farther from them and closer to the small TV. The video was taken at night and the security cameras aren’t exactly made for filming entertainment. But as the scene unfolds and switches angles from different cameras across the airport grounds, we get the general idea of what happened. Security camera footage is shown of the huge swamp buggy crashing through the airport’s gate. Numerous police cars follow but keep a safe distance back once the buggy drives onto the tarmac. I haven’t gotten the whole story yet but I’m suddenly hopeful that it ends with the queens crashing; I can’t imagine any other conclusion to such insanity. Whenever the police get too close, the queens open fire, shooting arrows and hurling spears at the cars. It’s tough to make out specific details of the crazy chase but one of the cop cars hit with an arrow suddenly swerves out of control and crashes into another, sending it rolling across the runway, flipping onto the grass before bursting into flames. I’m appalled by the amount of death and destruction the queens caused but it’s nothing compared to what happens next. The camera switches views and shows the swamp buggy speeding head-on toward an airplane; they look to be playing the world’s unlikeliest game of chicken. At the last second, both vehicles turn. The swamp buggy goes up on two wheels for a moment before steadying itself; I’m surprised nobody in the Queen Clan tumbled over the side of the open-topped vehicle. The plane wasn’t so lucky. It veers onto the open field beside the runway, careening across the grass until finally turning sideways. It tilts onto its side, the wing snapping off before skidding to a stop. “I can’t believe Cassie was so blatant,” I whisper to Amelia and John. “I understand the queens being in the jungle so long that they don’t understand modern technology. But Cassie had to know there’d be cameras and media coverage.” “Do you know those girls?” The woman reporter suddenly stands behind us, apparently overhearing what I said. I turn and look at her, my mouth slightly agape in surprise, my brain unable to come up with an answer. I’m a terrible liar but luckily – or unluckily for me – John is good at lying. “No, we don’t,” he tells her. “Excuse us.” He takes me by the hand and leads Amelia and me closer to the counter. I should be paying attention to the story on TV but I glance back at the familiar reporter. She still watches me and our eyes meet. I feel like she can tell we’re lying and I have a strange urge to talk to her, like she can help us somehow. I finally look away when I hear the TV over noise from the diner crowd. On screen, the buggy skids to a stop near a passenger jet parked beside its terminal. The women easily leap down from the high vehicle and instantly form a protective barrier around Cassie. Only a few police cars are left and pull to a stop, opening fire. One of the Amazons is hit but she doesn’t fall. “According to one of the surviving officers, at least one woman was hit in the firefight but did not seem fazed. Though the women moved with speed and grace, the police assume they were wearing heavy duty body armor to avoid taking serious damage,” explains a female reporter on TV. Though the footage is dark, it’s easy to see a spark of bright blue as the injured queen puts a vial of special water to her lips. A hail of arrows is then fired at the police just off screen and the gunshots come to a sudden halt. “The woman appears to drink some type of liquid, which authorities believe might be a new kind of drug. Emergency response teams were already busy dealing with the other crashes so the band of women faced little opposition as they hijacked the nearby plane. A sky marshal aboard must’ve tried to stop the woman but was ultimately overwhelmed. This scene has aired several times the last few days but we want to remind our sensitive viewers that the following image depicts