“So what’s the plan?” I ask.
Juliet grins. “I say we blow it up.” She rubs her palms together. “The bombs, they’re strong enough to do it. If I can get to the detonator and we plant it in its path, I can destroy the Stalker. I know I can. All we’ll need is some sort of building to hide in while we plant the bomb.”
Dyl sighs. “How do we even know a bomb will work?”
I roll my eyes. “What else are we going to try, Dyl? Should we just give up and die? If that’s what you want to do go right ahead, but I want to at least try something, and this is the best plan we have.”
“No, you’re right,” he says. “Sorry. Wait, you were saying we needed a building? Because look.” He points out his window. The sun is slowly rising, and against the pink sky is the outline of a barn. “Will that do?”
Juliet nods. “It’s perfect. Okay, we need to do this now. Is everyone ready to run? Dyl and Caden, I’m going to need you to be bait. Nat and Trev, run in the opposite direction in case anything goes wrong. Okay?”
“Wait, what?” says Natalie. “What are we doing?”
“When the truck stops, get away from us. Caden, run to the back and find the black backpack. That’s the one with the bombs. Grab it and then run toward the barn.”
The barn is rapidly approaching.
“Stop, Dyl! Make it look like the gas ran out.”
Dyl puts his foot on the brake and the truck rolls to a halt. Trev grabs the door handle, swings the door open, and jumps out; Juliet follows him. I leap out after them. I turn for a second and look down the road. In the distance is a lone figure. It lowers its head and moves into a sprint position.
I wrench the tarp off the back of the truck and start searching for the backpack. Natalie and Trev leap off the road and sprint toward the forest. I scramble through a pile of clothes, then a pile of cans, then my fingers touch scratchy canvas. I grab one of the straps and pull, revealing a black backpack. I turn. The Stalker is about five hundred yards away and closing fast. Juliet and Dyl are in front of the barn, where Dyl is pushing up a plank of wood, trying to open the door.
I sling the bag over my shoulder and run. The bag jostles as my feet pound against the damp grass. Dyl drops the plank of wood and the barn door swings open, creaking as it moves. I reach them and pass the bag to Juliet.
“Is this it?” I ask, my voice harsh from breathlessness.
“It is.” Her eyes go wide. “Now move!”
I look where she’s looking. The Stalker is standing beside the truck. It’s bent over, its black fingers gripping the bottom. It straightens up, lifting the truck clean off the road like it weighs nothing. The Stalker pauses there for a moment, holding the truck above its head.
Then it turns and faces us.
I grab Dyl by the shirt and pull him a few steps forward. This yanks him out of his stupor and he starts running. Juliet follows us just as the Stalker throws the truck. It soars through the air toward us.
I dive forward as an orange blur rockets through the side of the barn, sending up a spray of wood chips. The truck hits the other side of the wall and crumbles, spraying glass and unleashing a pungent smell of gasoline. Orange fire spreads from the hood, spewing black smoke.
Juliet crouches beside the wreckage and unzips the backpack.
“Get away!” I call as I stand up. “It could blow!”
She ignores me and keeps ferreting around the bag. “Yes!” she says as she pulls out a black boxlike item. She places it on the ground and presses a button. A light on the side turns from red to green. Then she pulls a small black thing that’s shaped like a pen from the middle of the device. Smiling, she grabs a handful of straw and covers the object with it.
Through the smoke, the Stalker appears. Juliet scrambles away, joining us. We’re pressed against the back of the barn. I offer my hand to Dyl. He grabs it. His palm is cold and sweaty.
The detached door of the truck is embedded deep in the ground. The Stalker swipes at it. The door lifts up, spins once, then falls and digs itself deep into the ground, sending up little clods of brown earth.
Dyl lets go of my hand and steps forward. The Stalker’s head pivots to the side, staring at him.
“Take me,” says Dyl. His voice is hoarse. He pounds his fist on his chest. “Leave them, take me.” The sound of his fist hitting his flesh is the only noise in the entire barn. Or at least it seems that way.
I notice his feet are crossing, and he’s moving slowly to the left. Toward the bomb.
The Stalker moves into a sprint position.
“Now!”
The Stalker transforms into a blur of darkness, its hand stretching out to grab Dyl. Juliet presses her thumb down on the end of the pen. The hand grabs Dyl’s shirt and yanks down, slamming him into the ground.
A maelstrom of intense black and purple erupts out of the ground, swirling viciously. The air turns freezing cold, like all the warmth has been sucked out of the room. A vortex of color has enveloped the Stalker, save for its hand.
With a snap, the ball of color folds in on itself. The Stalker’s detached hand is all that remains. It drops, then lies still on the blackened, smoldering earth.
“Oh my God!” says Juliet. She jumps up and down and pulls me into a hug. “It worked! Do you know the ramifications of this, Caden? I’ve discovered a way to create a truly contained explosive. All of the destructive power, none of the risk. The potential for this …”
Dyl is still lying facedown on the ground. Oh no. The straw surrounding him is red with blood. His blood. There’s a lot of it.
I go to say something, but my throat clamps shut and I freeze. Please, please let him be okay. Juliet releases me.
She sees Dyl. “No way. Not now.”
I crouch beside him.
“Dyl?” I say softly. I touch his shoulder and roll him onto his back.
His nose is leaking blood, and his face is pale and sweaty. He opens his mouth, and his Adam’s apple bobs up and down.
“Caden?” he says.
His eyes close.
CHAPTER
THIRTY
Dyl is leaning against a tree using a rolled-up jacket as a pillow. His head lolls to the left and his eyes are closed, but he’s breathing. We’re in the middle of a grayish-blue forest, surrounded by smooth-barked white trees. I’m sitting beside him with my legs out in front of me, waiting for him to wake up. A sane person would be sitting with the others in front of the fire, where it’s warm and dry, but I wanted to be there when he woke. He stirs and I straighten up.
“Hey,” I say softly as I shift closer to him.