There would be a lot of grieving, and a lot of healing. Plenty of lawsuits, too, Sandra figured. She had no idea how many lives had been lost today, but this was a strong community and it would pull through. Not overnight. It would take months, if not longer, but Garrett Island would move forward.

And what would she do? Would she stick with public relations? Would having represented Arrival become a stain on her record? Would the locals hold it against her that she had played a role in organizing the Arrival event?

She’d have to find a way to forgive herself first.

Up ahead, she saw her house. And there, in the driveway, was an Arrival. A bright red one.

Gracie.

If she hadn’t already seen other Arrivals heading back to their home bases, looking to be recharged, she’d have been alarmed by the car’s presence. But if Gracie had come home, it had to be because she was wrung out. Like Adam used to say, Ridden hard and put away wet.

The little bitch, Sandra thought. If she thinks I’m going to plug her back in, she’s out of her little electronic mind.

But then Sandra saw something that prompted her to suddenly hit the brakes. Archie’s head slammed into her upper back.

“What?” he said.

He peered around his mother and saw what had made her stop.

Pinned at the knees, between the house and the front bumper of the Arrival, was Katie. She faced the wall, her arms outstretched, her face turned to one side.

Sandra turned off the bike. Archie hopped off first, then she swung her leg over and put both feet on the ground.

As she started running toward the Arrival, its lights began to flash, a warning for Sandra to stop.

Gracie spoke.

“Plug me in.”

Forty-Six

Joe was leaving the community center when he got Sandra’s text congratulating him on disabling the cars. He had no idea what she was talking about, but when he got outside, he started putting it together.

Many of the Arrivals that were still operable after they’d attacked the fire engine and ambulance were leaving. An Arrival that had been given to the community center to replace its staff car came back up the drive and stopped at the charging station that had been set up for it. On a post was a small box holding a cable that, once unspooled, could be hooked up to the car and have it ready to go again in short order.

“Son of a bitch,” Joe said under his breath. “Of course.”

Then he saw something equally startling.