Both Eight and I are frozen as Five turns to look at us. His expression is disconcertingly friendly considering his stretched-out appendage is currently holding Nine under water and Six is lying unconscious at my feet thanks to a vicious sucker punch. I can see vibrations spread up Five’s arm from where Nine must be punching at it, trying to free himself. The blows must not be giving Five any pain because he hardly seems to notice.

He sits down on his Chest and looks at us.

“The three of us should probably talk,” Five says calmly.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

THE CONNECTION TO ADAM ABRUPTLY GOES DEAD. I glance down at the phone’s screen, but Adam called from a blocked number. There’s no way to call him back. Wherever he was, Adam sounded like he was moving fast, practically shouting over the wind whipping around in the background. On the run and sounding panicked. I’m the exact opposite: rooted in place and feeling almost numb.

What would John do in this situation? Get moving, that’s what. I shove the phone into my back pocket and move past my dad, heading for the hallway.

“He said the Mogadorians know where we are, and that they’re on their way. We need to get out of here. Now!” I call back to my dad.

When I glance over my shoulder, he’s still standing next to the bed.

“Come on,” I say. “What’re you waiting for?”

“What if—” My dad squeezes the bridge of his nose. “What if I can’t be trusted?”

Oh, right. The whole possibility that my dad could be some kind of unwitting double agent for the Mogadorians. There has to be a better explanation for how his notes fell into their hands. Maybe he’s not sure if he can trust himself, maybe he’s worried that his memory is failing or working against him. It doesn’t matter. I make up my mind right then and there. I trust him.

“Remember outside of the Dulce Base when I wanted to rush back inside to go help the Garde fight? You told me there would be other moments to make myself useful to the Loric. Well, I think this is one of those times. I trust you, Dad. I can’t do this without you.”

He nods solemnly. Without another word, he reaches under his bed and pulls out the rifle that he used to take down that monster in Arkansas, pumping a shell into place.

“Did Adam tell you how long we have?” he asks.

As if in answer, the building shakes, all the lights flickering. An engine flares outside, the noise above us and dangerously close, followed by a sharp metallic grinding. Something just landed on the roof.

“Apparently, not long at all.”