The gruesome-looking body sitting on top of the stack sluggishly tries to raise his hand to shield against the light.

“The dead are being resurrected,” says my mother. She sounds excited, like she always knew this would happen.

“He wasn’t dead, Mom.”

“You were the first to be resurrected,” says Mom. “The first of the dead.”

“I wasn’t dead either,” I say.

“I hope he finds his family and they accept him back,” says Clara. Her tone makes it clear she doubts it.

I try not to think about the rest of the victims.

Ironically, my mother may have saved the only scorpion victims who will survive this night.

ONCE WE put some distance between ourselves and the Resistance headquarters, Clara stops the car so I can sit shotgun. Since my mother doesn’t want to be in the backseat jail any more either, we all cram into the front seat with me in the middle.

“Thank you, Clara,” I say. “How did you get the key?”

“Dumb luck,” she says. “Those twins with the funny names dropped it just a few feet away from me.”

“They… dropped it?” Those guys are the most skilled sleight-of-hand tricksters I’ve ever seen. Hard to imagine either of them dropping anything.

“Yeah, they were juggling a bunch of things between them as they walked. The key just fell and they didn’t notice.”

“But you did.”

“Sure.”

“How did you know it was the key to our police car?”

She lifts the key tag to show me. It’s a clear plastic holder that’s probably meant for pictures. This one frames a piece of paper with a note scrawled in little-kid block letters: “Penryn’s police car—Super Secret.”

If I ever see the twins again, it looks like I owe them a zombie-girl mud fight.

“I hope they don’t get in trouble,” says Clara. “They seem like good guys.”

“I’d be surprised if anyone knew they ever had the key. Don’t worry, they won’t get in trouble.” But I’m guessing one of their archenemies might.

Mom whispers urgently beside me into a cell phone, having a conversation with someone who isn’t there.

“So where should we go?” asks Clara.

That darkens my mood. Such a simple question. I can’t even begin to think through this. Both Mom and Clara are older than I am, but somehow they assume I’ll figure it out.

Paige is gone. And that dead body she was standing over…

I shut my eyes to try to blot out the image, which only makes it worse. The blood on her face wasn’t hers, I’m sure of it. Either she will hunt people or people will hunt her. Maybe both.

I can’t bear the thought of either. If they catch her, they’ll treat her the way the Resistance people did—tie her up like an animal or kill her. If she catches them…