is, we can’t appeal to their conscience,” said Ronan, with a warning glance at Rivet.

Wrench grinned. It was wolfish, toothy, with a deadness in her eyes that set Rede’s nerves on edge. “Who said anything about appealing to their conscience?”