Mary shook her head helplessly. “I only have…I’m almost out of time.”
Nerezza put a hand on her shoulder. “Mary. You will soon be free. You will be in the loving arms of your mother.”
“Please,” Mary pleaded.
“But you have one last great service left to perform. Mary: you must not leave the children behind to the madness that is coming!”
“What am I supposed to do?”
“Lead them now to the Prophetess. She waits in her place. Take the children there. To the cliff above the beach.”
Mary hesitated. “But…I have no food for them there. I won’t have diapers…I won’t…”
“Everything you need will be there. Trust the Prophetess, Mary. Believe in her.”
Mary heard a terrible scream. A wailing sound of terror that shifted to agony. From the far side of the plaza, out of view.
Children were running. Panicked.
“The FAYZ for humans!” Zil shouted.
A gun went off. Mary could see the littles cowering, terrified.
“Children!” Mary commanded. “Come with me. Follow me!”
Children who had lost parents and grandparents, who had lost friends and school and church. Who had been abandoned, neglected, starved, and terrorized had learned to trust only one voice: Mother Mary.
“Come with me, children!”
The children rushed to her. And Mary, a stumbling shepherd, led them away from the plaza toward the beach.
Brittney had come to the plaza, drawn there not by the smell of food, or by the crowd, but by a force she didn’t understand.
Now she saw children running and screaming.
“Is it the demon?” she asked her angel brother.
“Yes,” Tanner answered. “You are.”
Brittney saw children running. Running. From her?
She saw Edilio, his face a mask of dread, coming out of the day care, coming toward her. He was staring at her, eyes wide, the whites visible all around.
She did not understand why he should be afraid of her. She was an angel of the Lord. She had been sent to fight the demon.
But now she found herself unable to move. Unable to will her limbs to walk where she wanted, unable to look where she wanted to look. It was so like being dead, she thought, memories of cold earth in her ears and mouth.
Edilio took aim at her.
No, she wanted to say. No. But the word would not come.
“Drake,” Edilio said.
He was going to shoot her. Would it hurt? Would she die? Again?
But a mob of fleeing children rushed between them. Edilio raised the gun skyward.
“Run,” Tanner urged her.
She ran. But it was hard to run when her arm was growing so long and her consciousness was shriveling as another mind shoved hers aside.
Astrid saw and heard the panic.
Saw the littles running with Mary, a panicky gaggle of stumbling, screaming preschoolers, babies in the arms of Mary’s helpers, all racing from the square toward the beach.
In a flash too many images to process.
Zil, with a shotgun in his hands, aiming it in the air.
Edilio just emerging from the day care.
Nerezza smiling calmly.
And Brittney, from behind, facing away from Astrid.
Little Pete playing his game with feverish intensity. Fingers frantic. Like he had never played before.
And then, Nerezza moving quickly, straight toward Astrid, determined. She had something in her hand, a crowbar.
Was Nerezza going to attack her?
Insane!
Nerezza raised the crowbar and brought it down with sudden, shocking force.
Little Pete toppled forward onto his game without making a sound.
Nerezza bent over and yanked Little Pete onto his back.
Astrid cried, “No!” But Nerezza didn’t seem to hear her. She raised the crowbar again, this time aiming the pointed end at Little Pete.
Astrid stuck out a hand, too slow, too clumsy. The crowbar came down hard on Astrid’s wrist.
The pain was shocking. Astrid screamed in pain and fury. But Nerezza had no interest in her, pushed at her with her free hand like she was a minor irritation. And once again aimed the crowbar at Little Pete. But this time Nerezza was off-balance and her blow went wild. The crowbar stabbed the dirt beside Little Pete’s head.
Astrid was up and shoved Nerezza back a step.
“Stop it!” Astrid cried.
But Nerezza wasn’t going to stop. And she wasn’t going to be distracted. She was after Little Pete with fanatic focus.
Astrid punched her as hard as she could. Her fist connected with Nerezza’s collar bone, not her face. Not enough to hurt the dark girl, but enough to once again throw off her aim.
Now at last Nerezza turned with icy rage on Astrid.
“Fine. You want to go first?” Nerezza slashed horizontally with the crowbar and hit Astrid in the stomach. Astrid doubled over but rushed at Nerezza, head down like a bull, blinded by pain.
She hit Nerezza squarely and knocked her on her back. The crowbar flew from Nerezza’s grip and landed in the trampled grass.
Nerezza, quick, squirmed to grab it. Astrid punched her in the back of the head. Then again and again, but Nerezza’s hand was nevertheless just inches from the crowbar.
Astrid hauled herself along Nerezza’s back, her weight slowing the girl down. Astrid did all she could think to do: she bit Nerezza’s ear.
Nerezza’s howl of pain was the most satisfying thing Astrid had ever heard.
She clamped her jaw together as hard as she could, yanked her head back and forth, ripping at the ear, tasting blood in her mouth and pounding with her fists at the back of Nerezza’s head.