“Aftershocks, mostly. I can’t reach anyone in the Summer wing. Power must be down. That place is going to self-destruct, and you don’t want to be anywhere near it when that happens. That Lausks boy has no idea what he’s done—”

I wind back to swat the fly as it buzzes past me again. Auggie’s hand shoots out, trapping my wrist. “Don’t.” There’s a firm pressure in his grip and murder in his eyes. The fly takes one more pass around me and alights on Auggie’s shoulder before I realize what it is—or rather, who it is. It must be a Summer. Maybe Auggie’s.

I lift my hands to show I mean no harm as Auggie lets go. “Sorry, didn’t realize.”

Kai touches his sleeve, drawing his attention. “We only need a few things,” she says, gesturing to a stack of boxes behind him. “Then we’ll be gone.”

Auggie eases off his stool and retreats behind the display cases, shoving aside a pile of boxes to reveal a panel in the wall. It opens to a dark stairwell, and Auggie motions for us to follow as he starts to descend. I duck my head, the wooden risers creaking under my weight, the low ceiling nearly brushing my head as we enter a cellar. The room is dimly lit with pull-chain lights, the walls lined with racks of wooden shelves. It’s like a doomsday prepper’s arsenal, every surface cluttered with collections of simple weapons.

Kai pulls a sleek black recurve bow from a rack on the far wall. Her hands pass over it, inspecting it under the light. I freeze as she draws back the string, so focused on her task, it’s as if she’s forgotten I’m here. Our eyes catch over the imaginary arrow she’s aimed at me, and color rushes to her cheeks.

“This’ll do,” she says, clearing her throat as she sets it down beside her backpack. She pulls a quiver from the shelf and stuffs it full of arrows. The silver points are tipped with wicked retractable barbs, and I get a little nauseated just looking at them.

“You can’t go parading through Greenwich Park carrying that,” Auggie scolds her. He digs around in a cabinet and pulls out a tactical case. It could be a trombone tote, for all I know, and I’m guessing he figures most other people would assume the same. Kai packs up her bow and slings the case over her back. Pacing the long shelves, she settles on a hunting knife with jagged teeth. “How about for him?” Auggie asks as she fastens on a leg strap.

She jerks her chin at me. “Go ahead. Take whatever you want.” To Auggie, she says, “Put it on my tab.”