He let go then, and fell into the pit and drifted from reality.
Brianna hit town like Paul Revere riding a rocket. She zoomed down streets, banging on doors, yelling, “Duck! Duck, get your butt out here!”
No Duck. Plenty of kids heard her yelling and ducked. Which on another day she might have found funny.
She ran as fast as she could. Not fast enough to outrun her own fear. Radiation. She had touched the reactor pool.
Was she already doomed?
She ran into Astrid with Brother John and her own little weird brother pulling a red wagon toward town hall. At first she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Mary Terrafino was in the wagon, curled up and covered with a blanket that dragged on the pavement.
Brianna hit the brakes and skidded to a stop in front of Astrid. Little Pete was chanting something at the top of his lungs. “Nestor! Nestor! Nestor!” Crazy. Like a crazy street person. Brianna didn’t know how Astrid could stand it.
When Little Pete spotted Brianna, he stopped. His eyes glazed over, and he slowly pulled a handheld game from his pocket.
“Brianna! Is Sam okay?” Astrid cried.
“No. Drake tore him up.” She wanted to sound tough, but the sobs came bubbling up and overtook her. “Oh, God, Astrid, he’s hurt so bad.”
Astrid gasped and covered her hand with her mouth. Brianna put her arms around Astrid and sobbed into her hair.
“Is he going to die?” Astrid asked, voice wobbly.
“No, I don’t think so,” Brianna said. She stood back and wiped her tears. “I gave him something for the pain. But he’s messed up, Astrid.”
Astrid grabbed her arm hard, squeezing enough to cause Brianna pain.
“Nestor,” Little Pete said.
“Hey,” Astrid snapped at Brianna. “Get it together.”
It shocked Brianna. She’d never thought of Astrid as weak and girly, really, but she hadn’t thought of her as tough, either. But Astrid’s jaw was clenched, her eyes cold and steely.
“Nestor,” Little Pete repeated.
“I’m supposed to get Duck,” Brianna said.
“Duck?” Astrid frowned. “Sam was probably out of his mind.”
“Duck,” Little Pete said.
Astrid stared at him. Brianna saw the look, could almost hear the wheels spinning in Astrid’s brain.
At that moment there was a commotion. Two dozen kids, some cavorting like they were at Mardi Gras, came around the corner into the town plaza. Creeping slowly behind them was a convertible with its top down and its lights flashing. The car’s CD player was blaring a song Brianna didn’t know.
Splayed across the hood of the car was the half-mangled body of a deer.
Walking behind the car, stumbling, dragging one leg like it wasn’t working right, face bloody, came Hunter. His hands were covered with something metallic, and wrapped in duct tape. A rope was around his neck. Holding the rope and sitting atop the backseat, like he was a politician at a parade, was Zil. Lance was driving. Antoine, whom Brianna knew to be a druggie jerk, was riding shotgun. Two other kids she didn’t really know were in the other seats. One of them was holding up a small, hand-lettered sign that read, “Free Food for Normals.”
“What the…,” Brianna said.
“Stay out of it, Brianna,” Astrid said. “Go help Sam.”
“They can’t do this!” Brianna cried.
Astrid grabbed her arm. “Listen to me, Brianna. Your job is to help Sam. Do what he said: get Duck.”
“This is major trouble coming, Astrid.”