“Diablo! Diablo demonio!” The man pushed himself back in the dirt.

“He thinks we’re all demons.…” Jane stopped, looking over her shoulder. “Do you hear that?”

“Mary, madre de la gracia,” the man continued, tears in his eyes.

“Hear what?” Quincy asked.

“That buzzing. What is that?” Jane asked.

“I don’t hear anything.”

The sound of tires tearing across dirt came from the near distance. “Someone’s coming,” William said. “Jane, can you tell him—”

“William Chance!” came a voice on a bullhorn from deep within the trees. “Drop to your knees and put your hands on your head!”

They looked to the grove, seeing the shapes running. Soldiers in camouflage, their weapons out, barreling towards them.

A drone then buzzed over, just as the approaching vehicles grew louder and greater in number.

“Get behind that truck!” William ordered.

In the increasing noise came the sound of helicopters, lifting over the swell of hills nearby. From the road, Marauders came to a grinding halt, the doors flying open and more soldiers rushing out.

“William Chance! The entire perimeter is surrounded. Please put your hands on your head and direct the others with you to do the same.”

The soldiers in the groves were quickly approaching, the others that had swarmed around Quincy’s rented truck were lining up as well, their weapons fixed on them.

“Mr. Chance! This is your final warning. We do not want to hurt you or any of those people. Your family is here. They want you to stop this,” boomed the voice.

He saw it then. The soldiers waved four people out from one of the Marauders.

William’s heart dropped, seeing his aunts Kate and Stella surrounded by soldiers. He watched them both turn back to help two women out.

At the sight of Roxy and his grandmother, his chest tightened.

“No!” he bellowed.

They had them. All of them. Regardless of everything he did, everything he’d done, they were still in harm’s way.

“Mr. Chance! Now!” the bullhorn bellowed.

He saw some of the weapons turn towards his grandmother.

William closed his eyes.

Fire exploded, the very dirt erupting in fire, so tall it reached to the tops of the trees. The leaves caught fire next, the fruit exploding with the heat. As the soldiers near the grove stumbled away, the trunks sizzled and began to ignite.

The flames encircled William and the others, now rising so high that the sight of the hovering helicopters was lost.

William breathed, beginning to walk towards the flames, keeping his connection strong with the immigrant. The presence was there, again on the boundary, angrily trying to penetrate, knowing William was controlling another.

Burn, burn, burn, he could almost feel it commanding.

With the heat of the flames so strong that it began to singe his eyelashes, he again closed his eyes.