Ryder looked at her. He'd gotten good at reading people, during his various stints in the desert--most of the ones he killed met were weak, weak and pathetic creatures who would grovel rather than put up a fight. This kid wasn't that kind--she had the same kind of determination about her that Halsey had, come the finish, but without any of Halsey's half-baked insanity. It was the kind of thing he could actually respect.

"Sure," he said, handing it to her with a crooked smile. "You know how to use it?"