Sky on Fire (14 page)

“But you know what, I made a mistake when I let them go,” Payton said. He looked around the Food aisles, and saw that Anna was drifting away toward the nuts and trail mix—out of ear shot. “I should have kept that sweet little girly on the bus!”

Payton elbowed Jake.

“I bet you miss her, right?” he said to Jake. “Did you have yourself a little good-bye party before she set off?”

He was talking about Josie or Sahalia.

So he hadn't killed them and he hadn't messed with them.

That was good.

Okay, okay, Astrid
had
to have the kids hiding by now. She was very good at hiding away. They had to be safe from this sicko. I was starting to think he wasn't crazy from the compounds. He was just crazy on his own.

“Mr. Payton, sir,” I stammered.

“Cadet Lieutenant Colonel,” he corrected me. “What?”

“I've been meaning to ask. How'd you guys get up on the roof?”

“Old-fashioned grappling hook, Dean. That Zarember can climb anything. Then he found a ladder and threw it down for us. Real thoughtful of you to leave it up there,” he said, clapping me on the shoulder.

I should have kept my mouth shut. I almost fainted from the pain.

“All right, doolies,” Payton said, addressing the group. “Spread out and give me a report. I want full recon on this here Greenway superstore. Exits, entrances, assets, liabilities, weapons…”

Payton winked at us.

I hated those mean, malicious winks.

“Also be on the lookout for any alcohol! Daddy could sure use a drink!”

The cadets cheered.

“Hey!” Jake said, as if suddenly remembering something. “Where are my manners? Do you guys want to get high?”

 

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

ALEX

 

17 MILES

Eventually, we saw a development. Most of the houses were dark, but there were lights in a few.

“Can't we try one?” Sahalia asked. “Maybe they have food.”

Niko didn't answer. He started to skirt the complex.

“Niko, please, can we rest?” Max said, starting to cry. “Please?”

“Okay, okay. Let's try that one,” Niko whispered to us, pointing to a unit at the side of the development. Two windows had lights on in the first floor. The light was diffuse, like it was coming through sheets of clear plastic.

“Stay close,” Niko said.

So we all came in close up behind him.

And that was actually a mistake. Because it looked like a stretch of lawn ahead of us. A manicured lawn with some leaves and debris scattered around. But it wasn't.

I was right behind Niko, and suddenly he fell forward and the ground was jerked away from under my feet and I fell backward and I was falling back on Sahalia who was behind me and then we hit the bottom.

We were in a pit and above me I saw Ulysses holding on to some roots or rocks or something.

But he couldn't hold on very long and he tumbled down and landed with us at the bottom.

It was a trap.

Dean, we fell into a pit trap.

They had laid a tarp on top of part of the foundation for a new house.

Because it was dark, we didn't see the tarp and now were in a pit.

The walls were cut by an excavator. They had that pressed-in texture, with rocks and roots sticking out in places. The floor was just deep, sludgy mud. It was wet with water on top of the clay and with lots of putrid-smelling, rotting leaves and there was some of that white mold growing against the wall.

We were in one corner of an L-shaped pit.

If Niko had walked 2 feet to the side, we would have missed it entirely.

We were crying, screaming, I don't know, making the sounds of terror and surprise you make when you find yourself fallen into a dark pit.

“Calm down, everyone,” Niko commanded. “Calm down!”

Everyone tried to stop crying. I tried to stop crying.

“We can get out,” Niko said. “We can get out if we keep calm and work together.”

And then there was the light-swipe of a flashlight at the rim of the pit.

Yes, it was a flashlight and it was bopping around.

“Hello?” Niko called.

We all joined in calling hello, help, etc.

“Oh my God, Dad! We did it!” came the voice of a kid. “I knew we'd catch someone! I knew it!”

“Settle down, Eddie, we don't know who all's in there.”

“Help us!” Batiste screamed.

Then the flashlight flashed down on all of us.

“Jesus,” the man said. “It's a bunch of kids.”

“We're just trying to get to Denver. We're not trying to rob anyone or anything,” Niko said.

“Oh yeah? Well, we're
not
going to Denver. We're waiting this thing out, right, Dad?” the kid named Eddie said.

I hated this Eddie, sight unseen. He's the worst person I ever met.

1. He had laid a trap for us.

2. We had fallen into the trap.

3. He still had a dad.

“Yeah, yeah,” said the dad. “Well…”

“Give us your food and water and we'll let you go!” the boy shouted.

“We can't!” Sahalia shouted. “We'll die without it!”

“Give it up or you can't get out,” the kid repeated.

“Now, Eddie, I don't know…,” mumbled the dad.

We couldn't see them at all. Not with the flashlights shining right in our eyes.

Max started to whimper. “The water's getting in my boots,” he whined.

“Look,” Niko said, his clear, digitalized voice going up to them. “Maybe this seems like a game to you. Trying to trap people and take things from them. But we're going to die if you take our supplies. Do you want to be responsible for the deaths of six kids? Max and Ulysses are 7 years old, for God's sake!”

They had to let us up.

The lights went out of our eyes and we heard them arguing.

“Dad, we need the water!”

“But I didn't think they'd be kids—”

“What about Mom? She needs the water! Dad! I'm so thirsty!”

It was clear who the boss was in their family—Eddie. The meanest kid in the world.

We couldn't hear the argument as well then because Max started crying hard. The water was burning his ankles and feet.

Then a light shined back down and the man said, “I see your point, son. The thing is, if we don't get your food and water, we're gonna die.”

Max's cries turned into wails, but then I heard a vicious shriek. It made me feel elated and sick to the stomach at the same time.

Josie's war cry.

And the lights went off us and we heard the fight.

*   *   *

She attacked the dad first and had him down and I guess was pounding on him. Then I think the son tried to hit her with something. There was a
thwack
and then the kid was crying, “No, please, don't.”

And then Josie roared at him, “GO ON, THEN!” Her voice sounded like a monster but she let him go. “GO!!!”

As much as I hated the kid, I didn't want him to die. And more than that, I didn't want Josie to be the one to kill him.

And the dad? Was he…?

I heard sobbing then. Josie's voice, ragged and desperate.

And then the sound of her standing up in the mud.

“Josie! Josie, it's not your fault!” Niko shouted. “You can stay, Jojo. You can stay with us!”

“I can't,” said Josie, dark and tortured above us.

“Josie!” Niko cried. “I love you, don't go!”

And then nothing.

She was gone.

*   *   *

After a few minutes, the boy came back.

“Dad?” he said. “Daddy … Daddy?”

Then the light shined down again on us.

“You give me an air mask!” he shrieked. “You throw it up right now!”

He started pelting us with rocks and clumps of mud. “You give it now!”

The thing is, we did have an extra. We had three extra.

Niko wasn't speaking or moving or anything.

“Hold on!” I shouted. “Hold on a minute!”

“I won't hold on! You throw one up now so me and my mom can get out of here or
I'll bury you alive!”

That just didn't seem like a credible threat, actually. He couldn't have been more than 11 years old and where was he going to get the dirt? But I didn't blame him for thinking illogically. His father was dead.

“We will throw one up if you let us out!” I shouted.

“What?”

I tried to think like Niko.

“We will throw up an air mask if you put down a rope for us.”

“Fine,” he spat. “Throw up two, then.”

“Okay,” I bargained. “But first the rope.”

“No way. First, the masks.”

“How about I throw one mask, you put down the rope, then I'll throw the second?”

The boy hesitated. “Okay,” he agreed reluctantly.

“He won't throw down a rope,” Sahalia scoffed.

“The mask is an extra,” I said with a shrug.

“We're going to die down here,” she said.

Niko just stood there.

I took Niko's old mask, the one he'd used before he got the good Army one, and pitched it up.

“Now give us the rope,” I yelled.

The boy, Eddie, leaned over the edge, shining his own flashlight onto his face so we could see him.

“I hope you all rot in hell!” the kid said, his face covered with tears and snot. “Your friend killed my dad!”

And he left, sobbing.

*   *   *

Niko took the gun out from his backpack.

“Niko?” I asked.

He looked at me blankly.

“Niko?” I asked again. He was acting scary.

He aimed the gun in the air.

“HELP!” he shouted. And fired
BANG
.

“Stop!” I yelled. He was scaring me. He was scaring everyone.

“HELP!”
BANG
.

The kids were screaming.

“HELP!”
BANG. BANG. BANG
.

“Niko, don't!” I screamed.

But he didn't listen. He fired our last shot and then he pitched the gun out of the pit and up onto the slimy grass above.

During all this, Sahalia had just lain down in the dank mud and was weeping.

“Get up,” Niko told her.

“It's no use. We're going to die.”

“No, we're not. Get up,” he said through gritted teeth. “I'm going to give you a boost and you're going to go get a ladder.”

“I can't,” she moaned.

But he did get her up.

First, he tried that thing where one person steps into the other person's hands. But she was still 4–5 feet short of the edge.

Then he tried putting her on his back. Still way short.

So then they tried that again, but then I was supposed to climb up their bodies somehow and get on top of Sahalia's shoulders, but that didn't work. I couldn't climb up Niko. I just grabbed fistfuls of his clothing and pulled him backward until Sahalia fell backward.

“It's no use!” she screamed. “We're going to die!”

“What about the flares!” I shouted. “We can shoot up some flares and maybe someone will come and rescue us.”

“Or kill us!” Sahalia spat.

“It's worth a try,” Niko said after a moment.

I wiggled one of the flares out of the belt. It was sealed in a plastic wrapper with a white string hanging off. I pulled the string, and a scored middle section ripped open.

The flare was cardboard and there was a cap with a sandy surface on it.

I studied the flare. It was essentially a large, fat match, complete with a sandpaper striker attached to the cap.

But before I could light it, Sahalia gestured for me to hand it to her.

“I'll do it,” Sahalia said. “I've done it before. And if you do it wrong too many times, it won't light.”

I handed her the flare. I had wanted to light it, but if she was showing an interest in our survival again, I thought I should encourage it.

She struck the cap against the tip of the flare.

Then the red light sparked up and molten light spewed out of the end. Sahalia held the flare as far away from her body as she could.

Neon orange light lit her up. I will never forget the sight of her there, her balaclava pushed away from her face, her long hair peeking through. Wearing a yellow slicker over her five layers. Ulysses and Max cowered behind her, each hugging the other for dear life, faces obscured by their air masks. Batiste's form just behind them, bent over and sobbing. Mud and grime all over them, and her, and roots and rocks jutting out from the sides of the pit.

“Should I just, like, throw it?” she asked.

Niko took it from her and hurled it up, over the side of the pit and out onto the grass.

*   *   *

Niko wrapped Max up in the tarp to try to keep any more water from getting to him. The wet was burning his legs and feet now and he kept making this low, animal kind of moaning.

Ulysses started praying in Spanish and Batiste started praying in English.

And then it started to rain.

That's when Sahalia asked me for my book.

Here is what she wrote:

My name is Sahalia Wenner.

It looks like we're going to die and I wanted to write this in case anyone finds it. If you do, please deliver my letter to Patrick Wenner, 106 McShane Place, Monument, CO.

Daddy, I'm sorry I wasn't a better girl for you. If I could go back in time I'd be up in the morning, helping you to make breakfast and do the dishes when you asked me to. I didn't know how good I had it and that's the truth.

I don't know why we had to fight all the time. I don't know what I was so mad about, now. I really can't remember.

I want you to know that after the hailstorm I was in the Greenway. Right there in our town. I don't know where you got to, or if you're even alive. But I was there with all these kids and I love them all now like they're my own brothers and sisters.