“So, we don’t disarm them,” I said. “We find them, all of them, and we get them off the island. We can meet at the West Gate,” I said, thinking about the boat we’d used to get to the mountain.

“Wait a second,” Elliot said, turning to me. “We can’t just send everyone out in their pajamas.”

“We can’t?” I asked, because honestly, that had been my plan. Elliot and I had been running around in our pajamas.

“That’s a good point,” Sam said. “If we manage to pull this off, we don’t want to be recognized.”

I shared a glance with Elliot, because we’d already been recognized by my mom. It was too late for us. Even if we survived this, we were looking at a life behind bars. For a second that thought made my insides go cold, but then I gritted my teeth. It was better than the alternative, and it would be worth it if we could save lives.

“Right,” Serina said, nodding at her brother. “Otherwise we’ll Glitch back to the present and find ourselves under arrest.”

“Speaking of arrest,” I said, jerking my head toward the Chaos Cuffs we’d used to bring them here, “keep those on you. After we get rid of the bombs, we are going to need a quick exit out of here.”

“Good thinking,” Sam said.

“Well, if we need disguises, we’re in the right place,” Serina said, already jogging over to the far wall, where rack upon rack of costumes sat, waiting to outfit Glitchers as they traveled to the past. She turned to see everyone else hesitating on the platform and rolled her eyes.

“You said the Butterfly alerts went off on campus, right?” she asked. “So, if they want Butterflies, let’s give them Butterflies.” She ripped a bloodred ball gown off a hanger along with the matching red feather masquerade mask that went with it. “Try to cover at least part of your face, folks,” she said, holding it up so only her blue eyes showed through. “The less of us they can see, the less they can identify.”

“Good call,” Sam said, vaulting off the platform to join his sister. “I think there are some World War One gas masks in here somewhere.” With that everyone sprang into action, grabbing costumes off the rack and yanking them on over their crumpled pajamas. Elliot tossed me an Alcatraz prison uniform, and I glanced up at him, eyebrow raised.

“Trying to be funny?” I said, yanking the shirt on and buttoning it up.

He stared at me in confusion for a second before realization dawned on him and his face went pale.