Revelation by Kyle West Page A

life forms, far more deadly than the xenovirus.
    I could see why Jade was called “the Weasel.” Jade was, in short, a weasely man. Though probably in his early thirties, Jade already had lines etched into his face that bore testament to his constant, empty smirk. He was tall, and diamond rings graced all of his fingers. He had three men with him, similarly dressed, some wearing one ring, some two, but all wore diamonds. I wondered if the rings were the Diamonds’ way of establishing rank. No weapons were visible outside their white suits, but I knew they each probably had guns in their jackets. They’d be stupid not to.
    Jade snickered for no reason, and gave no greeting to Makara or any of us. He gave a slight nod to Boss Dragon. Boss Dragon crossed his arms, and looked like he was doing his best to ignore Jade’s presence.
    Jade and the Diamonds said nothing to us, talking only amongst themselves. From time to time, Jade looked at Makara with interest. Even so, he said nothing to her, and Makara said nothing back.
    The next gang arrived about five minutes later. An all-terrain SUV surged from the direction of the Strip, throwing up a giant cloud of dust. As it neared, I could see one man with silvery gray hair, slicked back, standing in the sunroof opening. The man had ice-cold blue eyes. The vehicle pulled to a stop between the Dragons and the Diamonds.
    “Cain,” Michael said. “Lord of the Sworn.”
    Men piled from the vehicle, dressed in dingy military apparel. Cain sunk back into the vehicle from his perch and, shortly after, stepped outside to join his crew. I guessed Cain was probably in his late fifties. He was tall and well-muscled for his age. He had high cheekbones, broad shoulders, and a pale complexion. He stared at Makara, sizing her up. Makara just stared right back. He nodded and smiled, but said nothing, leaning forward with hands on his hips in an aggressive posture. Samuel, Michael, and Char stared him down, their hands not far from their guns. I slowly went for my Beretta as well. Somehow, Cain had a very dangerous air. Even Jade seemed nervous looking at him, touching the diamonds on his fingers, as if to draw some imaginary comfort from them. Boss Dragon watched Cain warily, saying nothing.
    It was a while before anyone else arrived. The gang members talked amongst themselves, impatient. The two most powerful gangs, the Suns and the Kings, were absent. And of the Reds, there was no sign. They lived outside city limits, so it could be a while before they showed up.
    Then, a cloud of dust formed in the east, at the end of a long runway. It was from the opposite end of the Strip. I supposed this to be the Reds, since the other gangs had their headquarters on Las Vegas Boulevard. It would make sense for them to approach from this direction. As the dust cloud approached, I saw that it was a train of motorcycles. Was it the Exiles? Marcus must have somehow figured out we were here, and was now coming to join the deliberations. That would have been fine with any of the New Angels, but we were only allowed a certain number of people. If Marcus and the Exiles joined us, it would give us an unfair advantage, which would destroy the trust we were trying to cultivate with these gangs.
    As the bikes neared, though, I saw that it was not Marcus and the Exiles. The vehicles were too lightweight, built for the speed of city streets rather than the harsh terrain of the Wasteland. The bikes were decked out in flashy colors of red, yellow, orange, and purple. Their collective high whine intensified as they drew close.
    Then, the bikes circled around us, buzzing and humming like angry insects – or angry xenolife. As the dust rose, Cain shook his head, annoyed, while Jade’s face reddened with anger. Boss Dragon’s face was stoic, while Makara stood fast, betraying no emotion. I did my best to mirror her example.
    Finally, the motorcycles pulled to a stop, between the Dragons and the Sworn. The lead man, who