His Queen of Chaos
Crowe's men fired at shapes, at shadows, at each other; I put two of them down on the way to the northeast corner without breaking stride and did not feel a single thing about it, because all the feeling in me had narrowed to one point of light, one heat signature, one voice that had just torn through the chaos screaming here, I'm here, I'm here.
I followed it. Not the map. Not Naomi. Her voice. Every cell in my body turned toward it like a compass finding north, and I came around the last stack of pallets and through a doorway low and fast, and in the strobing muzzle-light I saw a body over another body on the concrete, and for one instant the entire world was going to end.
Then the top bod