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There were plenty of men called that in Boulder Town’s slums. Those without names usually took one when joining a gang, Dagger, Cleaver, Axe, and so on.
The officer frowned, noticing the wrinkled scar tissue on his arm.
Members of the Dagger Gang tattooed daggers on their forearms as a symbol. Other gangs had similar marks, and that was how the New Alliance had identified many of them.
Later, when they were sent to the camp, the overseers forced them to burn or sand their tattoos off, but the scars remained.
The officer could already guess who the man had been, but said nothing.
“From today onward, your name is Bit. You’ll be in charge of these hundred or so men.”
Glancing at the time on his wristwatch, the officer continued, “Before lights out tonight, give me a full count of who’s staying.”
Bit let out a quiet breath of relief, noted his new name, and gave a sharp salute.
“Yes, sir!”
…
With just two weeks remaining before the Tide, preparations for war had entered their final phase.
Large quantities of military supplies poured into Dawn City by rail,...
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