Present Day, Idaho, The Central States

I should have read the letter. God dammit, Kaysa, why are you so scared of the past?

Pulsar blasts scattered sparks like fireworks over Kaysa’s head. They rained scalding grains of plasma into her hiding place behind the rolling dumpster. White-hot beads singed her clothes and sizzled on her hair. The smell of trash and burned hair might have been enough to make her wretch if her blood hadn’t been flooded with adrenaline. And the stress was aggravating Laura’s twitch.

“Just hold on. We’ll make it through this.” Kaysa did that thing she did, her right dimple tensing as she spoke words she didn’t fully believe.

“Yeah.” Laura’s voice shook. It was hollow. Her wounded arm draped over her knees. Her good one gripped the opposite shoulder while she rocked against the brick wall. Blood seeped from under her fingers, rolling over her wet clothes and into her armpit.

A pale-yellow light emanated from Laura; it was the aura of fear. Kaysa winced at the sight. A yellow aura wasn't going to help them get out of this. Fear and worry would only slow them down.

Kaysa raised her head above the dumpster, just high enough to see the shooters. Two men aimed from behind machinery on the left. One pointed his pulsar from behind a corner on the right. Their dark red auras phased from beyond their hiding places. Red meant murder. Their furious hearts were fixed on Kaysa’s death. There was no mistaking it.

God dammit. Kaysa glanced at her friend, then back to the fight. Control. I need to keep control.

Kaysa lifted her balled-up left hand to eye level. As her fingers unfolded, a haze of orange and pink energy billowed from her palm. It spread into a round disk and paused, hovering in front of her like a shield of sparkling, translucent light.

The air burned as a pulsar blast punched into Kaysa’s shield. The blue bolt flattened and rolled along the saucer in a web of impotent energy, then faded into nothingness.

Kaysa’s right fist rose. Her fingers unrolled. Her eyes sparkled orange and pink as a ball of doom zapped into existence in front of her palm. The King’s men would not take her. They were not going to take Laura. All she had wanted was to be goddamn left alone. Her doom wobbled and popped before discharging a stream of blinding energy toward the gunmen.