“For help. You’re the only one who can. I want you to work your way to the other side of the neighborhood and pick one of the paths that leads to the main road outside the subdivision. They’re jamming our communications, and once you get outside their range and get a signal, you call for help. Tell them to send everyone they can. Tell them about the school too. Just keep running, Dory-style, and don’t stop,” Zack finished.

“Did you just reference Finding Nemo?” Sam asked incredulously.

“I have kids, remember? We’re a Disney family. One last thing—do you want to take the shotgun or a pistol? I’m not sending you unarmed. Pistol will be lighter and has more rounds. That Glock is a good weapon, accurate and reliable.” They’d retrieved the pistols from her father’s office before leaving her house.

“The pistol,” she said. “I can handle it if I need to.” Her confidence had grown in the last few minutes, and the sense of panicked urgency she felt added to it.

“Good. Your father was smart. Somehow got fifteen-round magazines. The gun is loaded, and there’s a round in the chamber. I checked. There’s no traditional safety on the Glock. It’s built into the trigger, and the first part of the pull takes it off. Just keep your finger straight and off the trigger until you need to fire. It’s a nine-millimeter, but it will kick, although not like the twelve-gauge. Just try to control it. Most people think you need to line up a perfect shot with the rear and front sights on the target. Under the circumstances, consider it an extension of your hand—point at what you want to hit and pull the trigger. Also, take one of the push-to-talk radios. Keep it on but turned down. You can monitor the communications network they’re using, although they’ll likely change it. Any questions?” Zack asked as he handed Sam the Glock 19 and the handheld radio he’d taken from Jimmy.

“No. But what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to have a conversation with an Irish psychopath and play a little game of psychological chicken with him.”

“Do you think it will work?”

“I hope so,” Zack answered honestly. “Sam, there’s no more time. I need you to go.”

Sam Hawkins caught Zack completely off guard as she leaned in and wrapped both arms around his waist, the Glock in her right hand. “Thanks for saving my life, Mr. C.”

The display of gratitude elicited a strong affinity for the girl, a sudden desire to protect her at all costs. He was humbled by the gesture, and he loathed himself for what he was asking of her. But it needed to be done, and he had a war to wage.