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  It’s not nearly on par with that. But it’s something. A glimmer of real existence. A sense of thriving, not just surviving. I can feel the phantom sensation of horns and tail as I sprint, my body and system recalling exactly what it is like to be powerful and unstoppable.

  The feeling dissipates as I find Megaptera. He’s standing over what used to be the walls for the prison. I can see several gray uniformed guards sticking out from the rubble. There’s screams coming from inside as Megaptera leans forward to tear into it with unbridled savagery. Mantis claws and horns shred the structures, collapsing them on guards and inmates alike, followed by point blank blasts of Megaptera’s eye lasers. He’s razing the place to the ground.

  I stare at him, my stomach collapsing in on itself.

  He’s killing them. He knows he’s killing them. This isn’t some misunderstanding or mistake like when we thought we were playing a videogame. He’s here, in the real world, on our world, and he’s slaughtering people.

  There’s not a damn thing anyone, let alone me, can do to stop him.

  This realization is followed by another one. Samuel is in that burning mass of rubble. Or, what’s left of him is.

  Megatpera’s frenzy is as thorough as it is destructive. Even the bricks are reduced to ash.

  The heat of the flames washes over me, drying out my eyes. Then they’re gone. No flames, just cinders and ash. Megaptera lifts his head and for a second, those eyes are fixed on me, taking me in.

  They should terrify me. I am terrified. But less because of the monster in front of me than because of what it’s done. What I’d been craving. I chased Megaptera down because I want to be Taisaur again. I want to be a monster. I miss it so much. And monsters kill people.

  For half a second, I think I see the rage meter flash. Or maybe it’s in my head. Because with those eyes fixed on me, all I can remember all of a sudden is those fucking laser beams. And I want them.

  I don’t know if it’s a suicidal thought, some weird desire to punish myself. Or if it’s a phantom memory of being Taisaur, of knowing I could stand there and take whatever Megaptera can dish out.

  The moment’s over as quickly as it begins and Megaptera lifts his head and roars to the sky, hard enough that I fall to the ground, covering my ears. I hear ringing and feel his footsteps as he moves away rather than hear them.

  I’m left alone on the street, nothing but ruins around me as he continues. For a few moments I wonder where he’s going. Then I remember there’s more than a single facility in Huntsville. He’s going to destroy them all.

  And crouching there in a ball clutching my head and feeling like every bone and muscle in my body’s been replaced with Jell-O, I realize, and finally, fully understand that there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.

  Chapter Three

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  Lusitania bit the inside of her cheek to keep from screaming something decidedly unladylike. As much as she wanted to hurl her phone straight through the nearest fuckwad’s forehead hard enough to paint the wall behind him with his grey matter, swearing the most obscene curses she could think of—and Lusitania could think of quite a few—doing so wouldn’t improve her situation. And she really didn’t want to test for ways to see how it could be made worse. She had just tried to check her email on her phone and received an alert that blocked her. Daddy’s new security program at work. For her protection.

  Her knuckles whitened as she gripped her phone hard enough that the more rational part of her mind, which she drew on to provide her social mask, warned her to lessen her hold or she’d risk cracking her screen. More than half of her apps had been forcibly deleted and all of her remaining social media apps were locked and monitored.

  There was only one app on her phone that Daddy’s pet tech-fucks hadn’t been able to worm their way into. It was the app she most wanted to use and the one which she had to be the most careful about using. If Daddy discovered it…disaster didn’t begin to cover it. A blushing bride shitting herself in her wedding dress at the alter before God and all her loved ones would kick up less of a shit storm than Daddy discovering Kaiju Wars Online.

  Daddy was a senator for Las Vegas and kaiju were the new political hot button after Oxford. She was in enough trouble for having stayed behind to fix things after that big ass snake had showed up without Daddy knowing the full extent of her involvement. If word got out that the Senator Church’s daughter was anything other than the dutiful little heiress it would be bad. If word got out that Senator Church’s daughter was a mother fucking kaiju it would be a blood bath. Never mind that she hunted other kaiju.

  An alert showed up on her phone letting her know that the text message she had not yet received was being processed. Processed. Because the ungodly amount of suited security fucks watching her twenty-four seven weren’t enough. Daddy needed to know what she was talking about on the phone. Privacy was dead.

  The text was deemed safe and allowed through. Isabella had just pulled up to the house and needed the new security code to get through the gate. There was a time when Lusitania could have just texted it back to her friend but experience with the damn security program had taught her that it would be an exercise in futility. That sort of information was blocked and trying to call her wouldn’t do any good.

  With a sigh that desperately wanted to be a “Fuck all this shit!” she made her way to the front door, having to stop twice to circle around security fucks. Secret service her ass. How the hell Daddy had managed to wrangle them into this shit-gig was beyond her. They’re presence was almost enough to make her wish for his old seedier connections. Awful and frankly fucking creepy as they were, at least they had personalities. She could manipulate or handle those dumb-fucks. Secret Service liked to pretend they were robots. Each and everyone one of the living statues had the charisma of a kidney stone.

  One of them leapt in front of her before she could open the door and then stepped out ahead of her. Because she was likely to take a bullet here. Did the man actually think she was in danger? That would be a laugh if so. What would they do if they ever realized they were actually there to keep her observed and under Daddy’s thumb?

  Biting her tongue to keep from calling the man a dickhead she walked down the driveway to let Isabella and her huge truck inside. Lusitania was tempted to leap into the passenger seat and scream “Go! Go! Go!” and just take off with her best friend and former roommate. They wouldn’t get far if they tried.

  “You look like a constipated Barbie doll,” Isabella said as Lusitania pulled herself up into the truck’s cab for the brief ride down the driveway. These precious few moments as they made their way down the driveway would be their only opportunity to speak freely without fear of eavesdroppers.

  “Fuck you, bitch,” Lusitania said, savoring the taste of profanity on her tongue. She hadn’t been able to let herself cuss aloud since coming home. Her real home had been Oxford, Mississippi, where she’d had a modicum of freedom. It, along with her university, were a smoking ruin that would probably never recover.

  “Careful,” Isabella said with a sly grin. “One of your minders might hear and think that we’re lovers.” She waggled her eyebrows, then burst out laughing when Lusitania rolled her eyes.

  “I don’t know how much more of this bullshit I can take,” she said.

  “You knew there’d be fallout when we stayed in Oxford after the attack,” Isabella said.

  “Fallout yes, but not the nuclear variety. Daddy’s gone fucking nuts. It’s a reign of terror, I tell you. I can’t wipe my ass without someone checking to make sure I used the right square of toilet paper.”

  To her credit Isabella didn’t laugh, though she looked like she would have liked to. “At least the tyrant hasn’t forbidden us from contact with each other.”

  “It was a near thing,” Lusitania said. “He still blames you for my disobeying him before.”

  “Yo
u tell him staying in Oxford was your idea?”

  “Of course, I did,” Lusitania said. “But I didn’t say he thought it was your fault. I said he’s blaming you.”

  Isabella let out a stream of Spanish that sounded especially colorful. The only word Lusitania made out was puta, which no one had ever satisfactorily translated for her. As she understood it, meant something along the lines of bitch-whore, but that didn’t really do the word justice.

  They parked the truck and Lusitania took a moment to withdraw back within herself. If she wasn’t careful her mask would slip and wouldn’t that just be wonderful. The pair headed inside, pausing so the secret service could give Isabella’s curvy figure a pat down and check for hidden weapons. Considering how Isabella made her living, she didn’t need any. And at least the bastards were professional about it instead of trying to cop a feel like Daddy’s usual associates.

  After what had happened to the men Daddy had sent after them in Oxford perhaps it wasn’t surprising that he’d upgraded to the patriotic automatons. Thinking of the high heeled shoe Isabella had driven through that one fucker’s arm still brought a smile to Lusitania’s face.

  “That grin’s fucking creepy,” Isabella said and Lusitania quickly corrected it, affixing a mild, placidly happy expression on her face and letting her eyes go lifeless.

  “Better?”

  “By who’s standard?” Isabella asked, crossing her arms.

  It would have to suffice. You could become petrified trying to make something perfect. Sometimes good enough just had to do if you wanted to actually get on with your life. Although, as she looked around, it seemed to her there weren’t as many people around—secret service or otherwise—for her mask to fool. Where was everyone?

  A cursory investigation found everyone gathering in the living room, which was odd. Normally Daddy had people coming together in his office, or what everyone half-jokingly called the war room. And the secret service people weren’t the type to slack on the job.

  Then Lusitania saw the television and she understood.

  A kaiju had shown up in Texas.

  “Madre de Dios,” Isabella said in a gasp beside her. “Another one?”

  Lusitania nodded. Only saying it was another one wasn’t quite right. Because she knew that kaiju on the television. She’d killed him before. She’d also fought alongside him, along with several others, including her not-really-step-cousin Aaron, to stop the alien fucks who’d sent Titanocobra to destroy Ole Miss. “I know him.”

  Isabella grabbed her by the arm and pulled her from the living room before anyone could pay them any real attention. Or notice Lusitania’s slip. Isabella pulled Lusitania into a guestroom and closed the door behind them.

  “What do you mean you know him?” she asked, keeping her voice low. Considering the amount of passion burning in it, that was an impressive feat. “You mean you saw that alien in the game, right?”

  Lusitania shook her head. “Technically I did see him in the game, but no. That kaiju isn’t an alien. It’s a player.” She explained as quickly as she could about Aaron bringing his gamer friends together to help fight the aliens.

  “So, the other players are learning how to bring a kaiju here,” Isabella said thoughtfully.

  Lusitania made a rude noise. “Please. It’s not exactly difficult to figure out.”

  Isabella’s eyes went wide. “You mean?”

  Lusitania brought a finger to her lip and glanced meaningfully at the closed door behind her. “We can’t talk about it here.” She made a growling sound. “Hell, we can’t talk about much of anything here.” Or do anything, she silently added.

  Isabella was clearly thinking along the same lines, however, because she gave a nod. “Then we need to change your circumstances.”

  Lusitania raised an eyebrow. “And just how do you plan to do that?”

  Isabella gave a wicked grin.

  Chapter Four

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  I survive.

  That’s more than I can say for Huntsville, Texas.

  The radio’s been a lifesaver. Even if the voices listing off the casualties and destruction are barely keeping themselves under control, they’re still a form of human contact. If anything, the combination of emotion and facts is soothing, it helps me cope with my own desire to break down and panic and focus on the details, no matter how horrific.

  The body count changes every few minutes. Sam Houston State University did not come out of this okay, but the prison got it the worst. As a result, so did the town. The prison isn’t—wasn’t—just a single facility, it was several. And Megaptera went after each of them until there was nothing left but scorched earth where they and all of their inhabitants had been.

  Getting to them meant he’d had to cross the town, smashing city hall, local businesses, and tearing up a good portion of I-45. The latter makes me glad Kerrville is west instead of north or south. The Houston and Dallas commuters are pretty much screwed for the foreseeable future.

  Oddly enough, the Sam Houston museum survived and so did the iconic statue of the man just south of town. The second largest freestanding statue in the US, the radio people have started talking about it, focusing on its survival amidst all the ruin in some attempt to bring about hope. It would probably have worked better if they hadn’t let a local from Huntsville on the line. The man told everyone how several years ago the ladies of Huntsville had demanded that grand old Stupendous Sam’s groin be ground down because the bulge was too prominent.

  It’s on this note that I finally pull into Mom’s driveway and park. My hands are shaking and my forearms and fingers ache from gripping the wheel so tight through the drive. I take a deep breath. Then another.

  They help, but only just. Deep breaths used to help a lot more. Once upon a time they were my first and strongest defense against my temper. Now, faced again with my own meager mortality, they feel severely inadequate.

  When I’d been playing the game, I never thought much about Megaptera or his player. Or the aliens we were crushing beneath us. He was just a decent player, a fun guy to play with who had my back when one of our group had a mission to complete. He, along with Xenatlas and Solrin, helped me train up my kaiju, Taisaur to a respectable level.

  None of it was real then. There was this disconnect between just how big and powerful each other’s kaiju were because we were all big and powerful and none of it was real. Now? Having been so close to Megaptera while he deliberately slaughtered everyone in the prison? I can’t even think of that kaiju in the same way. Nor the player. God, I wish I knew his name instead of his kaiju’s. Then I could get in touch with him and ask what the hell he thinks he’s doing.

  Only, I think I can. Get in touch with him, that is. But it would mean logging back into the game. I glance down at my phone. The app for Kaiju Wars pops up on the screen. It’s beckoning me. Just one click and I can reach out and get some answers.

  I take up the phone but instead of clicking the app I make a call.

  “Oh, now you want to talk?” Isabella answers on the fourth ring.

  “Good to hear your voice,” I say, and it is.

  Isabella is the one who got away. She’s a gorgeous, intelligent Latina athlete who’s way smarter than me and has a real future. She knows it too, which is why she’s focusing on getting her degree at another school instead of coming out here to the middle of Nowhere, Texas to live with me and Mom.

  It was the smart call. I was leaning on her way too much after going cold turkey from Kaiju Wars. When I realized what I was doing I quit calling her. It wasn’t fair to her to keep stringing her along with some long-distance bullshit.

  Hearing her voice, even furious as she sounds, sweeps through me like hot water and dish soap on a greasy plate. It’s purging. I can feel parts of me unwinding already and we’ve barely said two words to each other.

  “Are you hurt?” she asks. No, d
emands.

  “I’m…no, but I was there.” Shit. Why did I tell her that?

  “You what? Why the hell would you be there?” I didn’t need to explain to her where “there” was. Like I said, Isabella’s smart. She probably knew from the instant my number showed up on her phone.

  “I was doing a favor for a friend when…the kaiju showed up,” I say. The name wouldn’t mean anything to her. Isabella knows about Kaiju Wars Online. She knows about me and Taisaur and she knows about my not-really-my-cousin Lusitania, who’s another player. Also, Isabella’s best friend and former roommate. Cue Space Balls joke.

  “I…” I start to talk, then falter, realizing how stupid I’m about to sound. I push on anyways because I’ve already opened my mouth. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  Isabella makes an unladylike snort into the phone. “Me? Another kaiju nearly crushes you and you’re worried about me? I’m in Las Vegas. No giant monsters over here.”

  The kaiju attacks have been kept to the South, now that I think about it. Oxford, Mississippi, Dallas, Texas, and now Huntsville, Texas. Not that there was any real explanation behind those first two attacks other than it’s where we players were. That thought makes me freeze up as it trips another in my head.

  Isabella doesn’t know that Megaptera wasn’t sent by the aliens. Do I tell her? Doing so feels like it would be a major betrayal of Megaptera’s trust. On the other hand, I just watched him destroy a small town and end the lives of every prisoner and employee in that correctional facility. Maybe he doesn’t deserve my trust.

  “It wasn’t the aliens. That kaiju belongs to another player.” I don’t know what good the information will do her, but knowing is better than not.