Ghost in the Machine: K.C.
The lead Suburban hit the stone bridge with the cautious, heavy grace of a stalking predator. It was moving without lights, a black slab of armored steel against the dark pines. I watched it through the riser of my bow, my breath a slow, controlled intake of mountain air. Then, something happened. The vehicle lurched. It didn’t speed up or slow down. It swerved, the driver over-correcting as if he’d been blinded. I felt a shift in the air. The faint itch of their weaker static that had been clawing at my brain the closer they got had vanished. Tess. Somehow, she’d turned the ridge into a hall of mirrors, reflecting their signals back at them. The Suburbans were flying blind, their high-tech dowsing rod suddenly screaming that they were surrounded by Alphas that weren’t really there
- Writer
