The ATVs had the same idea. They drove down to the road and circled us, engines still turned all the way up. Most of them had only a single rider, while a few had passengers, strangers who pointed at us and yelled things we couldn’t understand above the din.

Then the lead ATV killed its engine, and the others followed suit. The driver, a broad, leather-clad man with a beard as lush as Spanish moss in New Orleans, swung his leg off the machine and strode toward us. The rest of the drivers stayed where they were, all the more menacing because we couldn’t see them clearly. They could have been doing anything back there in the shadows.

“Why are you out here?” demanded their leader.

Lucas—brave, potentially treacherous Lucas—stepped forward. “Our car died,” he said. “Tucson’s not safe. We were running.”

“Not safe,” said the man. “You mean on account of the fucking aliens tearing up the town? Yeah. I’d say it’s not safe.”

I drew back further, pressing myself to Graham. He was shaking, or maybe I was shaking so hard that I was passing it on to him. I wanted to run out there, to tell Lucas he didn’t have to speak for us—maybe to beg him not to speak for us. This was his chance to rejoin humanity, if he really wanted to. Maybe his last chance.

“Our car died a few miles back,” said Lucas. “We don’t want any trouble.”

“Neither do we,” said the man. “Boys?”

Four more of the drivers dismounted and walked toward us, flashlights in their hands. They lifted them so that the light was shining directly in our eyes.

“Her,” said the man, jabbing a finger at Tahlia. “Her,” he repeated, pointing at me. “Him.” Jeff, this time.

The three people with green, green eyes. The aliens.

“Fuck off,” snapped Toni, stepping in front of Jeff, who stared at her in dismay. Graham did the same for me, wordlessly moving to block me from view, never letting go of my hand. No one stepped in front of Tahlia. Mandy, who looked conflicted and miserable, was too far away; David was backing Toni. Tahlia lifted her head and stayed where she was, silent and imperious.

“You don’t know what you’re harboring, little girl,” said the man to Toni.

She narrowed her eyes. I sent a silent prayer to whoever might be listening, God or the Great Root, hoping that just this once, she could keep her tongue under control.

“I believe I am well acquainted with my traveling companions,” she said, voice tight. “My name is Dr. Antonia Fabris, also known as Dr. Anthony Vornholt. I am the scientist who originally recorded the alien signal, alerting the world to their approach. We are on our way to a government facility, where we will be aiding in the effort to protect our world.”