Corva wakes, eyelids thick and heavy. The remnant smell of coffee tinges the air. There’s a strange sound, kind of like gurgling static. She shakes the fog from her head and notices her arm, outstretched forward and upward. At the end of her arm, she holds the throat of a flailing boy.

That boy!

This self-serving little snot was going to leave her flapping in the wind with Tretch and his ilk. And then after that, he shot her.

She squeezes harder. That gurgling static sound transforms into gasps and wheezing. She’s distantly aware of another noise. Screaming?

There’s a popping sound followed by something that sounds like the wind, and she’s suddenly no longer able to move.

A moment later, everything goes black.