Water sloshed at the man’s boots. The world had never been louder. The throb of helicopter blades in the sky above the city; the thunder of the brimming, surging river; the static of rain hitting standing water. The noise seemed to be building to a fever pitch.

The man looked down at the boy to see if he could hear it, but the boy didn’t look up. The boy was very quiet. Some days he didn’t say a word.

Movement caught the man’s eye and he glanced up at the esplanade and saw another National Guard soldier loping in their direction. The soldier’s hat was pulled low. He was on his way somewhere, head down.

The man pushed the boy forward with his heavy-gloved hand.

“Can you help my son?” the man called.

The boy stumbled, the weight of the bucket throwing him off balance.

The soldier stopped and looked up. He was still a good thirty feet away.

The man waved.

The soldier grinned and waved back.

He came over to them in a slow jog. When he got within a few feet he stopped, put his hands on his thighs, and bent down so that he was eye-level with the boy. “What’s the problem, kiddo?” he asked.

The boy didn’t answer.

The man nodded at the bucket. “He found this on the sidewalk,” he said. “We think it’s hurt.”

“What is it, buddy?” the soldier said.

“Show him,” the man said.

The boy made a sound. Somehow it bubbled up above the roar of rotors and river. One word. Clear as day.

“Run.”

The man grabbed the bucket from the boy, lifted it, and heaved its contents at the soldier.

The water slopped against the soldier’s face and chest. He cried out in surprise. Then looked at the ground, his face knitted with confusion.

The man was breathing hard, his heart pounding in his chest. The blue-ring lay at the boy’s feet, a soft yellow ball of flesh, its neon rings a bright pulsing blue. He scooped it up in his glove and lowered it gently into the bucket. If they got it back in its tank soon, it might live.

The soldier hadn’t moved.

That was a good sign.

The man looked over at him. The soldier lifted his hand to his cheek, brought it back down, and looked at it. The man could see a small red mark forming. But the injection point was tiny. There wasn’t any blood.

The soldier fell to his knees, facing the boy. He looked surprised.

“You,” he said.

The word hung in the air for a moment before the soldier fumbled for his radio, dropped it, and collapsed.

This time, there wasn’t time to watch.

The man picked up the bucket and put a gloved hand back on the boy’s shoulder. “That’s how you kill someone,” he said.

Chapter 39

CHAPTER

39