“Like who?”

“The police. The government. I don’t know.” I glance at Luka and Tyrone for help.

“Who’d believe us without proof?” Luka asks. “And, trust me, the game won’t let us bring out proof.”

“How do you know?”

“Been there, tried that. Brought my weapon back once. Shoved it in my pocket to make sure it came with me. Only, it disappeared at some point during the respawn. Took pics with my phone. When I got back, there were no pics.”

“You mean they didn’t turn out?”

“I mean there was nothing there. Like I’d never taken any. And before you ask, I tried more than once. So trust me, trying to tell anyone isn’t an option. If I came to you a week ago and told you I was part of a game that really was fighting off an alien invasion, would you have believed me?”

He has a point.

Jackson tosses a glow stick to Tyrone. Then he turns back to me, offers an easy shrug, and says, “We’re it, Miki. We’re the defenders. Don’t you get that?”

I’m starting to, and I can’t say I like it.

“We and the other teams,” I say, and glance at Luka to see if he’s surprised to hear that. He isn’t. So he does know there are others even if he can’t see them.

Jackson tosses another glow stick to Luka. They snap the sticks, then attach them to their harnesses so their hands are free. I wait, but Jackson doesn’t offer a light to me. “Forget someone?” I hiss.

“You ever been caving?”

I shake my head.

“It’s disorienting. There’s no horizon line, and we won’t always be walking on the horizontal. The more lights there are, the more shadows are cast, and that can get confusing. Besides, I don’t want you wandering off and getting lost. If you’re relying on my light, you aren’t going anywhere.”

“That is pure condescending bullshit. Having my own light source would be less confusing, not more.” I glance at Luka. He frowns and shakes his head. I’m guessing he doesn’t like this any more than I do, but he’s not the one in charge. I turn back to Jackson. “What happened to every man for himself?”

“I’m bending the rules,” he says.

I roll my eyes. “What if I get separated from you?”

“Don’t.”

He moves forward and I stay close at his back, not wanting to fall outside the circle of light. I’m not afraid of the dark and I’m not claustrophobic, but this experience just might make me both. After a few minutes, Jackson reaches back and grabs hold of my hand. His fingers are warm; mine are like ice. I want to hold on tight and never let go, which is precisely why I pull my hand away.

“Why the glow sticks?” I ask. “Why not those helmet-mounted lights you see on TV?”

“We don’t have helmets.”

Good point. “But why the glow sticks?” It really doesn’t matter, but I need to know. I need explanations. Control. Information means I rely less on others and more on myself. Because in the end, that’s all anyone has.

“These don’t need backup batteries. They last as long as we need them to last. If we relied on human technology, we’d eventually run out of juice and end up in the dark.” He snaps his glow stick and we’re plunged into pitch black. I gasp and freeze, then Luka comes up behind me and his light catches me in the edge of its circle.

Jackson snaps his light back on. To my surprise, he takes it off his holster and attaches it to mine. “Better?”

“Yes.” It is better. “Why didn’t you just give me a light in the first place?” I’m both angry that he didn’t and grateful that he’s given me one now.

He says softly so only I can hear, “It seemed like a good excuse to keep you close.”

My breath locks in my throat. He can’t mean that the way it sounds. I tell myself he wants me close because I’m still new and he doesn’t want me to mess up. And I try not to look too closely at the reason I don’t want that to be true. Ambivalence—he brings that out in me.

“Why’d you change your mind?”

“It was obviously stressing you out. That isn’t the outcome I was going for.”

I stare at him, completely confused now. I don’t know what to think about him, how to feel. “Are you admitting you made a mistake?”

“Never.” He laughs and just like it did in the park, the sound reaches inside me and flutters around. “Can’t decide if you love me or hate me?” he asks.

“You make it sound like it has to be one of the two. Love. Hate. Those are strong emotions. What makes you think you’re worth either one?” My tone is flippant and I purposely don’t look at him, but I can feel him watching me.

Behind me, Luka snorts, telling me he’s heard every word.

Jackson leans close so only I can hear. “If you’re smart, Miki Jones, you’ll choose hate.”

I roll my eyes. “Why? What’s so terrible about you? I mean, other than the fact that you’re an annoying asshole who’s insanely fond of mixed messages?”

Luka steps between us and asks, “We stopping here for a reason?”

“Call it a whim.” Jackson cracks another glow stick and attaches it to his harness.

I poke at the glow stick on my harness. “So . . . these aren’t human technology?”

“No.”