Jon dropped down to the floor.
Tori slipped out of her seat belt and made a move to stand up…
…as the music from the black plane grew louder. It was powering up its engines.
Slowly, it began to float toward us.
“Too late!” Kent yelled.
He threw the Explorer into reverse and jammed his foot on the gas.
“No!” Tori screamed and fell back into her seat with a grunt of pain.
I pushed Olivia down to the floor, for whatever good that would do.
Kent was twisted around backward, a wild look in his eyes, as he fought to stay in control of the SUV.
“Is it coming?” he shouted.
“It’s rising into the air,” I replied. “And closing.”
“Damn!” Kent bellowed. “Hang on!”
He spun the wheel, and the SUV whipped around so quickly I feared we would flip. We crashed into a couple of garbage cans and narrowly missed hitting a cement light pole, but Kent stayed in control and got us turned in the other direction.
“We can’t outrun that thing,” I warned.
“We can try,” Kent shot back.
I turned to see that the black plane had lifted higher off the ground and was drifting closer. In seconds it would be directly over us.
“Find an alley,” I screamed. “Anything to keep it off of us.”
“You say that like I’m not already trying!” Kent yelled back.
Tori made a move toward the sunroof again.
“Sit down!” I shouted.
I grabbed her belt and yanked her back into the seat.
She glared at me but stayed put.
“We’re reaching the end of the stadium. When I make the turn, hang on,” Kent commanded. “I’m going to floor it and—whoa!”
When he turned the corner onto Brookline Avenue, we were faced with a dozen cop cars with flashing lights headed our way.
“What?” Kent screamed.
I thought for sure there would be a head-on collision. Kent slammed the brakes. The seatbelts held us all in our seats, except for Tori. She flew forward and hit the dashboard. I heard her squeal as she hit—and I hoped that the gun wouldn’t accidently go off.
The cars all hit the sirens, joining together in a steady, aggressive wail that would have been annoying if it weren’t so welcome.
“What’s happening?” Olivia asked, stunned.
“I think the cavalry just arrived,” I replied.
“They’re crazy,” Jon shouted. “They’ll be blown apart.”
The group of screaming cars split apart and passed us on either side.
We all turned quickly to see them chase after the black plane that was now headed in the opposite direction and gaining altitude. It was like seeing a black fox being chased off by a pack of hungry dogs. Only in this case, the fox had lethal teeth that could easily tear the hounds apart.
“I don’t get it,” Jon said, stunned.
“What is it afraid of?” I added. “It’s not like the cops can shoot it out of the sky.”
“Or maybe they can,” Tori sniffed.
The black plane banked sharply to the left and accelerated, rising into the sky. Seconds later, it was out of sight.
The five of us stared after it, not entirely sure of what we had seen.
“What just happened?” I said, dumbfounded. “I’m not complaining, I just don’t get it.”
The cop cars had broken off their pursuit and were headed back our way. Their flashing lights were dark, their sirens silent. One car was out in front; the others drove behind in threes. We watched as the lead car came to within ten yards of our rear bumper and stopped.
“Put the gun away,” I ordered Tori.
I saw her eyes flare with defiance, but she opened the glove compartment and threw it inside.
I pushed open my door, got out, and walked to the rear of our car. The others followed directly after and stood behind me.
The sun reflected off all of the car windows, so I couldn’t see who was inside any of them. We stood that way for a solid ten seconds. I was beginning to wonder if we had found yet another enemy when the driver’s door opened on the lead car.
Out stepped a burly guy who looked more like a linebacker than a cop. He was tall with a heavy, dark beard and wore jeans and an “Ortiz” Red Sox jersey. He rounded his car and stood in front of it with his arms folded, watching us.
The other car doors opened, and several more people came out, none of whom looked like cops. There were a few women, but most were men. They were all dressed in street clothes, some in business suits, others in jeans. They all looked to be around my dad’s age.
“You kids are lucky we came along,” the lead guy finally said.
“We are,” I called back. “I can’t believe you scared that plane off. I mean, it could have blown you all away.”
“It could have. Those things pack a wallop. But they’re fragile. A couple of rifle shots and they drop like a brick. We’ve tangled before. They know better than to stand up against a posse that’s armed for bear.”
“Who are you?” Tori asked. “You’re not cops.”
The lead guy looked back to the others. They all laughed as if Tori had just said something very cute, or very stupid.
“We’re the closest thing to cops that’s left around here,” the big guy said. “Who are you?”
“We just drove down from Portland,” I answered. “But we’re from Pemberwick Island.”
On hearing the words “Pemberwick Island,” they all tensed up.
“There’s no virus there, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Tori said.
“No,” the guy replied. “We never thought there was. It’s just a little surprising to see folks who made it this far. And kids, no less.”
“So who are you?” Kent asked.
“You’re looking at the last survivors of Boston, Mass.,” he answered. “Welcome to Bean Town. Or what’s left of it.”
SEVEN
My name’s Chris,” the big guy said, holding out his hand to shake. “Chris Campbell.”
I shook his hand and said, “Tucker Pierce. This is Tori Sleeper, Olivia Kinsey, Kent Berringer, and Jon, uh, what was your last name again, Jon?”“Purcell. Jon Purcell.”
“Welcome,” Chris said. “Though I guess that’s an odd thing to say. There’s nothing welcoming about Boston anymore.”
Chris seemed friendly enough, though I wouldn’t challenge him to a fight. He had biceps like hams that strained his jersey. He didn’t have a trace of a Boston accent—which was strange, considering he was wearing a Sox jersey.
He motioned to the others behind him and added, “You’ll meet the rest of my crew soon enough. Where are your parents?”
None of us answered.
“Never mind,” Chris said quickly, picking up on the fact that he had touched on a sore subject. “We’ve all got stories.”
“How did you guys survive the attack?” Tori asked.
“Different ways,” Chris said. “Bottom line was, we were all deep underground when those bastards hit. I work for Mass Electric. I was working below the Prudential Center when the power went out.” He chuckled and added, “I was afraid it was something I did. Thought I was gonna catch hell. Took me two hours to get back to street level, and when I did…”
He didn’t have to describe what he found.
“Is this it?” Olivia asked. “Are you really the only survivors?”
“Nah, we’re just the cowboys.”
“Cowboys?” Jon said.
“We got tired of sitting on our butts and boohooing, so we grabbed these cop cars. During the day we sweep the city, looking for other survivors. A lot of people made it, thank god. We round ’em up and bring ’em all together. Like cowboys.”
“Yippee ki-yay,” Kent said sarcastically.
“Hey,” Chris shot back. “It’s a good thing. We’ve all lost family and friends. We gotta take care of each other.”