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registered.
     
    My shaking hand released the stuck machete, and I walked over to the table where he’d laid my baton. I picked it up, slapped it against my hand, imitating the earlier motions of Mr. Chuckles—aka Mr. Sporting A New Necklace. I kicked Mr. Creeps in his broken knee and he screamed, then silenced him with a blow from the baton.
     
    Make that two blows.
     
    My chest and breath rumbled with adrenaline and fear, and I closed my eyes for a moment against the sensation.
     
    Then I heard a deep rumbling voice from the front door. I pulled the baton to my forearm. Standing there was huge black guy decked out in camouflage and a vest full of other various Army-looking gear. He was holding a rifle pointed down at the floor.
     
    "Holy ... damn, girl, that was good!"

Chapter 5
    —————
     
    Joe
     
     
    I let go of my gun and let it dangle, and held up my hands. "It's alright," I said, "I'm not with this trash." I gestured at the mess she'd left on the floor. One guy was definitely dead, a damn tree trimming machete in his neck. The and other guy had blood pooling around his head. 
     
    Probably dead, too.
     
    "I saw them take you in and I was coming to help … though clearly you didn't need any."
     
    Five minutes ago, I was coming out of my house after having dressed in my ACU’s and utility vest. I packed up an ALICE and opened my gun safe, getting my SCAR and loading up on ammo.
     
    I knew we'd been hit by an EMP. With this one they’d even call up the reserves, I figured, so I should try to make it to the recruit depot at San Diego Bay and see if they had anything for an old dope on a rope.
     
    I didn't figure on witnessing an assault right on my own street.
     
    I'd seen the girl go by as I was about to head out, though I didn't know it was a girl at the time. I just saw the back of her go by, and hey, who am I to judge if a guy wears a Frozen backpack?
     
    I saw the two rednecks down the block march her into their dilapidated house though.
     
    Already it was starting to get crazy.
     
    "So I snuck down, keeping out of sight of their windows, and worked my way to opening the door when I heard the yelling." Again, I gestured to the scene. "And here you are, not needing any help at all."
     
    She stood without moving, like a cobra about to strike. No, she was small—more like a fer-de-lance, tiny and deadly. She didn't weigh in at more than a hundred pounds or so.
     
    "My name is Joe,” I added. Slowly, and with exacting movements, she bent down and picked up a tool belt and snapped it on, then put the baton in a holder. She bent over the big one on the floor and pulled out the machete, making a crackling sound. She wiped it on the dead guy's shirt, never taking her eyes off of me. Then she stood up.
     
    "Erin," she said simply. "And thank you."
     
    "Hellfire, girl, I didn't do squat. I don't know that I could have taken down those guys." 
     
    I could have taken them, but I couldn't help trying to charm the little girl a bit, try to make myself less threatening.
     
    "Yeah right, Mr. Camo," she said, clearly not believing me.
     
    I gave a low chuckle, and she looked up sharply at me. 
     
    "Don't do that," she said seriously. She nodded her head toward the hacked-up guy. "Mr. Chuckles here did that a lot."
     
    "You bet."
     
    I stood there watching her as she geared up again, putting back the contents of her pack and getting ready to lift the other bag.
     
    "Listen," I said, "I have plenty of good backpacks without crappy movies on them. You can have one of them."
     
    She smiled at me, and it was like the sun shining in a dark cave. "You don't like Frozen either?"
     
    "Took my nieces to see it," he said. "How many fu—freakin' songs about ... freakin' snow and ice are there, anyway? I wanted to shove Milk Duds in my ears."
     
    Another big smile. "Yeah, it was the worst ever." She looked thoughtful. "Sure, but I have one rule."
     
    I smiled, wondering what I was getting myself