his arms, then fired—piercing the soldier in that slice of exposed skin on his neck, between the girl’s torso and the man’s bulletproof vest.
“See? It’s not always the worst thing to arrive late to a party,” Priyanka called over to him, covered by a different tree. There was a slight edge to the words as she added, “Never underestimate the power of a dramatic surprise entrance. You okay, Zu?”
They didn’t run.
Snapping out of my shock, I dragged Owen behind the nearest tree, trying to cover him as much as I could with my body.
“Zu?” she called again.
“Okay!” I shouted back, my voice raw from the smoke and the staggering relief that arrived both unexpected and uncontained.
They’re trying to help.
They should have run—but somehow, they’d known something was coming, and they’d tried to warn us. They’d rushed into the fray to help all these kids.
The two teens who had been guarding them burst out of the trees, rushing past me. Each had a sobbing kid clinging to their back.
“Owen,” I said, leaning down to look him in the eye. His skin was feverish to the touch. “You need to go with them, all right?”
“I can help,” he said quietly.
The heavy smoke fell over us like a curtain. Even when I breathed through my mouth, I could taste it coating my tongue.
And Owen…He flinched at every gasp or soft cry as the kids who’d been guarding the hole crossed paths with the charred remains of the soldiers.
“You already did,” I promised. “The only way you can help now is to go with them to safety.”
One of the guards held out her hand to Owen, urging him forward. He pulled away from me, but instead of taking the girl’s hand, he raised his arms.
“What are you doing?” I asked him. “Owen!”
The flames narrowed and rose like mountains where they covered the house, invincible, gorging themselves on the pure air and wood frame. But then Owen smashed his hands together with a single loud clap, and, all at once, they were smothered.
With one last reluctant look at me, he ran after the others.
A second too late to warn them, I remembered the girl, how I’d told her where to go to find the Haven kids who had already evacuated.
Thanks for letting me know.
That had been before the fire. She, or one of the soldiers, would have had time to go after them. To hurt them.
I spotted Roman as he ducked behind a tree, taking a moment to reload his gun.
Stopping only long enough to pick up the pistol that had fallen from the female soldier’s hand, I soared toward him like an arrow. Bullets thundered through the air as I ran.
Roman spun toward me, a wild look of relief on his face as I slammed into the trunk, dropping down beside him. One hand reached out, cupping the back of my head to draw me closer. He had to shout to be heard over the gunfire. “Are you all right? Tell me they didn’t hurt you—”
No—no time for that—
“They know how to find the kids,” I gasped out. “They’re going to go after them!”
His body went rigid. “Like hell they are. Priya!”
Priyanka was all color and motion, backlit by the lingering patches of fire in the trees. She ran for us, dropping to slide on her hip and leg across the last few feet of mud. Wincing, she said, “Okay, don’t let me do that again. Looks awesome, feels terrible—”
Roman cut her off. “There’s some kind of crawl space or escape route out of the house.” He glanced at me, confirming. I nodded. “They found out where it is. Can you take care of it while we finish here?”
Her expression turned grave. “Yeah. Where is it?”
“Under the dryer in the laundry room,” I said. “There might still be a few kids trapped upstairs in the attic. Call out for Jacob when you get inside and let him know we’ve got everyone.”
She nodded, tossing her long hair back over her shoulder. “I’m going to remind you that heroes frequently die, but the morally mediocre people almost always live to see another day. Don’t do anything that’s going to piss me off.”
And with that, Priyanka bolted for the house, leaving us to cover her as one of the remaining soldiers opened fire from somewhere in the forest. The screen door snapped shut behind her, then fell completely off its frame. A section of the porch collapsed with a sigh of cracking wood, burying the bodies there.
I