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We need to talk. Once he spits out all the poison, we’ll get to business.
But suddenly the phones in everyone’s pockets start ringing. Almost all at once.
It’s not the usual ringing. It’s the emergency alert sound.
Dozens of them in the crowd.
Mine in my pocket.
More of them in the distance, like an echo.
Uneasiness sweeps through the crowd as everyone searches for their phones, forgetting about us.
I feel the grip around my arms loosen. Ty and Marlow let go of Droga and dig for their phones.
“What the fuck?” someone murmurs.
I tear my gaze off Droga, who doesn’t charge at me but instead looks around, confused.
“What’s happening?” I ask, wiping my nose with my thumb and turning toward Qi Shan, who raises his eyes off his phone in shock.
“A nuclear bomb,” he whispers.
“What?” I frown, digging in my pocket for my phone.
A collective “Fuuuuck” whispers in the air.
“Holy shit. New York is getting attacked,” someone murmurs.
There is another round of buzzing cut-razor alerts coming from everyone’s phones.
I pull mine out, the screen flashing.
EMERGENCY ALERT.
BALLISTIC MISSILE THREAT INBOUND TO NEW YORK. SEEK IMMEDIATE SHELTER. THIS IS NOT A DRILL.
What…
Half of us go to Deene University, but we are from different cities and parts of the world. Emergency alerts are usually area coded. Not this time. In a second, someone else’s phone buzzes.
“Chicago is under attack,” some guy says in a quiet voice that sounds like a scream.
“London, too.”
“Moscow.”
“Delhi.”
Anna covers her mouth with her palm, muffling a whimper and gaping at me in shock.
Everything goes completely quiet.
The entire island.
It feels like a cemetery.
We frantically stab the dial buttons and press the phones to our ears, but there is nothing, and we gape around in shock, searching for answers.
