Nerezza’s hand closed on the crowbar, but she couldn’t reach behind herself to get Astrid. She stabbed blindly with the edged end of the tool, grazing Astrid’s forehead, but not dislodging her.

Astrid wrapped her fingers around Nerezza’s throat and squeezed, now releasing the ear, spitting something squirmy out of her mouth, and put all her strength into squeezing Nerezza’s windpipe.

She felt the pulse in Nerezza’s neck.

And she squeezed.

THIRTY-EIGHT

32 MINUTES

SANJIT AND VIRTUE carried Bowie on a makeshift stretcher that was nothing but a sheet stretched between them.

“What are we doing?” Peace asked, twisting her hands together anxiously.

“We are fleeing,” Sanjit said.

“What’s that?”

“Fleeing? Oh, it’s something I’ve done a few times in my life,” Sanjit said. “It’s all about fighting or fleeing. You don’t want to fight, do you?”

“I’m scared,” Peace moaned.

“No reason to be scared,” Sanjit said as he struggled to hold the sheet ends in his fingers while walking backward toward the cliff. “Look at Choo. He doesn’t look scared, does he?”

Actually Virtue looked scared to death. But Sanjit didn’t need Peace losing her head. The scary part was still ahead. Scary had only just begun.

“No?” Peace said doubtfully.

“Are we running away?” Pixie asked. She had a plastic bag of Legos in her hand, no idea why, but she seemed determined to hold onto them.

“Well, we’re hoping to fly away, actually,” Sanjit said brightly.

“We’re going on the helichopper?” Pixie asked.

Sanjit exchanged a look with Virtue, who was struggling along much like Sanjit, legs wobbly, feet tripping in the long grass.

“Why are we running?” Bowie moaned.

“He’s awake,” Sanjit said.

“You think?” Virtue snapped between gasps for air.

“How do you feel, little dude?” Sanjit asked him.

“My head hurts,” Bowie said. “And I want some water.”

“Good timing,” Sanjit muttered.

They had reached the edge of the cliff. The rope was still where he and Virtue had left it the other day. “Okay, Choo, you go down first. I’ll lower the kids down to you one by one.”

“I’m scared,” Peace said.

Sanjit lowered Bowie to the ground and flexed his cramped fingers. “Okay, listen up, all of you.”

They did. Somewhat to Sanjit’s surprise. “Listen: we’re all scared, okay? So no one needs to keep reminding me. You’re scared, I’m scared, we’re all scared.”

“You’re scared, too?” Peace asked him.

“Peeless,” Sanjit said. “But sometimes life gets tough and scary, okay? We’ve all been scary places before. But here we are, right? We’re all still here.”

“I want to stay here,” Pixie said. “I can’t leave my dolls.”

“We’ll come back for them another time,” Sanjit said.

He knelt down, wasting precious seconds, waiting for the cold-eyed mutant creep Caine to step out of the house any moment. “Kids. We are a family, right? And we stick together, right?”

No one seemed too sure of that.

“And we survive together, right?” Sanjit pressed.

Long silence. Long stares.

“That’s right,” Virtue said at last. “Don’t worry, you guys. It’s going to be okay.”

He almost seemed to believe it.

Sanjit wished he did.

Astrid could feel the arteries and veins and tendons in Nerezza’s neck. She could feel the way the blood hammered trying to reach Nerezza’s brain. The way the muscles twisted.

She felt Nerezza’s windpipe convulsing. Her entire body was jerking now, a wild spasm, organs frantic for oxygen, nerves twitching as Nerezza’s brain sent out frantic panic signals.

Astrid’s hands squeezed. Her fingers dug in, like she was trying to form fists and Nerezza’s neck was just kind of in the way and if she just squeezed hard enough—

“No!” Astrid gasped.

She released. She stood up fast, backed away, stared in horror at Nerezza as the girl choked and sucked air.

They were almost alone in the plaza. Mary had led the littles away at a run, and it had signaled a full-fledged panic that drew almost everyone in her wake. Everyone was pelting toward the beach. Astrid saw their backs as they ran.

And then she saw the unmistakable silhouette that sauntered after them.

He might almost have been anyone, any tall, thin boy. If not for the whip that curled in the air and wrapped caressingly around his body and uncurled to snap and crack.

Drake laughed.

Nerezza sucked air. Little Pete stirred.

Gunfire, a single loud round.

The sun was setting out over the water. A red sunset.

Astrid stepped over Nerezza and turned her brother over. He moaned. His eyes fluttered open. His hand was already reaching for the game player.

Astrid picked it up. It was warm in her hand. A pleasurable sensation tingled her arm.

Astrid grabbed the front of Little Pete’s shirt in her sore fist.

“What is the game, Petey?” she demanded.

She could see his eyes glaze over. The veil that separated Little Pete from the world around him.

“No!” she screamed, her face inches from his. “Not this time. Tell me. Tell me!”