“No, I got that,” Eric said. “What does it do if it hits any people?”

Danny shrugged. “Should carbonize skin and bone at about ninety feet.”

“Jesus Christ, Danny,” Carrie said.

Danny scowled at her. “Does that thing shoot Nerf darts?” he asked, pointing to the holster on her waist.

Carrie put her hand on the butt of the gun. She had her father’s back-up weapon, a .44 Ruger Police Special. As far as he knew, it was locked away in his gun safe. But she saw him enter the combination when she was six years old. She remembered. Carrie didn’t forget anything. Ever.

Now Carrie felt the gun, heavy and solid, weighing her down like an anchor. Even with everything that had happened so far, the gun was what made it all real. They were going to go out there tonight. They were going to fight. And they were probably going to die.

But first, they were going to kill some things, and some of those things would be wearing the faces of people they knew. There would be blood, and pain, and no matter what else happened, they would be responsible for it. All of them.

So instead of answering him, she asked, “Are we ready to go?”

“Ready,” Alana said, her hand lightly on the hilt of her sword, which was strapped to her side. They’d never seen her in full battle gear before. For a moment, they were all struck dumb. In her armor, with her weapons, she looked magnificent. She practically shone with her own light.

She put a heavy coat over it all, and they managed to stop staring.

“Here,” Danny said. He took out little devices about the size of a deck of cards. Each one had a glass screen on the front. He showed them how to turn it on, and each screen lit up with rows of symbols.

“Personal communicators,” he said. “They use cell-phone signals, but they have cameras and computers inside as well. We can send pictures or video or text to one another if we have to. We can use these to keep in touch.”

Danny showed them how to tap each little symbol — the communicators had a touch-screen instead of a keypad — to make everything work.

“Cool,” Eric said. “When does Sharp Industries release these to the public?”

Danny made a face. “Never. My dad said nobody’s going to pay a thousand dollars for a cell phone. He hated the idea.”

All of them caught the past tense. None of them knew what to say.

Carrie broke the silence. “Well then,” she said. “I guess it’s time.”

Eric snapped his fingers, and a brilliant ball of light exploded in the air. This was the big show now. He had to be perfect. There were no second chances. Not tonight.

Danny hefted his not-a-ray-gun. Alana had her sword. Carrie put her coat on over her holster and the vest.