They reached Lauren a second later. Dani dropped to her knees beside the girl and put a hand on her shoulder.

“Lauren?” she whispered.

For a moment Lauren didn’t seem to even notice her. Then she turned her head and stared up at Dani, and it was obvious the girl was dazed. Maybe outright delirious.

Dani reached down and gently lifted up the hair on one side of Lauren’s head, revealing a dark bruise on the scalp there, which had even bled a little.

“She took a bad hit in the crash,” Sam whispered. “She’s out of it.”

Dani nodded, turning again and looking at the two men nearby.

Sam followed her gaze. Both men were still motionless, but up close he could see that they were alive: their chests rose and fell with their breathing.

“Time to get out of here,” he whispered.

“Do you think she’s too hurt to walk?” Dani asked.

Sam looked at Lauren, considering it. She wore shorts and a T-shirt, and in the light of the flames, her arms and legs looked unhurt. A few scrapes where she’d landed in the soft earth, but nothing bruised or bleeding.

“Let’s see,” Sam said.

He and Dani each took an arm and lifted. Lauren, though seemingly unaware of her surroundings, managed to get her balance and stay upright. She stood there swaying, looking at the wreckage as if entranced by it.

“Can you walk with us?” Dani whispered.

Lauren blinked and turned to her, and nodded slowly.

“This way,” Dani said. She nodded toward the darkness west of the crash site—away from the two unconscious men, and away from the subdivision. Sam stared in that direction: beyond the light of the burning aircraft, the cornfield lay pitch-black and empty. Out there, the three of them would be invisible. They would be home free. Reaching Station 14 would be a cakewalk at that point.

Holding Lauren’s arm, Dani got the girl moving. Sam held her other arm, though it seemed almost unnecessary; Lauren was keeping herself upright well enough.

They had gone maybe ten yards when they heard the first scream from the subdivision. A far-off, shrill cry that cut through the night.

Sam and Dani froze in place, turning back toward the sound. Sam’s eyes darted over the nearest edge of the suburb—the whole stretch of it that bordered Truman Avenue, the flat part of the sideways rainbow.

Some of the bodies sprawled in the yards were still lying there.

But not all of them.

In the first sweeping glance, Sam could see at least three people up on their feet, moving around, their motions strange in a way that was hard to pin down. He stared, transfixed by the sight.

They’re like something you’ve seen, but … what? And where?

It hit him like a shove to the chest—a memory from a few years back, in L.A.