[ It's just another kid threatening her, a girl about her own age, but kids can be as dangerous—more—than any adult. Brianna knows this as well as anyone. Maybe before the FAYZ she would've sympathized with this girl, stopped to ask questions, said "Hold up, I'm new here too." Now she moves without even thinking, zipping in a superhuman blur so that she's behind the new arrival and her machete—as clean as she could keep it in the FAYZ, a familiar weight in her hand—is gripped tightly and held at an easy angle to chop through the back of the other girl's legs. She holds it there, steady, watching her own breath puff out in a cloud. She doesn't want to do this, not if she doesn't have to. ]
No, you stop, or I'll chop your legs off. [ Looks like it's gonna be a standoff, pardner. ]
arrival
No, you stop, or I'll chop your legs off. [ Looks like it's gonna be a standoff, pardner. ]