We hadn’t failed just in our mission; we were coming back to a far more chilling reality. It wasn’t just Creek’s Cause that was compromised—or the valley itself.

It was the whole state. Or even the continent.

And Patrick turned eighteen in four days.

After leaving the truck in the woods outside town, we circled the school and came in from the barren plain to the west, sneaking to the left-field fence of the baseball diamond. Patrick had switched the locks on the bullpen gate himself, and so after a few twists of the combination dial we drifted onto the outfield grass and crept toward the school just as dawn started to lift the cover of night.

Finally we came up on the back door near Dr. Chatterjee’s biology room. Before Patrick could give a tap with his knuckles, it swung open.

Ben Braaten’s wide, broken face peered out at us, chewing a Slim Jim, a lookout canteen looped around his neck.

He took our measure, then stepped back to let us in. “All hail the rescuing army,” he said.

*   *   *

We entered the dark gym, worn out and exhausted. Some kids were sleeping, but there was a surprising amount of activity. JoJo and Rocky tossed the Frisbee, the fluorescent green disk zipping back and forth. JoJo had set Bunny on the bottom bleacher so that those half-marble stuffed-animal eyes could watch them play. JoJo spotted us first, gave a shout of delight, and ran over, wrapping her arms around me. Her sweeping brown hair had been cut short, sticking out at jagged angles. I guess the two-minute showers had made it too hard to manage. It looked terrible and adorable at the same time.

We walked over to the storage room to turn in our supplies and weapons. Eve had fallen asleep at her desk, her cheek resting on her arms. I shook her gently.

She lifted her sleepy head. At the sight of me, a smile seemed to catch her by surprise. “Chance. I wasn’t sure you were coming back.”

“Uh, we’re here, too,” Alex said with a knowing grin.

“Right.” Eve looked embarrassed as she took our stuff. “Glad you’re okay.”

Most of the others had noticed us by now, the kids on the cots rousing as news of our return rippled through the gym. Over on the bleachers, Dr. Chatterjee was frowning down at the carbon monoxide detector. He looked up and threw a salute in our direction.

“What happened?” he asked, the others quieting down at his voice.

“You guys really don’t know?” Patrick said. “You didn’t hear?”

“Hear what?” Ben asked.

“The booms in the sky?” Alex said.

A hundred blank faces looked back at us.

Then Marina Mendez bolted upright. “The explosions we heard,” she said, prodding her twin sister.

“Yeah,” Maria added. “We thought the Hosts were blowing up gas lines in town or something.”