“What? What were you saying?”

“We shouldn’t have to deal with all this crap, Maxie. We’re just kids. I never realized before. Our moms and dads used to deal with crap so that we didn’t have to. They worried about things for us, and they did difficult things for us, so that we could just keep on being kids. We used to laugh at them and call them boring and pointless, but they protected us, they made the world safe for us so that we could play. I don’t want to be an adult, Maxie. I want to go back to being just a kid again. But I can’t. It’s not an option. I’ve got to be a father to these little kids, and you’ve got to be a mother. They need us. I wish they didn’t. I wish I wasn’t needed. Look around. I sit down for a rest and everything falls apart.”

Maxie stood up. Arran was right. The excitement of being outside was making everyone careless. There was still a party mood. Kids were perched on cars, chatting, or sitting on the curb in the sun.

Maxie shouted to Blue. He strolled over, trying to look cool.

“What’s up?”

“We need to keep alert,” she said. “We need to keep organized. We have to be ready at all times.”

Blue shrugged. “We’re ready.”

“We’re not.”

Blue gave her a look. “The only one not at their post is you, girl.”

“I’m making sure Arran’s all right.”

“Ain’t you got someone else can do that?”

“Yeah.” Maxie went to find Maeve.

Ollie was at the rear of the group, nervously looking back the way they had come. The other skirmishers, armed with javelins, slings, and rocks, were squatting in the shade of a van, talking about soccer. Ollie wished they were taking this more seriously.

“It’s not right,” he said, trying to get their attention.

“Chill out,” said one of the Morrisons crew. “There’s no one around.”

“Yeah, but there should be people around,” said Ollie, squinting up the road toward the top of the hill. “We haven’t come down this way for ages because it’s always been too dangerous. So where are all the grown-ups now?”

“They’re hiding from us, man,” said the other boy. “Anyone tries to attack, they’ll be massacred.”

Ollie looked around at the scattered group.

“Everyone’s relaxed too much,” he said.

“Except you,” said the boy, and the others laughed.

“Be quiet a minute!” Ollie put a finger to his lips.

“What?”

“You hear anything?”

“No . . . No, wait. Now I hear something.”

There was a swooshing sound, like waves rolling pebbles across a beach, and a murmur like the wind.

“Something’s coming,” said Ollie.

Josh was moving among the kids, trying to keep them alert. Most grumbled at him, and when he got to the Morrisons team, who were supposed to be guarding the right flank, they looked half asleep. Josh struggled to remember the name of the tall, dozy-looking kid with the Afro who was meant to be in charge. Lewis. That was it. He was sitting slumped against a storefront, his eyes closed.