Was it okay if he felt a little bit good that Richard Goldsbury might have been vaporized? God Almighty, he hated that kid. He’d rip the books out of your hand while walking down the hall, and then kick them across the floor. If Goldsbury wasn’t so friggin’ huge, Caleb would have punched him out, but suicide was always a bad idea. Yeah, it was okay if Richard was toast.

Joe raised his hand to bring them all to a stop. Caleb and the others walked up next to him and then stopped. Another car, this one dead in the middle of the road. An old Cadillac. “First Sergeant, you come with me,” the major said. “The rest of you hang back and keep an eye on the woods.”

“What are we looking for?” Caleb asked.

“Bad guys,” Joe replied.

Caleb’s stomach flipped. “Screw this,” he mumbled, and he took a knee.

“What are you doing?” Mom asked.

Shrugging out of his rucksack, he slid the two halves of his Ruger 10/22 out of their sleeves and assembled them. He inserted the barrel and forestock into the receiver and twisted them together. A satisfying click told him that he was done. He chambered a round of .22 long-rifle ammo, double-checked that the safety was on. He stuck his head and right arm through the loop of his single-point sling and, just like that, he was armed. When he looked up, he saw that his mother and little brother were doing the same thing.

“I guess we should be ready to shoot back, huh?” Mom said. “Be sure your—”

“—safety is on,” Luke said. “Already there.”

Joe and Paul approached the Cadillac with their rifles up to their shoulders, and they moved as if they were expecting a gunfight.

“Watch the woods, not the guys,” Mom said.

The Emersons had modified their 10/22s to resemble an AR15 platform, complete with a collapsible stock that made it easier to carry. On the Picatinny rail atop the receiver, they’d each installed a red dot sight. In their rucks, each of them carried a tactical flashlight that could be attached to the barrel shroud for night operations.

“Keep your muzzles down and fingers off the trigger,” Mom said.

“How will we know a bad guy from a good guy?” Luke asked.

Caleb said, “If he points a gun at you, he’s a bad guy.”

“Har, har,” Luke mocked.

“We’re clear here,” the major announced. “We can move on.”

“No sign of the occupants?” Mom asked.

“Not a one. I guess when their engine stopped, they decided to do what we’re doing and start walking.”

“Are you sure we’re going the right way?” Luke asked. He had that whiny edge to his voice that made Caleb want to punch him out sometimes.