“Just between us, let me tell you one last thing. Personally, I’m tempted to shoot you in the head, right here, right now. But she’s seen enough bloodshed for one Friday night, which means you get a pass. I’m going to duct-tape you to this railing, make sure you can’t escape, cover your mouth—don’t worry; I’ll punch a hole in the tape so you don’t suffer; I’m not a monster—and then I’m going to do everything in my power to stop this madness, no matter what I have to do or whom I have to kill.”

The girl returned and handed the roll of thick, black tape to Jimmy’s interrogator. “Here.”

The third call from the radio grabbed their attention, and the man and the girl stood in silence as Barrett Connolly spoke. “Is that you, Mr. Citizen of the Year? Are you causing more problems out there in the big bad woods? Did you take out more of my men?” Silence. “You’re there. I can feel it. Whatever you think you’re doing, you’re doing the wrong thing. You’re not a white knight. You’re only going to get more innocent people killed.” His voice was sinister and syrupy, threatening in the extreme. “And I’m going to prove it to you. You have five minutes to come my way and surrender. If not, someone dies. You know where we are. The clock starts now.”

“What now?” the girl asked, fear and concern in her voice, as she handed Zack the tape.

“Thanks. Give me a second,” Zack said, and turned back to Jimmy. “Before we go, one last question, and maybe it will buy you a little credit with the man upstairs or whatever god you worship. Where are they taking everyone?”

“Falling Rock Elementary. It’s where the cops and FEMA would go for a real emergency. Because of that, we’re using it as a base of operations and to secure everyone once they’re there.”

Zack nodded in the gloom, yanked a long stretch of tape off the roll, and tore it, the sound raising the hairs on the back of Jimmy’s neck.

“Well then, Jimmy, it’s been a blast,” Zack said, and placed the tape on his mouth, pulled out a knife, and cut a slit in it so Jimmy could breathe. Within a minute, he’d used enough tape on Jimmy to guarantee he was going nowhere for the foreseeable future.

Zack grabbed Jimmy’s vest, the Commando assault rifle, and the radio and stood up. “Let’s go,” he said, and the team of two—one operator and one teenage girl, both killers—disappeared from sight.

God, please let me get out of this alive, and I swear I’ll change. There was no response, and Jimmy focused on breathing through the small slit in the tape, his nose swelling shut by the minute.