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“Our experiences with raising mutants varied from team to team. Some were quite docile, while others were disappointments. But there is one in particular that turned out to be extremely difficult. Maeve couldn’t be punished and submitted to obedience the old-fashioned way. She could endure everything from physical pain to psychological threats. And in the end, the only thing that worked was starvation. We stopped feeding her, and she was forced to follow our rules. But trust me when I say we were happy to be rid of her when the Revival Project was abandoned. We left during the night, and by morning she found herself alone in the deserted lab.”

Extract of an interview with bioengineer Dr. Mark Harvax, 2051.

“You’ve got to be kidding me…” says Jude.

And I remember what Bernie—the man we captured a few days ago—said about Maeve. ‘She’s strong. Really strong.’

We dismissed his comment. After all, all mutants are stronger than normal humans, me included. But I certainly can’t survive a rocket. The Devil of the Wastes has thick skin, but he bled during our fight. There is not one drop of blood on her.

Jude pulls out the gun strapped to my holster and starts shooting. The bullets ricochet over Maeve’s skin. She looks bigger—more muscular—than before as she walks toward us.

“Fuck…” Jude breathes out.

She’s getting closer. And I know from the look on her face and the gleam in her yellow eyes that if we jump over the bridge and into the river, she’ll follow. The fall might render me unable to fight, while leaving her barely stunned. We can’t risk it. She’ll kill us in the water, like her pet god does its victims.

I look at Jude, then at our surroundings. He can’t run to either side of the bridge, where the Highwaymen await. And he can’t jump without me; he’ll die.

My only choice is to face Maeve if I want to give us a chance to escape. And either way, we have a score to settle.

I take a fighting stance as she walks the remaining distance separating us. I share a glance with Jude, ordering him to step back.

“You think you can take my empire?” Maeve bellows. “I’m the only one strong enough to rule over the wastelands!”

At least, as I was building my underground city, I wasn’t under the delusion that I was the better man. I just wanted to carve my place in the world and survive.

In the distance, on the other side of the dam, Altamaha-ha is agitated. His long tail creates waves that crash over the canyon and the spillways. He’s frustrated that we stand on this bridge and are not closer to his lake. He’s hoping he’ll get the leftovers from our fight.

Well, he can go fuck himself.

Maeve rushes at me, forcing me to forget about everything but the incoming fight. I dodge to the side. I’ve learned my lesson from the Devil of the Wastes. I can’t let her get her hands on me, or she’ll crush me. Her foot comes down as she pivots, leaving cracks in the asphalt.

“Do you know which god I got my DNA from?” she asks.

“No. And I don’t care,” I say.

My veins turn darker over my body and neck as I prepare my electricity. Sparks rise from my skin. I’ve recovered enough and could set fire to a dry field. I’ve seen it happen before.

Maeve smiles. It’s an ugly smile, edged with madness. “There is an old god in Africa, with horns longer than a man and—”

I don’t give her time to finish; she likes to hear herself talk, and I don’t have time for a villain monologue. I step forward, put both hands on her naked shoulders, and release a heavy electric charge. She screams before punching my hands. I wince as two fingers break. I step back.

Maeve shakes herself and glares at me. “Interesting party trick,” she says.

This attack would have killed a normal human. I’ll just have to up my game. No matter how thick the tiger’s skin is, its insides are still composed of water.

The Highwaymen don’t dare get closer; the bridge seems a little precarious since the rocket hit it. But they cheer their master from both sides.

Maeve jumps back into action, aiming for my head with a wide kick. Once again, I dodge it easily. Her fighting style is crude. She relies too much on her brute force. I regret to say that I learned how to fight with the best teacher: my father. He might have been a terrible father figure and master, but he was a hell of a soldier. Before the Rise, he was a special agent. The kind that the US government sent on difficult missions. A heartless combatant.

Helios taught me kindness. But before that, Sergeant Kang taught me how to be deadly efficient in combat. The only person who ever got the best of me was the Devil of the Wastes.

The next time Maeve comes at me, I pull out the knife I kept hidden in my holster. I stab her in the gut. The blade gets deflected by her thick skin, and I’m taken against my will by the momentum. I hoped that something sharp would be enough. I was wrong. Maeve grabs me into a chokehold, and I barely have time to reach with my arm and stop her from crushing my throat instantly. My arm takes the damage. There is the audible noise of bones breaking, followed by an explosion of pain. I grunt and kick the ground to try to release myself. We fall backward, but she refuses to let me go.

With her strength, I’ll be dead in seconds.

Jude—the impossibly beautiful and incredibly stupid man—has pulled out his own army knife, and he appears above us to stab her in the eye with it. Maeve screams as he buries the blade deep. She releases me. I roll away from her deadly embrace. Jude pulls me away by my good arm while I cradle the other to my chest.

Maeve gets to her feet, blood running down her face and her body. The knife didn’t get deep enough to kill her, but it was enough to take her eye out.

So, she can bleed, too. Good.

“I’m going to make sure to keep you alive while I cut parts off you to feed to Altamaha-ha,” she says to Jude.

“Not if I take your other eye out first,” he says, smiling.

This man loves to play with fire.

Maeve rushes at him. And the fear that surged through me two days ago when she ordered Jude to be thrown over the dam is nothing compared to the one I feel now. If she gets her hands on him, she’ll break him. Irrevocably. He’s only human.

Anything but that. I’m only alive because of him, in many aspects. If he’s gone… I just don’t want to imagine it. I haven’t felt so alive since the day Helios left me, years ago. Jude has taken the broken monster that I was and brought him back to life.

He steps back, barely avoiding her rage. The bridge shakes as she lands.

But as Maeve readies her next attack, I jump on her back and release everything I have. All the electricity stored in my organs. It courses through my dark veins, thanks to the iron-thick blood pumped by my mending heart. My body starts overheating in a matter of seconds. And yet, I don’t let go. At first, she screams loud enough to make my eardrums bleed. She claws at my face with her fingers and nails, almost taking my eye out, too. But eventually, she stops struggling. She stops making any noise. And still, I refuse to let go. She needs to be dead when I pull back. I can’t let her walk away from this. Or even crawl.

At some point, I’m forced to let go as my vision darkens. I’ve spent all that I have, to the point of fading. Maeve falls heavily to the ground, and I tilt back. Jude catches me before my head can hit the asphalt.

“Fuck. You’re burning up,” he says, placing my head on his lap.

Worry shines in his blue eyes as he surveys me. It’s something I could get used to. I reach for his face with my hand and startle when I notice the purple bruises around my veins. I’m covered in them. I’ve pushed my body to its limits.

“You look like shit,” Jude says with a little smile.

“Thanks. And you look stunning, as always,” I retort.

“Of course, I do.”

I laugh. “We need to go before they get out of their stupor and decide to kill us.” I gesture with my good arm to the Highwaymen waiting on both sides of the bridge. They might figure that the one to kill us will be their new leader. I’m surprised they haven’t started shooting already.

“Where to?” Jude asks. “We’re kind of limited in our escape options.”

“The river.” I try to get to my feet, but I fail miserably.

Jude sighs. “I doubt we’ll survive it.”

“You might, if I use my body to protect yours from the fall.”

He snorts. “Out of the question.”

“What? You were ready to put a bullet in my head less than a week ago.”

“Yes. And that was then, and this is now. I say we go out swinging.” He pulls out the gun he took from my holster earlier, plus the one strapped to his belt. “With some luck, some of my remaining siblings will be casualties before we go down.”

We’re about to die, and he’s smiling. I can’t help but smile, too. I was supposed to die a few weeks ago when the Devil of the Wastes pierced me with his swords. And before that, Jude almost died at my hands. Our lives took such an unexpected turn. And yet, I regret nothing. We had a good run. Together, against all odds.

“Give me my gun and help me up,” I say.

He obeys without a snarky remark, for once. My broken arm hangs limply on my side, but I can still shoot with the other one.

Some of the Highwaymen are arguing and already making their way toward us. They leave their cars behind; the bridge might not hold them. Jude slides an arm around me to help me stay up.

But right as we’re about to start shooting, a large shadow falls over the bridge. We both drop to a crouch instinctively. Something coming from the sky is never good news. The Firefly might have been the last aircraft to fly, and it has crashed over the canyon.

Quetzalcoatl has appeared from beyond the mountains. The feathered serpent swoops down west of the bridge and carries two Highwaymen away in his talons. They have no time to scream as the giant creature eats them whole. His long body undulates in the sky, his red and green scales reflecting the sun. His large wings raise clouds of dust over the wastelands.

Pandemonium ensues. The crowds disperse, fleeing the old god set on feasting on them. Jude and I, standing in the middle of the bridge alone, are far below his notice.

“How about that…” says Jude, smiling.

I have no words as Quetzalcoatl carries a car in his talons and drops it into the river below. It crashes with a great noise. On the other side of the dam, Altamaha-ha appears at the surface of the lake and lets out a deafening roar.

After that, things happen fast. The new god turns his attention to the one calling Lake Mead his home. The old gods are extremely territorial, and the clash of titans left entire cities in ruin during the Rise. Nowadays, encounters are rarer, as most of them have found their bearings. But it appears that Quetzalcoatl has been looking to relocate.

“Fuck…” says Jude, just as Quetzalcoatl dives toward Altamaha-ha, talons first.

The two old gods clash in a fury of rocks and water.

“Time to go,” I say as the bridge shakes under our feet.

This is our chance. The Highwaymen are all scattering like mice chased by the smell of a cat. If we can find a truck, we might have a chance of getting out of their territory.

I limp to the end of the bridge with Jude’s help. The two immortal creatures fight with ferocity I have never witnessed. Quetzalcoatl’s talons created deep gashes along Altamaha-ha’s back and tail, turning the lake a deep red.

“I’ve never seen an old god bleed,” Jude whispers, in shock.

“Me neither,” I admit.

It’s been a long time since humans had the capacity to even scratch a god.

Altamaha-ha stretches his reptilian neck and manages to close his jaw around the serpent’s long body. Quetzalcoatl thrashes and fights back, losing a few dozen giant feathers. The two gods fall into the water and hit the dam. The massive concrete wall shakes and cracks.

“Oh, shit…” says Jude.

One more hit, and the Hoover Dam breaks. The giant concrete wall explodes under the pressure, destroying the rest of the structure on the other side. The massive wave pulls the old gods to the river below, and they crash at the bottom. The earthquake must have been felt for miles.

We’re lucky to be standing on the bridge that they built over the canyon. Jude and I watch with horror as Lake Mead empties itself with devastating force, taking over the Colorado River. The land beyond will be flooded for miles. The water will kill everything and everyone in its path. The hut where we spent the night might already be gone.

Jude’s arm shakes around my back. I get a hold of his hand and squeeze.

“Let’s go,” I say.

We’re some of the lucky ones. Let’s not waste that luck.

In the panic, someone left a desert buggy at the end of the bridge. Jude straps me to the passenger’s seat before sitting behind the wheel.

Before leaving, I spare one last glance at the Firefly that has crashed over the canyon. The aircraft appears to be whole, but the aero engine is still smoking. I wonder if Fyfe can feel abandonment and loneliness. Even rudimentary AIs can surprise us sometimes.

“We’ll come back for him,” Jude says, following my gaze. “With some luck, Margaret will be able to patch him up.”

I nod.

We drive away from the ruins of the Hoover Dam, the roars of the fighting old gods echoing over the wastelands.

My arm has its own heartbeat. The bones have been broken by Maeve in a few different places. Once we’re at a safe distance from the dam, Jude parks in the ruins of a small town.

“We need to set your arm,” he says to me. “It’ll hurt less if it’s set right. Also, from what I’ve seen of your healing speed, they might already be mending wrong.”

I nod.

Jude digs into the wooden chest at the back of the buggy. He announces that we have food, water, and extra fuel. And, surprisingly, pain medication. The Highwaymen must have stolen them from traveling merchants.

He offers me water in a dented mug and a tablet. I stare at it in the center of his palm with a strange mixture of affection and wonder. Two weeks ago, he used to ram them down my throat.

“How far we’ve come,” Jude whispers, watching me.

There’s a fond smile on his face and a blush that might not come from the sun.

I lean forward and kiss him. He slides a hand into my sweaty hair and pulls, dragging a growl out of me. My broken arm stops me from pulling him over my lap, and I have to be content with my good hand on his ass.

“It looks like you’re at my mercy again,” he says close to my lips.

“It looks like it. Take good care of me, master.”

He shudders and bites my bottom lip.

I swallow a scream as he sets my arm and puts it in a splint. But the tender way he soothes my pain with a hand on my brow makes it all worth it. I would break my arm over and over again just to have him touch me with such care and affection. I’ve been starving for touch for years. He’s offering a gulp of fresh water after crossing the desert.

We drive for a few hours until we reach Gears and Giggles. Margaret welcomes us with a gun carelessly hanging over her shoulder and a frown.

“I’ve heard some strange tales,” she says. “Something about a mutant killing another one with his pet, Quetzalcoatl.”

Jude laughs. “I wish it was that cool. But we almost got our asses handed to us by two angry old gods. Sorry to bother you again, but we need time to heal and have nowhere else to go. The Firefly crashed.”

Margaret watches us as Jude helps me out of the buggy. “You know you’re always welcome here, Jude. And, apparently, you too,” she says, giving us a pointed look. Jude’s hand rests on my lower back.

Jess takes care of our wounds as we tell them our story. The two women are happy that we put an end to Maeve’s rising tyranny. Without a leader, the Highwaymen have scattered to the wind. They send a signal to their son to warn the Traveling Market and its king that the mutant queen has been killed and her minions are ripe for the picking. They make sure to talk about Jude’s involvement. With some luck, the King will let bygones be bygones.

They let us stay for two weeks while my arm heals. They give us the bus to sleep in at night. Meanwhile, we help them as best as we can to earn our keep. As it turns out, I’m a valuable asset for mechanics. I can recharge batteries and feel whether a circuit is in working order or not. Jude is also very skilled with his hands. He grew up working on his parents’ cars and trucks.

I’ve come to love the two women. They treat me like an overgrown teenager and not a powerful mutant. On the first days, their teasing and orders used to raise my hackles. But Jude was there to put me in my place in his usual manner, with seduction and threats.

It’s still a learning process for me to become a decent person. I doubt I’ll ever excel at it, but I’m willing to try.

In the third week, we scout the wastelands around the Hoover Dam. We find no trace of Quetzalcoatl in the sky. The old god must have moved on to more lush parts of North America. And from the radio signals we intercepted, Altamaha-ha has followed the river farther south to lick his wounds.

The Highwaymen have not returned to the dam, now a wet ruin. But the Firefly is still hanging from the mountainside.

As we reach the cockpit, Fyfe opens the door and welcomes us with “Hello, Mr. President. Mr. Vice President. I’m afraid I’m out of order.”

“It’s okay, Fyfe. We’ll patch you up. You’ll fly again,” says Jude.

It’s the first time he hasn’t called him Dumdumb.