“You mean you steal them from the Federation?” I said.
“No, silly.” She winked. “We return all the bullets.”
Bertha fired another round into the air.
“Brilliant, Bertha,” said Phoenix. “What do you call her?”
“The Paralyzer,” the girl said, cradling the gun in her arms like an infant. “She launches an electrical shock capable of inducing paralysis for between ten and sixteen hours, and she’s effective up to forty feet away.”
“Balls, that’s cool,” said Dove under his breath.
The megalodons’ fins teetered as they tore off more chunks from the island.
“Yeah,” I whispered to Kindred, “but can it kill a shark?”
Bertha pointed to me. “Who’s the kid? Boy Scout? We’re not buying cookies this year, thanks.” She cackled at her own joke.
I rolled my eyes. “Boy Scouts don’t sell cookies.”
She stepped back. “And now he’s giving me sass. The Boy Scout’s giving me sass.”
Kindred patted my back. “His name’s Kai Bradbury, dear.”
“What?” she squinted. “Car Battery? What the hell kind of name is that?
“Better than Big Bertha,” I muttered. I glanced at Phoenix. He was shaking his head. Crashing glass echoed around us.
“I suspect he’s got brain injuries,” said Phoenix. “So far he’s been slow. But he did take a Dummy Dart to the head. I imagine the serum’s still wearing off.”
“For his sake, I hope so,” said Bertha. “We don’t need another Dove.”
At that moment Dove was giggling and chasing a butterfly.
Bertha sucked in a breath. “Now lemme tell you something, Car Battery—”
“It’s Kai Bradbury—”
“You don’t kill sharks. Or megalodons. Or anything for that matter in these waters. The last thing we want is a bunch of blood floating around us in the middle of the ocean. You think a few megalodons are bad? Picture an ocean full of ’em.”
Sparky glanced at the shore. “Could we possibly focus on getting rid of them? Maybe? For even the smallest of seconds? They’ve already destroyed fifteen feet of shoreline.”
Bertha sighed and fired her gun at the water. The weapon kicked like a bucking horse, and she had to steady herself against the building’s concrete wall. The salt water magnified the electric ball’s effects, and a megalodon’s frozen body floated to the surface. The Paralyzer had worked. She fired again.
“Shiny!” said Dove, noticing the ball of white sparks. Kindred patted his back.
Another megalodon floated to the surface. For a split second, Phoenix lowered the gun he aimed at me.
I jerked Kindred’s gun from her hands and immediately fired twice at his leg. Darts flew out rather than bullets. Tranquilizers, I guessed, based on what Phoenix had said.
Phoenix stared at his leg and smiled slightly. “I underestimated you, Kai Bradbury.”
The guns fell from his hands and his knees buckled. Bertha aimed the Paralyzer in my direction. I quickly shot probably thirty rounds at her—my aim wasn’t great, but one dart finally hit her neck. I guessed Sparky was very conservative with his estimates.
Bertha pulled the dart from her neck. “Well damn,” she said, and then fell like Phoenix.
“Oh, dear,” said Kindred.
Sparky aimed his gun at me, hands shaking. “We—we will not condone this sort of behavior. Cease your fire at once.”
My heart pounded. This was no time to be reasonable. These people weren’t my friends—they weren’t decent human beings. They were hurting people. Stealing lives. They were criminals, and had to be stopped. I fired darts at both Kindred and Sparky, and they fell to the ground.
Dove looked at me with wide eyes. “Balls,” he said, before lowering himself to the ground.
My breaths came in bursts. I’d beaten the terrorists at their own game. They were done. I could call the Federal guards and turn them in. They’d been dysfunctional at best; it was hard to believe they’d evaded the Feds for so long. With their capture, I could prove my innocence—and I could see Mom and Charlie again.
The island shook as the megalodons continued to tear it apart. The Lost Boys lay crumpled at my feet. It was just me and the monsters now.
Crap.
I hadn’t thought this through. I ran toward Bertha and grabbed the Paralyzer off the ground, aiming it at the water.
“DNA scan required,” announced a robotic voice from within the gun.
Crap.
I really hadn’t thought this through. I grabbed Bertha’s hand and twisted her limp fingers around the gun. Farther down the beach, Tim inched away from Sparky’s limp body. His instincts told him there was danger. It was time to flee.
“Identity confirmed,” announced the gun. I squeezed my hand over Bertha’s, pulling the trigger. It kicked in my hand, knocking me back. A ball of energy sailed through the air. I positioned myself again, this time aiming at the water.
A dart landed in the sand next to me with a hiss. A pit formed in my stomach. There was still one Lost Boy left.
Mila Vachowski.
Another dart whizzed past my ear. I had to move. I dropped Bertha’s gun and ran for the other end of the island. A dart sailed past my face, its shuttlecock scraping my cheek. Another whizzed past my throat.
Her aim was getting better. I wondered if the darts she fired contained a sedative or a poison. Probably a combination of the two.
By now, even more megalodons ate at the shoreline. New Texas was slowly disintegrating. Farther out, I saw debris floating freely. The monsters were in a frenzy now, this close to tasting their prey.
I remembered Mom saying that megalodons were incredibly smart for sharks, their intelligence rivaling that of dolphins. Like they’d been bred to attack human prey.
It was strange that such an intelligent monster had developed so quickly. Some researchers said that it was because of the massive amount of nuclear fallout in the ocean: that the radioactive waste that had fallen from the sky had altered the genes of other shark species and transformed them into these creatures of prehistoric proportions. But Mom said their rapid evolution was almost too perfect, too much of a statistical anomaly to make sense. A three-headed shark would’ve been more reasonable.
A dart stabbed through the loose fabric of my shirt, but didn’t nick my skin. I knocked it to the ground, careful not to touch its loaded needle. I kept running, and turned a corner on the island, but the darts didn’t stop. There was no escaping. Running like this wouldn’t work. The second I was hit, I would be good as dead. Mila would throw my limp body into the ocean, and the monsters would tear me apart, bit by bit.
I circled the building. It was more like a fortress, really, except for the windows. The tall, bare concrete walls appeared to wrap all the way around the island. Clearly whoever had built this place hadn’t been concerned with aesthetics.
As I turned another corner, I came upon a section of New Texas where the ocean looked smooth. No megalodons. The water barely rippled.
Another dart whizzed past me. Mila was closing in. My heart beat hard.
I stared at the water. It was the megalodons or the Lost Boys. The megalodons had teeth; the Lost Boys had guns.
The thought of the calmness that filled my chest whenever I swam made my choice. I dove headfirst into the water. The cuts on my hand stung and bled again in the salty water. As I ducked beneath the surface, I saw that the trash-compacted island was only about eight feet thick.
Massive shadows hurtled toward me. Megalodons swarming. One snapped open its jaws as it approached.
No running. No hiding. Something in my gut told me to just swim. I kicked straight toward the monster’s open jaws and aimed for the back of its throat.