‘We’re the ones who rescued the people off Alcatraz,’ Dee shouts. He acts as if there are hundreds of people here. ‘You’ve heard of that, right? Those same boats are coming here. When they arrive, do what you can to help. It’s the nice thing to do.’

‘If you’re not inclined to do the nice thing,’ says Dum, ‘then meet us at Bay Bridge. Let’s show the angels what we’re made of!’

I look around and see that there are more people here than I realized. Small movements of clothes, hats, bags, and weapons shift all around us in the trees, the cars, and the wreckage of ships washed up on shore.

People are hiding nearby, listening, watching, ready to disappear at the slightest sign. A few yell questions out to us from their hiding places.

‘Is it true that the dead are rising?’

‘Are there really demon monsters coming after us?’

I answer the questions as best I can.

‘Are you Penryn?’ someone yells from behind some trees. ‘Are you really an angel killer?’

‘Hell, yeah!’ says Dum. ‘Come see for yourself tonight. You too can be an angel killer.’

Dum nods his head toward the car. ‘Go on,’ he says to us. ‘I’ll spread the gospel about the talent show here and catch up.’

Dee grins. ‘Do you have any idea what the betting pool will be like tonight?’

‘It’s gonna be epic,’ says Dum as he struts into the crowd.

I follow Dee back into the car. The woman from Apple and the Colonel stay to oversee the evacuation while the rest of us go to the Bay Bridge to prepare for battle.

‘What are the chances that our men just grabbed the boats and took off?’ I ask. My stomach turns at the thought as we drive through the city.

‘I’m guessing at least half of them will do us right. We picked guys who had family among this crowd.’ He nods at the people standing by the water where Dum is already circulating in the crowd, getting the word out about the talent show.

‘By random luck,’ says Dee as he drives around a fallen electrical pole, ‘we happen to have stowed away the grand prize on the other side of the Golden Gate.’

‘What grand prize?’

‘For the talent show.’

‘Duh,’ says Sanjay in a good impression of Dum.

‘We wanted it away from people who knew about it,’ says Dee. ‘But in the end, we couldn’t have planned it any better if we had known what was about to go down.’

‘What’s the grand prize?’

‘You haven’t heard?’ says Dee.

‘It’s an RV,’ says Sanjay, sounding bored.

‘What?’ Dee glares at Sanjay through his rearview mirror. ‘It’s not just an RV. It’s a custom-made, bulletproof, luxury recreational vehicle. And that doesn’t even describe it all.’

I raise my eyebrows and try to look interested.

‘Fear not, my little padawan. You will understand the awesomeness of the Tweedle Twins when the time comes.’

‘Whatever it is, I’m sure it’ll at least be entertaining.’ This time, rather than sounding like Obi, I sound like a patient mom. I crinkle my nose at that.

Dee holds up a set of keys. ‘Of course, the winner has to survive the talent show and then tear the keys out of my cold dead hands.’ He grips the keys and makes them disappear.

‘But there’s no doubt it’ll be worth it,’ I say.

‘See?’ says Dee. ‘That’s why she’s the leader. The girl knows what she’s talking about.’

But I don’t. When we reach the East Bay Bridge, there’s nobody there.

My shoulders sink as I see the abandoned streets and empty waters. My announcement is looping throughout the peninsula, and everyone who was at the Resistance camp knows to come here if they’re willing to fight. I didn’t expect a large group, but I’m devastated that no one has shown.

‘No time to stand around,’ says Dee as he gets out of the car. ‘The guys have already started dropping off the supplies.’

I look to where he points. There’s a pile of lumber waiting by the water. ‘And that must be our ride now.’

Dee nods at a ferry moving our way. It used to be white once upon a time, but it looks like someone threw dark paint all over it to try to camouflage it.

‘Well, at least there will be four of us in the fight.’ I try to sound extra cheery.

‘Three,’ says Sanjay. ‘I’m just here as the expert. Guys like me, we’re lovers, not fighters.’

‘You’re a fighter now,’ I say, pulling him toward the water.

By two o’clock, Dum comes back with a smug grin, strutting like he just accomplished something big. There are also enough people now who have come out of the woodwork for us to have a real working crew. Lumber, hammers and nails, stereo equipment, and lighting are all being ferried and put together on the island chunk of the Bay Bridge that we’ve selected for our final stand.

By three o’clock, the first gangs roll up to the shore. By this time, there is a respectable number of refugees and freedom fighters. We’ve collected some of Obi’s old citizen soldiers who heard our announcement.

‘Better to go out like a man than run like a cockroach,’ says one bearded guy leading a bunch of others with gang tattoos as he struts into the group.

If the other survivors weren’t already scared, they’d be at least a little afraid now. These are the guys the rest of us avoided on the streets.