“I want to bargain. You turn yourselves in, I don’t have any more dead teenagers in my case report.”

“Any more” echoed in Kai’s head. He’d said it so casually.

“And what if I refuse?” Kai asked, putting the phone on speaker mode. Her ear was burning.

“Well, Kaila, I think we both know you’re not stupid enough to do that. Not only do I know where you just parked off of Spring Street, I know where you’re going, and I have a pretty good idea of what you’re going to do. It’s not happening. I’ve had Google Atlanta completely evacuated, Atlanta’s finest are on the way as we speak, and all military satellites have been moved from Atlanta airspace. This is over, children. I know you thought you could evade us with your firewalls and data encryptions and IP blocking, but this is the big time. We’ve got phone records. You should have stuck with spray paint and ink pens.”

“Bye, nigga,” Apollo blared from the back seat, reaching over the console and grabbing Kai’s phone. He ended the call, then tossed the phone onto the street, where it was quickly devoured by oncoming traffic. Kai wished they had used burners like the first time.

They got out of the car and headed toward the building. After a few steps, Zed’s phone rang.

It was “Theo” again. Zed sighed and lobbed her phone into the street. It tarried before being overrun by a herd of vehicles, the lit phone a dull ember on the jet-black asphalt. Apollo’s phone lit up soon after. He threw it directly at a passing car, striking a passenger in the face through an open window. They all laughed at once, deep laughs that penetrated the noise of the city. Kai was glad they were on a one-way street.

“Do we have to do this?” Kai asked as they idled on the sidewalk. “Is it really our job to destroy these satellites? Theo is dead.”

Sol kept walking. Then her phone rang, loud and shrill and funky. The ringtone was “My Summer Vacation,” by Ice Cube. In April, Theo had insisted that she both obtain the song and make it his ringtone. Kai was surprised that Sol had obliged.

Sol answered her phone with a bark. “What?”

Rick was loud, emboldened. “Last chance, kiddies. It’s 2019. Cops show up, someone tends to get shot.”

“Well, I guess you’ve got plenty of reason to stay the fuck away from us.”

“I’m not a cop,” Rick said. The call ended.

° ° °