“Almost.”

I don’t know yet. I’ll have to give this some serious thought. If Omega’s going to be seeing a lot more of us, they need a name that they’ll know and recognize instantly. Something that will scare them. Something that they’ll be forced to respect. The Free Army is good, but… we need something else.

As the day passes, Chris gathers everybody together and gives us a recap of what went down last night, also known as a mission debrief. He congratulates us all on a job well done and tells us what we could have done better. He talks about how Alexander rushed the guards at the end, and how we all need to avoid sacrificing unnecessary lives if we can avoid it. He talks about improving our aim and making sure we don’t break cover too soon.

“We need more ammunition and clothing for the fifty new recruits we picked up last night,” he says. “This can be our next opportunity to strike Omega and get the supplies we need at the same time. If we can keep our troops fed and clothed, there’s no reason we can’t be a serious threat to Omega’s forces.”

Those of us who have been trained by Chris and his team are supposed to start helping the newbies that we liberated from the labor camp last night learn the basics of fighting. That means I get to teach other people how to shoot.

Oh, yes. The hunted really have becomes the hunters.

It will be a few weeks before the new recruits are ready to go out and fight, but we don’t want the sting of our attack to be forgotten by Omega. We need to hit them again.

“Omega regularly sends patrols into this area here,” he says one day, indicating an area on a map being held up by a couple of militiamen. “On the east side of Dunlap, about thirty-eight miles out of Fresno — about ten miles from where we are right now. Those patrols are well armed. We could use more weapons and ammo. I say we hit the patrol.”

“I say we do, too,” Max agrees, folding up the map.

“Me too,” I agree.

“I’m coming too,” Jeff says, looking like his brother as he stands up, hands balled into fists. “I’m not staying behind this time.”

Chris doesn’t answer. In truth, Jeff should be out on the front lines with all of us. He knows how to handle a weapon. He’s eighteen years old, strong, healthy and willing to fight. I just know better than anybody else that Chris would never forgive himself if something happened to his little brother. But Chris isn’t stupid, either. We need every able-bodied men and woman on the front lines, fighting this war. Jeff is more than capable.

Chris nods. “We’ll talk,” he says quietly.

Everybody knows how Chris feels about keeping his family out of the firing line. I don’t blame him. I don’t want anybody in the Young family to get hurt, either. They’re all I have. My dad is missing — who knows if I’ll ever see him again? I’d like to hang onto whatever I’ve got left.

And so would Chris.

I do a lot of sneaking around. It’s cool and dark right now. The moon is shrouded by drifting clouds. We’ve left the pickups and trucks about five miles away. I’m following Chris through tall grass, and we’re nearing the main highway. A lump forms in my throat. Dunlap is more wide open than I was expecting.

Max has gone on ahead of us with his team — as usual — setting up the homemade reconnaissance and explosives. Omega will be passing through in a small convoy, and we intend to ambush them.

It will confuse them and give us time to enter the area, take their weapons and split. We sink into the tall grass, right at the edge of the road, watching the stretch of highway. All of us are wearing scarves over our faces, covering everything but our eyes. My hair color is also hidden with another scarf, over which I’m wearing a hat.

Keeping our identities secret from Omega will go a long way in keeping us alive. If they know us by sight and by name, they can track us down quicker. So we’ve found ways to work around that. Every time we bring in new recruits, they’re not told anybody’s real names. Codenames work. Omega doesn’t need to know anything about us — we should be a dangerous mystery to them.

Chris is Alpha One.

Thanks to my reputation as a speedy little riflewoman, I’ve been codenamed Yankee, if that makes any sense.

Sophia is Echo.

We don’t refer to each other by our real names unless we’re in private, and those who know what our real names are may never use them unless it’s absolutely necessary.

“Let’s make this clean and fast,” Chris says.

“Roger that, Alpha One.”

He rolls his eyes.

“What? It’s fun to say.” I settle back into the prone position, sweeping the road for any signs of Omega. “Right, Echo?”

Sophia stifles a laugh beside me.

“Copy that, Yankee.”

“Shut up, you two,” Derek hisses, but I can tell by the way his eyes are crinkling that he’s smiling. “They should be coming any minute now.”

Heck yeah. Max and his team are making their way back to us, coming around behind our group. “All set?” Chris whispers.

“Ready to go.” Max dips his head. “We’ll have to move fast. Some of our scouts are saying there’s at least five vehicles. Big ones.”

“We can handle that.” Chris throws a glance at me. “Stay in place, Yankee.”

“Yes sir, Alpha One.”

The clouds momentarily part, letting the moonlight shine through. A shadow falls across my face. I look up, startled, and then relax again when I hear the soft call of an owl. He drifts across the sky and makes an epic dive towards the ground, nabbing a small rodent for dinner.

“That’s so nasty,” Sophia mutters.

“That’s the great circle of life,” I say.

“Still. Nasty.”

“Not if you’re an owl.”

“Hold. Here they come,” Chris snaps.

He’s right. Because it’s so still, I can feel the slight rumble of vehicle engines as they make their way up the road. I look down my rifle sights, shutting my mouth, flicking the safety off. Listening and watching.

Below us, Alexander Ramos is in place with his team. He’ll be the first one to hit Omega after the explosion takes out their cars. Despite the arguments and tension between him and Chris, there’s no denying that Alexander is a good soldier, and not utilizing his skills would be a waste. He just has to learn to be a guerilla fighter.

The trucks come into view. They’ve got their headlights on, rolling slowly, seemingly unconcerned with hiding themselves from potential enemies. I’m guessing they’ve never encountered any trouble in this area before. As they round the bend in the road, I brace myself for the explosion. Max is counting down under his breath.

Nothing.

“Where are those detonations?” Chris hisses.

“I don’t know.” Max leans forward, watching the convoy rumble past the spot in the road where the explosions were supposed to go off. “They didn’t go off.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Sophia says.

As the seconds tick by, the convoy crawls towards us, getting closer to our ambush point. We remain still, camouflaged. “What do we do?” I whisper, tense.

“We can’t engage them now,” Chris replies. “We can’t—”

The sonic thunder of automatic weapons fire cuts him off. Of the five vehicles in the convoy, the first two swerves off the roadway, rubber squealing against the asphalt as the drivers desperately try to control the vehicles. One hits a tree and bursts into flames, spitting out billows of black smoke. Another vehicle tumbles down an embankment, doing a rollover, its tires still spinning as it lands on its roof. I stare, openmouthed at the sudden destruction and confusion. A daisy chain of linked blasts detonates under the wheels of the remaining vehicles, tossing one aside and forcing the others to grind to a halt.

“What just happened?” Sophia demands.