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BLAM!
The second soldier turned and ran. He threw his gun down and ran.
More voices yelling in fear and confusion. Gunfire. Here. There. Wild blasting, everyone who could, explosions of light in the dark.
“Cease fire!” Hank yelled.
The firing continued. But it was all coming from Zil’s own side now.
“Knock it off!” Zil shouted.
The explosions stopped.
Zil’s ears rang. From far off a pitiful voice cried. Cried like a baby.
For a long moment no one said or did anything. The boy who lay on his back made no sound. Zil did not take a closer look.
“Okay, follow the plan,” Hank said, as calmly as if all this was just a video game he’d put on pause.
Kids who had been tasked with bringing bottles began to unload them. Lance went to the hand-pump that brought gasoline up from the underground storage. He began to work it and fill glass bottles held by shaking hands.
“I can’t believe it,” someone said.
“We did it!” one exulted.
“Not yet,” Zil growled. “But it’s beginning.”
Hank said, “Remember: Stuff the rags far down into the bottle like I told you. And keep your lighters dry.”
They found a wheelbarrow in the weeds behind the station. It didn’t roll very well—the wheel was lopsided—but it worked to hold the bottles.
The smell of gasoline was thick in Zil’s throat. He was stressing, waiting for the counterattack. Waiting to see Sam striding up, hands blazing.
That would end it all.
But no matter how hard he peered into the black night, Zil did not see the one freak who would stop him.
Little Pete made a grunting sound as he pushed the buttons and worked the trackpad of his handheld.
Sam sat silent, withdrawn. He had said nothing since Taylor had hauled him through the door and woken Astrid from a fretful sleep.
It was stupid, Astrid realized, not talking to Sam. When Taylor had awakened her, she’d imagined somehow, in her sleepy confusion, that Sam had come running back, all forgiven.
But then Taylor had said she’d be back with the rest of the council and Astrid knew something had gone wrong.
Now they were all there. Well, most of them. Word was Dekka was sick with whatever was going around. But Albert was there, and really, Astrid admitted to herself, so long as Albert and Astrid were there, the important members of the council were present.
Unfortunately, Howard had also come. No one wanted to drag John out into the night. He could hear about it all later.
They had enough. Astrid, Albert, Howard, and Sam. Five out of seven. And, Astrid couldn’t help but note, any vote would be more likely to go in her favor.
They were at the table beneath an eerie Sammy Sun.
“Okay, Taylor, since Sam doesn’t exactly seem talkative,” Astrid said, “why are we all here?”
“A kid got murdered tonight,” Taylor said.
A hundred que
