The inner gate opened, admitting a woman with hair shorn short, and a still sore tattoo on her forehead.
“We’re up to eighty already?” Katya’s loud voice made the newcomer flinch.
“Yeah. Rats got the last five,” Rani drawled back.
Their number eighty straightened, recognising the game for what it was.
Sun in her back, Rani approached her. “All right, Eighty, here’s the rules. You do what you’re told, you guard the Rift, and you’ll live a while yet. Look for Seventeen, she’ll show you the ropes. Understood?”
“Yes.”
Her voice was firm. Maybe she’d last more than a day.