SS: TIE 021

A fan spins lazily and the AC coughs in the dingy room. An ad for the FUTA Network’s newest show plays on the TV.

Rey finishes wrapping her bandages and leans back with a grimace. The smell of dried sweat and **** is almost enough to make her cough, and coughing will be very painful in the state she’s in.

Sun emerges from the other room, discarding bloody gloves. She comes straight to Rey and looks critically at her handiwork, then sinks to a crouch and lowers her voice. The skinny woman’s professionalism is surprising; Rey has heard stories about how she lost her medical license. Rey is a serious criminal, and even she thinks that sort of behavior doesn’t belong in a hospital.

Sun looks serious. “She lost a lot of blood. You got the tourniquet on in time, but with what I had to do to get it off, we’re looking at long-term damage to that leg. That’s the good news. The bad news is that I can’t guarantee good work on her abdominal wound with what I have here. She has to go to a hospital. The bleeding isn’t bad, but she’s full of lead.”

Rey considers it. “How far from here can I get her before I take her to a hospital?”

“I wouldn’t count on more than two or three hours. We shouldn’t be waiting now.”

“That’s enough time for me to get her to Cuba if I put her on a plane.”

“Sounds expensive.”

“I know. What about me?” Rey asks.

“That one, you were lucky.” Sun points at the wound to Rey’s side. “I can’t guarantee there’s no organ damage. There must be. But there’s no really bad signs yet. So, you’re going to want to get checked out too. The real problem here and now is this graze. It’s painful and it’ll make it hard to move. What’s your opiate tolerance like?”

“None.”

“Good. Because if you’re going anywhere and doing anything, you’ll need to be **** to hell and back. Start with one of these. More than one will probably get you high, and I don’t think you want to be high right now, so keep it steady.”

Rey swallows the pill and takes the bottle with a wince. “Get her ready to move.”

“Don’t you want to call Glynda?”

“She’s not picking up.”

“Honestly, Rey. She needs to go in a wheelchair.”

“Fine. Give me your phone.”

SS: TIE

The sun is setting over the detention center.

Sally sits with a groan the retaining wall outside and takes a long pull on the cigarette that she was able to bum from the shift supervisor.

Elsa seems to fear Adella Salazar about as much as she fears a goldfish. Sally doesn’t want to think about what she must have gone through to make her this way. Elsa used to be messy, but there’d always been an undercurrent of wanting to the do the right thing. Or if not the right thing, then at least seeking some kind of affirmation by being a people pleaser, rough edges and all. The old Elsa hadn’t liked herself very much; that had always been obvious, even to young Sally, smitten with Rey. In college, Elsa had been trying to be better, in her own way.

Something has put a stop to that. Sally knows lots of veterans on the ****. Long before college, Sally stood there with every other kid in her classroom with her hand on her heart, reciting the pledge of allegiance. It hadn’t taken long for policework to convince her that was all bullshit. But whatever Rey and her friends had dealt with in the army seems to have taken things much further than mere disillusionment.

She tosses the cigarette aside and gets to her feet.

The trail is not cold. There’s one last lead, and whatever Sally ever felt for Rey died with all those people today.

SS: TIE

A sketchy-looking plane on an even sketchier airstrip can still be a beautiful sight.

Chica, face pale and sweaty, stoically tolerates every bump as Rey does her best on the terrible swamp road. The pills take the edge off, but they don’t make it easier to think clearly.

GB CARGO is printed in black letters on the side of the old Skyhawk, and two women wait beside it. One openly holds a submachine gun. Rey pulls up and kills the engine. The unarmed woman approaches.

“We in a hurry?” she asks, looking worriedly at Chica.

“Yup,” Rey grunts, helping Chica out of the car. Chica clings to her, only the vaguely psychotic look in her eyes giving away how much pain she’s in.

The woman looks around for a moment, then nods to her partner. Rey and Chica arduously move one step at a time as the plane’s engine coughs and rattles to life.

“You might as well know,” the woman shouts at them. “Adella Salazar’s offering five million for you. Dead or alive. So, the way I see it, that’s five million to us.”

“We’ll work it off,” Rey growls. Lifting Chica into the plane all but kills her. Eyes closed and jaw tight, Chica sits in her seat, taking short breaths through her nose. Rey manages to get her belted in, then leans against the side of the plane and shudders.

“What about Ro?” Chica bites out.

“Worry about her if you’re still alive tomorrow,” Rey gasps.

The pilot has her headset on, but hasn’t closed her door yet. “You coming?” she shouts.

There’s one more seat in the little plane. Rey grits her teeth; this ride for Chica has cost her every penny that she has.

Kayla is still here, along with a few loose ends, like Adella Salazar.

Should Rey stay behind to get Kayla and clean things up?

Or climb into the plane?