The Arrival was knocked first onto its side, then rolled onto its roof, down onto its other side, then—briefly—it landed back on its wheels before starting its second roll, coming to a stop halfway through it, all four wheels in the air, still spinning, like an upside-down turtle wiggling its legs, trying to figure a way out of its predicament.

It all happened so fast that Sandra had lost track of Katie, and when she glanced about and did not see her, panic overwhelmed her.

“Katie!” she screamed.

As if on cue, Katie stepped out from behind the corner of the house and waved weakly. “Over here,” she said.

Assured Katie was safe, Sandra turned her attention to Kyle, sprawled out on the grass, clutching his thigh, writhing in pain from that glancing blow with the Cadillac. As Sandra hopped over debris—shrubs, fencing, a tricycle—that the Caddy had brought along on its journey, Kyle let go of his leg and started looking for the gun.

He and Sandra spotted it the same time. It lay in the grass, about ten feet from him. Kyle scrambled for it on two hands and one working leg, while Sandra ran. She dived, covering the gun with her body like a noble soldier throwing himself on a grenade.

Kyle reached out and grabbed one of her ankles as she started rolling to one side so she could get a hand on the gun. She yanked her leg up quickly, breaking his grip, but then just as quickly drove it back down, forcing her heel into his face.

Specifically, his nose.

Blood spurted from it. Kyle forgot about Sandra and the gun and his wounded leg, and put both hands over his nose, blood quickly seeping out between his fingers. He wailed in pain as Sandra scooped up the weapon and got to her feet.

Archie charged out the front door, stopping before reaching his mother to survey the Cadillac’s path of destruction, a disabled Brandon Kyle, and a freed Katie, who was running to check on Bruce.

“Crazy,” Archie said. He looked down at Kyle and asked his mother, “Who’s this dude?”

“A bad guy,” she said breathlessly. “A really, really bad guy.”

Archie blinked, took a step closer to the man, and all at once the tension that had been building up in him all day—trapped in the mall, losing a friend, wondering whether he’d make it out alive—came out in a kick right to the back of the man’s head.

“Archie!” his mother screamed as Kyle’s eyes closed and he drifted into unconsciousness.

“He was going to shoot you guys,” Archie said. “Nobody does that to my mom or my sister.”