Chapter 3. Sasha. The drone gun rotated on its axis and brought a new, slightly different

chunk of cityscape into view. The world was a dull gray-green color through the lens of the

weapons camera. Once again, there were no humans in sight. That was the norm, but Sasha still

logged in for her scheduled

gun time every day. Her parents would have been mortified if they'd known how she was spending

her few hours of free time. But she had a good VPN, or at least it was good enough to hide her

activity from her non-tech savvy elders. She doubted they'd ever suspect her of something like this. Sasha was a good

student. Her grades guaranteed her admission to the American University in D.C. At one point,

she'd had a shot at being her high school's valedictorian, and maybe of gaining admission to

Stanford. But then she'd discovered the true gospel and given herself to Christ.

Her grades were still good, but probably not good enough to earn her an educational visa to the California Republic.

The extra time the old her had dedicated to school was now spent glued to a gun cam,

browsing live feeds from various Christian militias and reading everything she could from the few pastors brave enough

to preach the word. The new her didn't want to go to school near San Francisco, capital of what

Pastor Mike had called, the world's most sinful nation. Sasha didn't even really want to go to

college in D.C. What was the point? Sash, her dad called from the kitchen.

Dinner's on.

Cheese and chiladas!

There was still nothing in her line of sight.

For the 11th month in a row, she was spending 65 Amfed dollars for the privilege of staring through a camera at nothing for a half hour a day.

Sasha had been warned about this when she'd signed up to support the Woodlands Martyrs

Brigade. Their drone guns didn't see much action. The front had been warned about this when she'd signed up to support the Woodlands Martyrs Brigade.

...