“Mary, I don’t want to see it my own self,” Quinn said.
“Are you scared?”
“Pee-less.”
“Me too.” She touched Quinn’s arm. “God bless you.”
“Yeah. Let’s hope so, huh?” He wanted to stay and talk to her. Anything to avoid climbing up on the roof with a machine gun. But Mary had her duty, and he had his. He was ashamed to realize that he yearned to go into that day care room and just hide in there with Mary.
He went through the day care to the alleyway in back. He slung the machine pistol carefully and climbed the rickety aluminum ladder.
The day care and the hardware shared a roof. It was flat, gravel and tar, adorned only by several vertical pipes and two ancient air-conditioning units. The roof was encircled by a parapet, a three-foot-high wall topped with cracked Spanish tile.
Quinn went to the corner facing the church and town hall. He watched as Sam and Dekka marched off.
“Don’t screw up today,” Quinn told himself. “Just don’t screw up.”
The ladder rattled, and something blurred over onto the roof. Quinn swung his gun around. The blur resolved itself into the figure of Brianna.
“You have got to stop doing that, Brianna,” Quinn said.
Brianna smiled and said, “The Breeze. My name is the Breeze.”
“You are way too into this,” Quinn grumbled. “I mean, what are you, ten?”
“I’m eleven. I’ll be twelve in a month.” Brianna pulled a claw hammer from her belt and brandished it. “Caine and Drake had me starving to death with a cinder block on each hand. I wasn’t too young for Caine and Drake to almost kill me.”
“Yeah.” Quinn wished she would go away and leave him in peace, but it was her assignment to move between Quinn and Edilio and Sam and anyone else, carrying messages. “So. How fast can you go, Brianna?”
“I don’t know. Fast enough that people almost can’t see me.”
“Doesn’t it kind of wear you out?”
“Not really. But it kind of tears up my shoes.” She raised one foot to show him a worn sole on her sneakers. “And I have to keep my hair in pigtails or it whips around and stings my eyes.” She gave her braided pigtails a toss.
“Must be weird. Having powers.”
“You don’t have any?”
He shook his head. “No. Nothing. I’m just…me.”
“You know Sam real well, right?”
He nodded. It was a question he got a lot from Coates kids.
“Do you think he’ll win?” she asked.
“Guess we better hope so, huh?”
Brianna looked at her hands, the hands that had been imprisoned in concrete. “That’s why it doesn’t matter that I’m just eleven: we have to win.”
Sam fought a sense of doom as he walked with Dekka toward the school. He wasn’t afraid of getting hurt, mostly; after all, he expected to end the day by poofing, and then…well, he didn’t know what.
The dread was fear of failure. Whatever happened to him, he had Astrid to think about. And Little Pete, because Astrid would be shattered if anything happened to Little Pete. Not to mention the fact that Little Pete might be the only one in all of existence who could end the FAYZ.
He had to beat Caine for her. For them. For all of them, all the kids. And that weighed him down like he was carrying an elephant on his back.
He had to win. Had to make sure Astrid was safe. Then he could blink out if that had to be.
But the closer he got, the more he doubted his decision. He was deviating from the plan, which meant no one would really know what role they were supposed to play. Caine going to the school had thrown everything off.
They stopped a block from the edge of the school grounds. Sam keyed the walkie-talkie.
“Has anything changed?”
“No,” Astrid said. “The cars are parked. Panda is by the front door. The light’s fading fast, so I can’t be totally sure. Sam?”
“Yeah?”
“I think Panda has a gun.”
“Okay.”
“Be careful.”
“Uh-huh.” He signed off. He wanted to tell her one more time that he loved her, but that seemed almost like tempting fate. He was already thinking too much about Astrid and not enough about Caine.
“Okay, Dekka, there’s no way to sneak up. I have to be within sight before I take Panda down.”
Dekka nodded. Her mouth was tight, like she couldn’t open it at all. She was breathing hard, tense. Scared.
“I’m going to count to three. On three we go. All out. As soon as I can, I try to nail Panda. You do your thing when we get to the door. Ready?”
She didn’t answer. For what felt like a very long minute she just stared at emptiness. Then at last she croaked, “I’m ready.”
“One. Two. Three.”
They burst from cover and started running, flat out. They closed the distance to the edge of the school grounds and were pounding across the turf before Panda spotted them and yelped.
“Don’t do it, Panda,” Sam warned, yelling as loud as he could while running.
Panda hesitated, hefting the gun, not quite raising it to fire.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” Sam shouted.
Fifty feet away.
Panda aimed and fired.
The bullet flew wide.
Panda gaped at the weapon like he was seeing it for the first time.
“No,” Sam yelled.
“Are you scared?”
“Pee-less.”
“Me too.” She touched Quinn’s arm. “God bless you.”
“Yeah. Let’s hope so, huh?” He wanted to stay and talk to her. Anything to avoid climbing up on the roof with a machine gun. But Mary had her duty, and he had his. He was ashamed to realize that he yearned to go into that day care room and just hide in there with Mary.
He went through the day care to the alleyway in back. He slung the machine pistol carefully and climbed the rickety aluminum ladder.
The day care and the hardware shared a roof. It was flat, gravel and tar, adorned only by several vertical pipes and two ancient air-conditioning units. The roof was encircled by a parapet, a three-foot-high wall topped with cracked Spanish tile.
Quinn went to the corner facing the church and town hall. He watched as Sam and Dekka marched off.
“Don’t screw up today,” Quinn told himself. “Just don’t screw up.”
The ladder rattled, and something blurred over onto the roof. Quinn swung his gun around. The blur resolved itself into the figure of Brianna.
“You have got to stop doing that, Brianna,” Quinn said.
Brianna smiled and said, “The Breeze. My name is the Breeze.”
“You are way too into this,” Quinn grumbled. “I mean, what are you, ten?”
“I’m eleven. I’ll be twelve in a month.” Brianna pulled a claw hammer from her belt and brandished it. “Caine and Drake had me starving to death with a cinder block on each hand. I wasn’t too young for Caine and Drake to almost kill me.”
“Yeah.” Quinn wished she would go away and leave him in peace, but it was her assignment to move between Quinn and Edilio and Sam and anyone else, carrying messages. “So. How fast can you go, Brianna?”
“I don’t know. Fast enough that people almost can’t see me.”
“Doesn’t it kind of wear you out?”
“Not really. But it kind of tears up my shoes.” She raised one foot to show him a worn sole on her sneakers. “And I have to keep my hair in pigtails or it whips around and stings my eyes.” She gave her braided pigtails a toss.
“Must be weird. Having powers.”
“You don’t have any?”
He shook his head. “No. Nothing. I’m just…me.”
“You know Sam real well, right?”
He nodded. It was a question he got a lot from Coates kids.
“Do you think he’ll win?” she asked.
“Guess we better hope so, huh?”
Brianna looked at her hands, the hands that had been imprisoned in concrete. “That’s why it doesn’t matter that I’m just eleven: we have to win.”
Sam fought a sense of doom as he walked with Dekka toward the school. He wasn’t afraid of getting hurt, mostly; after all, he expected to end the day by poofing, and then…well, he didn’t know what.
The dread was fear of failure. Whatever happened to him, he had Astrid to think about. And Little Pete, because Astrid would be shattered if anything happened to Little Pete. Not to mention the fact that Little Pete might be the only one in all of existence who could end the FAYZ.
He had to beat Caine for her. For them. For all of them, all the kids. And that weighed him down like he was carrying an elephant on his back.
He had to win. Had to make sure Astrid was safe. Then he could blink out if that had to be.
But the closer he got, the more he doubted his decision. He was deviating from the plan, which meant no one would really know what role they were supposed to play. Caine going to the school had thrown everything off.
They stopped a block from the edge of the school grounds. Sam keyed the walkie-talkie.
“Has anything changed?”
“No,” Astrid said. “The cars are parked. Panda is by the front door. The light’s fading fast, so I can’t be totally sure. Sam?”
“Yeah?”
“I think Panda has a gun.”
“Okay.”
“Be careful.”
“Uh-huh.” He signed off. He wanted to tell her one more time that he loved her, but that seemed almost like tempting fate. He was already thinking too much about Astrid and not enough about Caine.
“Okay, Dekka, there’s no way to sneak up. I have to be within sight before I take Panda down.”
Dekka nodded. Her mouth was tight, like she couldn’t open it at all. She was breathing hard, tense. Scared.
“I’m going to count to three. On three we go. All out. As soon as I can, I try to nail Panda. You do your thing when we get to the door. Ready?”
She didn’t answer. For what felt like a very long minute she just stared at emptiness. Then at last she croaked, “I’m ready.”
“One. Two. Three.”
They burst from cover and started running, flat out. They closed the distance to the edge of the school grounds and were pounding across the turf before Panda spotted them and yelped.
“Don’t do it, Panda,” Sam warned, yelling as loud as he could while running.
Panda hesitated, hefting the gun, not quite raising it to fire.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” Sam shouted.
Fifty feet away.
Panda aimed and fired.
The bullet flew wide.
Panda gaped at the weapon like he was seeing it for the first time.
“No,” Sam yelled.
