Cassius gave a low growl, fur standing up on his shoulders. He swung his head toward the side of the building.

“What?” I whispered. “What is it, boy?”

From around the corner came the rattling of wheels.

My muscles tensed. “Let’s go,” I said. “Now.”

We hurdled the boxwood hedge, making it to the far side of the flatbed truck just before Afa came into view. He was hauling the pallet jack. Shooting a look over my shoulder, I saw that it was stacked with cages. Fortunately, Afa was bent forward, straining against the weight of the pallet, so he didn’t see us as we vanished into the tree line.

Breathing hard, we watched him roll the pallet jack to the side of the big truck. Several more big male Hosts trailed behind him. They hoisted the crates up onto the flatbed. Seeing the kids loaded up like produce was almost too much to bear. Cheeks pressed into wire. Fingers curled around bars. Sobs and pleading.

When he was done, Afa grabbed the pallet jack and started back the way he’d come. One of the Hosts climbed into the truck and drove off, exhaust steaming from the tailpipe. The flatbed vanished, and a moment later another pulled in. They were running shifts, moving the kids somewhere.

The driver left the flatbed idling and walked into the church, probably to help with the next load. The other Hosts remained at the far end of the truck, staring at the church, waiting for Afa and the driver to reemerge.

Patrick drew back farther into the trees. “Let’s go,” he said.

Something stopped me in my tracks. I thought of Lyssa Unger curled in the fetal position. Blake crammed into that battery cage, his kicked-over wheelchair left behind. Wherever he was going, he’d be even more helpless than the others. Anger clawed its way up my throat.

I put Cassius on a sit-stay and broke from the tree line, sneaking up behind the truck. The male Hosts were right there on the far side, facing away, but any fear I had was overpowered by anger.

I swung one of the baling hooks into the rear tire. It punctured the rubber softly, giving off a hiss. The guards didn’t turn around. Keeping a careful eye on them, I walked silently backward into the woods.

Hands reached out, grabbing me from behind, and I almost yelled.

Patrick.

“That was dumb,” he said.

Annoyed, he nudged me along through the tree trunks.

He was right, of course. Taking out one tire wouldn’t solve anything, but maybe it would slow them down a little.

Right now it was the best I could do.