The semitruck’s horn blew once, quick and severe.

A beat of silence and then a second blast. I lifted my hands, fingers spread, ready to go.

Nick hit the horn a third time, held it down so that it blared out like a siren across the lot, and we flew into action, stabbing the prongs of the three master power strips, each completely loaded with six more power strips, into the outlet.

The sea of light unfurled.

The calm night filled with sound, began to roar, with fans and vacuums and KitchenAid mixers, ten-foot-tall pumpkin inflatables and antique neon bar signs and static-filled TVs, old boom boxes with cassette tapes still in them and hair dryers and clippers, and alarm clocks and electric knives like the one Mom used to insist on—badly—carving our Thanksgiving turkey with.

So much power, but it wasn’t enough.

Soon the helicopters would be back. They’d see us here. Actually catch us—and then there was Remy, what must already be happening to him with every minute that passed—

We’d lose whatever tiny edge we imagined we had.

The quiver of energy began in my chest, rising to meet my anxiety, offering itself to me. Here, it seemed to say. I have what you need.

I closed my eyes.

I had to be careful. In control. I couldn’t lose it all or there’d be no way to get Remy out. Just a little bit. A tiny bit.

The energy in me was buzzing, thundering, a tremor all through my veins. I felt it curl down the lengths of my arms, extend through my fingertips like rapidly growing claws.

A tiny bit, I told myself as I released it. Just the smallest—

* * *

*

Darkness, whole, absolute.

Silence. As if I were trapped beneath tons of water.

A voice broke through it. “—DID SHE—”

The darkness shuddered, cracked.

Flickering light passed overhead. Color, almost. Dim, gray. Vibration beneath, around. Warmth and another voice. “—on. Wake—”

The darkness reared up, crashed over everything. Nothing but solid black. Nothing, I was nothing. Bodiless, floating like a—

It pulled back and I saw dark clouds were swirling ahead, on the far side of glass. Rain splattering. Windshield wipers squealing.

Nothing. There was nothing. A feeling cooler and darker than sleep.

“—ODDAMMIT, FRANNY, WAKE U—”

Absolute darkness. Aloneness.

Pain flaring through me. Metal in my mouth. Water in my throat. My eyes flew open as I coughed. Hands passed over my back, pushing me up to sitting.

Hands patting my shoulders roughly as I coughed, the tangy, thick liquid spilling out of my mouth and into my lap. My body ached. I tried to stretch but my feet met resistance. Window, I thought dimly.

Dark fields and telephone poles whipping past below my shoes. Wherever I was, I was moving. To my left were two shadowed bodies, kneeling. Two shadowed faces.

Moonlight hit them in ripples, lighting them up in ghostly blue. Arthur and Sofía.

“You shouldn’t have done that.” Arthur’s voice came out scratchy, like he’d been screaming. I tried to stand, but Sofía’s hands pressed me back down by the shoulders. I was vibrating. Everything was vibrating.

Another voice came from over Sofía’s shoulder. “We thought you were dead,” Nick said, and threw a look over his shoulder.

Finally the pieces came together. I was lying on the mattress in the cab of the semi, just behind the seats, where Nick and Levi were sitting. Droog curled up on the floor between them. Thin strands of rain rushed up the windshield as we sped down Old Crow Station Lane, and wind batted at the sides of the truck with so much force that Nick had to keep jerking the wheel to the right to keep from wandering into the other lane.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Arthur said again.

He was right; I felt like Nick had driven the truck over me, then backed it up to do it again.

Sofía laid her cheek in my lap and wound her arms around my waist. I wrapped my arms around her, giving an approximation of a hug, and when my hands came away, dark prints stayed behind on her white T-shirt.

Blood. That was what I’d coughed up. I could taste it now. I cleared my throat. “Did it work?”

Nick laughed in the front seat. “Oh, it worked.”

I crawled toward the window, peering out at the houses flying past. Dark. Every window, every porch light. But then again, it was the middle of the night. Later than the middle of the night, possibly. I glanced toward the dashboard clock.

“4:22,” I read aloud.

“Yeah, sorry,” Levi said softly. “We tried to get you up in time for 4:20, but—” He winced as Nick’s hand flew out and smacked the back of his head.

“It’s out,” Arthur confirmed. “Everything’s out from Walmart to here, and maybe farther.”

I pushed my sweatshirt sleeve up, searching for the web of scars. “No,” I choked out. No, no, no, no.

Gone. It was gone. My head spun. I pitched sideways and Sofía caught me, pushing me upright. I hunched over my knees and gripped the sides of my face in my hands. “No,” I managed. Tears mixed with the blood in my throat. I wanted to hit something, to throw sparks in every direction, but I couldn’t.

My arm was smooth and blemishless, my body was wrecked, and whatever part of Molly I’d had was gone.