Just Out of Jupiter's Reach (The Far Reaches, #5)

by Nnedi Okorafor

Always the threat of losing what we were owed. Typical capitalism.

of them, all six men. As I ran from bush to bush. To save my family. I made every bullet I fired find its target. I was shooting to kill. My mind was clear, yet simultaneously clouded with fear and chaos. Three of those men died. “When it was all said and done, the police arrived and took their report. My father had to insist three times—at our house, at the police station, and to reporters—that it was me who saved the family, a ten-year-old girl. “When we were finally back home and alone in the house, we were all stunned, shell-shocked. Later that night, my father took me outside for a walk. It’s funny—neither of us was afraid to be outside, even after that. People peeked out of windows and doorways, but they left us alone to walk. “‘Are you all right, daughter?’ my father asked. “‘No,’ I said. He nodded and we walked in silence for a while longer. “‘You are amazing. You saved your family. You are chief. I could not be prouder of you. At ten years old, you have amazed me more than a child usually amazes his parents in ten decades!’ He took me by the shoulders. ‘You were our tornado tonight. Beautiful, swift, lethal, a force of nature.’ He hugged me. ‘Thank you, daughter. Thank you.’ “Ever since, I’ve been Tornado. First, my dad started calling me that. Then my mother. Then my brothers. Then the entire village. Then the media, after