“No way!” Hank cried, and the next thing was an explosion so loud, Edilio thought a bomb had gone off. The muzzle flash blinded him, like camera flash going off in his face.
Someone yelled in pain.
Edilio staggered back, squeezed his eyes shut, trying to adjust. When he opened them again the shotgun was on the ground and the boy who’d accidentally fired it was holding his bruised hand, obviously shocked.
Zil bent to grab the gun. Edilio took two steps forward and kicked Zil in the face. As Zil fell back Edilio made a grab for the shotgun. He never saw the blow that turned his knees to water and filled his head with stars.
He fell like a sack of bricks, but even as he fell he lurched forward to cover the shotgun.
Astrid screamed and launched herself down the stairs to protect Edilio.
Antoine, the one who had hit Edilio, was raising his bat to hit Edilio again, but on the back swing he caught Astrid in the face.
Antoine cursed, suddenly fearful. Zil yelled, “No, no, no!”
There was a sudden rush of running feet. Down the walkway, into the street, echoing down the block.
Edilio struggled to stand. It wasn’t easy. His legs did not want to stay where he put them.
Astrid had a hand over one eye but was steadying Edilio with the other.
“You okay?” Astrid asked. “Did he shoot you?”
“I don’t think so.” Edilio patted himself down, searching for but not finding any wounds except for a growing knot on the crown of his head.
His vision cleared enough to notice the red welt where the bat had caught Astrid in the eye. “You’re going to have a shiner.”
“I’m okay,” Astrid said, shaky but strong.
Zil’s mob was gone. Disappeared. It was just the three of them left, Edilio, Astrid, and Hunter.
Edilio picked up the shotgun and cradled it carefully. “I guess that could have been worse. No one got shot.”
Astrid said, “Hunter, go inside and get some ice for Edilio’s head.”
“Yeah. No problem,” Hunter said. He hurried away.
With Hunter out of hearing Astrid said, “What are you going to do?”
“Sam said bring Hunter in.”
“Arrest him?” Astrid asked.
“Yeah, because all of a sudden I’m like the sheriff, too,” Edilio said bitterly, touching the lump on his head. “I must have forgot the day where I signed up for that.”
“Did Hunter really kill Harry?”
Edilio nodded, a movement which sent bright shards of pain stabbing into his brain.
“Yeah. Killed him. Maybe it was an accident like Hunter says, but either way I better take him and keep him in Town Hall.”
Astrid nodded. “Yeah. I’ll talk to him. Make him see it’s the only way.”
The two of them went inside. Hunter was not in the kitchen making ice packs. The sliding glass door to the backyard was open.
Brittney Donegal recoiled from the door when the banging started. Mickey Finch and Mike Farmer were already across the room, back by the plant manager’s office. They were waiting for Brittney to give them some guidance because neither of them had a clue.
Brittney was twelve years old, overweight, with a pimply face adorned by overbearing black horn-rim glasses. She wore sweat pants pulled up too high, and a pink frilly blouse that was at least one size too small. Her indifferent brown hair was yanked to either side in pigtails.
She had braces on her teeth—braces that had not been adjusted in three months. Braces that were accomplishing nothing now, but that she could not figure out how to remove.
Brittney had kind of had a crush on Mike Farmer, but he wasn’t exactly impressing her.
“We gotta get out of here, Britt,” Mike whined.
“Edilio said anything ever happens, we’re supposed to lock this door and sit tight,” Brittney said.
“They got guns,” Mike cried.
Another crashing impact. They all jumped. The door did not budge.
“So do we,” Brittney said.
“Josh is probably already heading back to town, safe, I bet,” Mickey said. “Mike’s right, we have to get away.”
Brittney wanted nothing more than to run away. But she figured she was a soldier. That’s what Edilio had said. Their job was to protect the power plant.
“I know we’re all just kids,” Edilio used to say. “But we may need kids to step up, someday, be more than just kids.”
Brittney had been in the square the day of the big battle. It was Edilio who had killed the coyote that was all over her, snapping at her throat, then seizing her leg in a jaw like a bear trap.
She had no scars from the coyote bite on her leg. The Healer had cured all that. And she had no scar from the bullet that had burned a crease across her upper arm. The Healer had taken all the wounds away. But Brittney’s little brother, Tanner, was one of the kids buried in the plaza.
Edilio had dug his grave with the backhoe.
Brittney had no romantic feelings for Edilio, but what she had went a lot deeper. She would rather burn for eternity in the hottest fires of Hell than let Edilio down.
Brittney had no scars, but she did still have nightmares, and sometimes not when she was asleep. Mike had been there that day, too, hurt worse than her. But it had left Mike scared and timid, while it had left Brittney mad and determined.
“Anyone comes through that door, I’m shooting them,” Brittney said in a loud voice, loud enough that she hoped to be heard by whoever was on the other side.
“Not me, I’m getting out of here,” Mickey said. He turned and ran.
Someone yelled in pain.
Edilio staggered back, squeezed his eyes shut, trying to adjust. When he opened them again the shotgun was on the ground and the boy who’d accidentally fired it was holding his bruised hand, obviously shocked.
Zil bent to grab the gun. Edilio took two steps forward and kicked Zil in the face. As Zil fell back Edilio made a grab for the shotgun. He never saw the blow that turned his knees to water and filled his head with stars.
He fell like a sack of bricks, but even as he fell he lurched forward to cover the shotgun.
Astrid screamed and launched herself down the stairs to protect Edilio.
Antoine, the one who had hit Edilio, was raising his bat to hit Edilio again, but on the back swing he caught Astrid in the face.
Antoine cursed, suddenly fearful. Zil yelled, “No, no, no!”
There was a sudden rush of running feet. Down the walkway, into the street, echoing down the block.
Edilio struggled to stand. It wasn’t easy. His legs did not want to stay where he put them.
Astrid had a hand over one eye but was steadying Edilio with the other.
“You okay?” Astrid asked. “Did he shoot you?”
“I don’t think so.” Edilio patted himself down, searching for but not finding any wounds except for a growing knot on the crown of his head.
His vision cleared enough to notice the red welt where the bat had caught Astrid in the eye. “You’re going to have a shiner.”
“I’m okay,” Astrid said, shaky but strong.
Zil’s mob was gone. Disappeared. It was just the three of them left, Edilio, Astrid, and Hunter.
Edilio picked up the shotgun and cradled it carefully. “I guess that could have been worse. No one got shot.”
Astrid said, “Hunter, go inside and get some ice for Edilio’s head.”
“Yeah. No problem,” Hunter said. He hurried away.
With Hunter out of hearing Astrid said, “What are you going to do?”
“Sam said bring Hunter in.”
“Arrest him?” Astrid asked.
“Yeah, because all of a sudden I’m like the sheriff, too,” Edilio said bitterly, touching the lump on his head. “I must have forgot the day where I signed up for that.”
“Did Hunter really kill Harry?”
Edilio nodded, a movement which sent bright shards of pain stabbing into his brain.
“Yeah. Killed him. Maybe it was an accident like Hunter says, but either way I better take him and keep him in Town Hall.”
Astrid nodded. “Yeah. I’ll talk to him. Make him see it’s the only way.”
The two of them went inside. Hunter was not in the kitchen making ice packs. The sliding glass door to the backyard was open.
Brittney Donegal recoiled from the door when the banging started. Mickey Finch and Mike Farmer were already across the room, back by the plant manager’s office. They were waiting for Brittney to give them some guidance because neither of them had a clue.
Brittney was twelve years old, overweight, with a pimply face adorned by overbearing black horn-rim glasses. She wore sweat pants pulled up too high, and a pink frilly blouse that was at least one size too small. Her indifferent brown hair was yanked to either side in pigtails.
She had braces on her teeth—braces that had not been adjusted in three months. Braces that were accomplishing nothing now, but that she could not figure out how to remove.
Brittney had kind of had a crush on Mike Farmer, but he wasn’t exactly impressing her.
“We gotta get out of here, Britt,” Mike whined.
“Edilio said anything ever happens, we’re supposed to lock this door and sit tight,” Brittney said.
“They got guns,” Mike cried.
Another crashing impact. They all jumped. The door did not budge.
“So do we,” Brittney said.
“Josh is probably already heading back to town, safe, I bet,” Mickey said. “Mike’s right, we have to get away.”
Brittney wanted nothing more than to run away. But she figured she was a soldier. That’s what Edilio had said. Their job was to protect the power plant.
“I know we’re all just kids,” Edilio used to say. “But we may need kids to step up, someday, be more than just kids.”
Brittney had been in the square the day of the big battle. It was Edilio who had killed the coyote that was all over her, snapping at her throat, then seizing her leg in a jaw like a bear trap.
She had no scars from the coyote bite on her leg. The Healer had cured all that. And she had no scar from the bullet that had burned a crease across her upper arm. The Healer had taken all the wounds away. But Brittney’s little brother, Tanner, was one of the kids buried in the plaza.
Edilio had dug his grave with the backhoe.
Brittney had no romantic feelings for Edilio, but what she had went a lot deeper. She would rather burn for eternity in the hottest fires of Hell than let Edilio down.
Brittney had no scars, but she did still have nightmares, and sometimes not when she was asleep. Mike had been there that day, too, hurt worse than her. But it had left Mike scared and timid, while it had left Brittney mad and determined.
“Anyone comes through that door, I’m shooting them,” Brittney said in a loud voice, loud enough that she hoped to be heard by whoever was on the other side.
“Not me, I’m getting out of here,” Mickey said. He turned and ran.
