I stood out on the side of the road and threw up in the grass, and Officer Day said, “Just take a second there in the fresh air.” Cars coming down from the fireworks passed me as I bent over, hands on knees. It was right near the spot where only a week earlier I had stood with Grady Adams and Mrs. Boucher and the dead doe. I thought about how Ellen had jumped that night. And what was Thomas doing now? How I had done nothing that time at Jessie Warren’s house. Wherever Ellen was right now, she would fight. Maybe she’d seen Barbie Man and run for her life and hidden. Even Thomas, who barely left his room, was out there, somewhere in the dark, trying to save her. I had to get a grip on myself so that I could act.

Everything was moving in slow motion—the sway of the trees, cricket sounds, drivers slowing down to gape through the dark glass, me looking back, searching for Ellen’s pale face. The Walkers passed, the whole family looking straight ahead, as if they didn’t know me. I breathed in, like my PE teacher had said, to be ready to encounter the other warrior, to be brave.

“I’m okay,” I said to Officer Day, who had stood a few feet away, trying to give me privacy. He handed me a Kleenex. I blew my nose, and we got back into the squad car.

“Can we go to my house first?” I asked. “I need to get my sister’s number in Philadelphia.”

The house was in total darkness, and I felt better going in with Officer Day and his partner. I shook the handle of the garage doors until they unlocked and then rolled them up.

“You should get that fixed,” Officer Day said. We went up to the hallway outside the living room.

“Ellen?” I called. “Thomas?” No response. “I’ll be right down,” I said.

I ran up the five steps to the next hallway and went into our room. Marie’s number was on a slip of paper on the bookshelf. I stuffed it in my pocket. I took off my red-and-white-striped shirt and opened the drawer that held the clothes Marie had left behind. I needed something dark. I grabbed a black T-shirt and opened the closet. I took down the B. Altman box with the Marksman air gun. We had only used it a couple times out in the woods. Marie thought Thomas would be annoyed that she’d gotten one and not him, so we’d never let him know. Mom would have killed us, and then killed Dad. I put the pistol into my back pocket and a handful of darts in the other and pulled the T-shirt over them. I went back into the hallway.

“There in a minute,” I called. “Just going to the bathroom.”