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“Stop it!” Astrid cried.
But Nerezza wasn’t going to stop. And she wasn’t going to be distracted. She was after Little Pete with fanatic focus.
Astrid punched her as hard as she could. Her fist connected with Nerezza’s collar bone, not her face. Not enough to hurt the dark girl, but enough to once again throw off her aim.
Now at last Nerezza turned with icy rage on Astrid.
“Fine. You want to go first?” Nerezza slashed horizontally with the crowbar and hit Astrid in the stomach. Astrid doubled over but rushed at Nerezza, head down like a bull, blinded by pain.
She hit Nerezza squarely and knocked her on her back. The crowbar flew from Nerezza’s grip and landed in the trampled grass.
Nerezza, quick, squirmed to grab it. Astrid punched her in the back of the head. Then again and again, but Nerezza’s hand was nevertheless just inches from the crowbar.
Astrid hauled herself along Nerezza’s back, her weight slowing the girl down. Astrid did all she could think to do: she bit Nerezza’s ear.
Nerezza’s howl of pain was the most satisfying thing Astrid had ever heard.
She clamped her jaw together as hard as she could, yanked her head back and forth, ripping at the ear, tasting blood in her mouth and pounding with her fists at the back of Nerezza’s head.
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.
