She swung around the corner of the restaurant and trotted south. The jet became louder. A subtle whine beneath that of its engine. Raina threw herself flat and covered her face. A block and a half south, the hotel on the corner vanished in a pulse of light she could see through her closed eyelids. The boom of the hotel's destruction was so loud it was as if the moon had finally chosen to speak. Windows shattered. Flecks of stone pounded into the asphalt.
Before the vomit of debris had settled, let alone its dust, a second weapon struck several buildings further away. The explosion was lesser, but the fire was greater. Throbbing white light that spread as evenly as oil in a heated pan. The entire neighborhood would be consumed.
Lying on the sidewalk, Raina balled her fists. It had been an hour since the first of the bombs. The entire tunnel had caved in. In the scramble to bypass it, they'd lost seven warriors. She'd hoped they had merely become separated, but she no longer gave much weight to that hope. Since then, they had made it less than half a mile south of the airport. So much was on fire. The planes harried the streets like wasps that had scented meat, as obsessive as they were aggressive. Finding a way through this was like trying to navigate through a swamp as the water kept rising around her.
Raina stood, the sandy dust of pulverized concrete falling from her clothes. She retreated around the pancake house. Smoke rose into the sky. Dust fell from it. A thin marine fog streamed from the west, the droplets shimmering with the colors of the flames, which lit the sky as brightly as it had been before the plague. Buildings crackled and creaked. Raina walked swiftly back to the office where the others waited in the darkness of the lobby. The door closed behind her, muffling the noise of the city crumbling around them.
"Jets patrol the southern road," Raina said to the three dozen people standing inside. "We'll have to continue west."
"How close were you?" Mauser touched her face, swabbing a line through the dust. "You look like the guys who walked out of Ground Zero."
She ignored him, reopening the door. The others filed out, gathering on the sidewalk. Raina headed west. Fewer fires that way. But they wouldn't have far to go until they bumped against the sea.
Mauser walked beside her, keeping his voice low. "No more solo missions. Bombs are the greatest egalitarians of all. They don't care who they kill. We can't afford to lose you now."
"If I am taken, you will lead."
"If you're taken, then our people will run for the hills, requiring no leadership whatsoever." He dropped his voice further. "This is why we have warriors, Raina. So they can be spent protecting those who lead them."
Engines cried overhead. Several blocks to the south, the clouds lit up with white. Thunder crackled through the streets.
"You're right," Raina said. "Yet how can I ask them to do what I wouldn't have the heart to do myself?"
"You do, though. You've got more heart than a butcher shop. Which you just proved by your ill-advised venture to shake hands with an explosion. So?"
"Sometimes I think you could talk a bird into giving up its wings." She sighed, stepping over a limb of rubble reaching across the intersection. "Very well. The warriors will take a rotation."
Smoke churned from the south and the east. Ash flapped on the wind, eddying in the intersections and becoming pasted to the mist-slick streets. The bomb strikes were sporadic, yet frequent enough that if Raina led her warriors south, she feared they would be seen. She jogged west, hunting for a hole through the fires, a route the aliens hadn't yet closed off. Yet by the time the coastline spread before them, she'd seen no southbound streets that weren't wreathed in smoke.
She called a halt at the line of houses and condos overlooking the beach. To the north and south, the wide sands appeared empty. With nothing to burn, the fog was untainted by smoke. For the first time in an hour, Raina smelled clean air and the soothing vapors of the ocean.
"We'll try to slip away along the beach," she said. "Once we're away from the fires, we can head straight to San Pedro."
Stephen lifted his hand. He was a young man Raina had only spoken to on a handful of occasions. In them, she'd formed the impression he felt slighted by how few responsibilities he had been given.
"I volunteer," he said. "I'll search the beach."
"Stay close to the houses," Raina said. "If you see anything, come back at once."
He smiled viciously and moved out of cover, jogging south along the bike path at the near end of the sand. Raina's hand tensed on the hilt of her sword. She tried to block out the crackle of flames and the stench of all that burned, straining to hear what the land would tell her, but it was silent.
"Run!" Stephen screamed. "They're here on the beach! Run for—"
Light flashed. His voice cut short. A dark ball tumbled through the air and thudded to the sand. His eyes gleamed vacantly.
Raina ran north up the street, waving her warriors to follow. At the next block, she cut east, putting a second row of houses between her troops and the beach. One block north, the houses quit, replaced by the gross bulk of factories with their deadened gravel yards. A plane slashed through the sky. A bomb burst four blocks behind them, setting fire to an entire neighborhood.
"Raina," Mauser said. "The airport's just ahead."
"I know."
"Yet I can't help but notice we're running toward it."
"The way out isn't shut yet. There are few flames to the north. We'll head past the airport and through the heart of the city."
"A bold stratagem. I suppose if it fails, and we're massacred, at least I'll finally be able to get some rest."
She almost laughed. She was wearing out, too. Earlier that day, they had marched for miles and miles, and though they'd slept a few hours, the advance to the airport and subsequent retreat from it had undone any rest she'd gotten. Her belly was drawn and empty. The others would be no better off.
"Something occurs to me," Mauser said between deep breaths. "It almost feels as though the Swimmers are trying to stop us from heading south. This, to me, might imply that they know where we live."
"And?"
He gave her a grim look. "In that case, they might be assaulting the Dunemarket as well."
The factory piles ceased. Ahead lay nothing but cracked roads and empty, weedy lots, as if an entire neighborhood of houses had grown legs and migrated to new lands. To the right, runways swept toward the airport. Lights shined on the distant figures of aliens moving between machines and their strange orange structures. Raina kept her eyes on the ground ahead, not daring to slow down. Shrubs grew from the earth, green from the winter rains, but most were too small to conceal any lurking aliens.
They neared the edge of the runways. Ahead, the houses nearest the beach were on fire, but only a half mile of vacant fields stood between Raina and the cover of the apartments inland. One last sprint and her warriors would be free.
Raina passed a cluster of shrubs. Among them, a waist-high post stuck from the ground. It was square-sided and blue. Raina's heart seemed to stop. She swerved hard to the left, toward the beach, continuing to run.
Back at the runways, aliens scampered to the west. And a cone of light splayed from the front of a hemispherical vehicle rumbling toward the ocean, diffused by the fog and smoke mingled on the wind.
"Faster!" Raina yelled. "Don't stop until your legs give out!"
She sprinted through the field, insisting to her feet that they would not step in any holes, and to her ankles that they would not turn on any rocks. Ahead, the buildings along the shore flapped with flames. She veered slightly to the east. Back on the runway, the alien infantry and their vehicle—a tank of sorts—were sticking together. But gaining slowly.
Her feet touched asphalt. Three-story apartments faced them. She ran to the right, deeper into the city. The buildings were tucked shoulder to shoulder, with the only gaps at intersections.
A jet cut across the sky. Its belly flashed. Three points of light lanced downward. Toward them. Raina ran to the next intersection, turning
right. Her people were starting to spread out behind her, legs and lungs failing.
One missile slammed into the street they'd just departed, flinging asphalt into the sky. A second hit the corner of the next block up, engulfing it in flames. The third impacted another two blocks beyond that. All were incendiary. Within seconds, thick black smoke filled the street, borne on the breeze from the sea. She hooked right for another block; the shops here were on fire, too, the right-hand side of the street belching smoke as if that was its job. A giant mall lay like a palace at the end of the street. She ran for it, coughing on the hot, harsh fumes of paint varnish that stung her eyes and throat.
The blundering of the tank grew loud enough to be heard over the snap of the fires. Raina entered the mall parking lot. Halfway across it, she skidded to a stop. The smoke gushing over its roof wasn't from the adjoining streets—it was from inside the mall itself. It stretched at least two blocks to either side. Now that they were out from behind the neighboring buildings, she could see the flames licking at its western wing.
Behind them, the whirr of the engines echoed between the buildings. They were trapped on all sides. If they tried to skirt around the building, they'd be caught in the open by the tank and its infantry.
"What do you say?" Mauser put his hand on her shoulder. "A mall parking lot seems like a fitting place for a bunch of Californians to make their last stand, eh?"
"No." She stared at the doors. "The way out is through."
She sprinted forward, belting out a wordless cry of defiance. The others took up her wail and pounded after her. Ash wafted through the lot. Outside the doors, the smoke was the thickest yet.
The doors were locked. Raina drew her katana and bashed the pommel into the glass. It cracked. A second blow sent safety glass cascading to the ground. She jumped through the door, glass grinding under her shoes. The hall ahead was high and wide, yet it was still hazy and hot.
Raina sheathed her sword and swung out her pack, getting out a cloth and a canteen of water. She wet down the cloth and tied it around her mouth. As the others did the same, she tried to count if they were all there, but she realized she didn't know how many there were supposed to be.
At the parking lot entrance, the hemispherical vehicle chugged through the smoke, flanked by the vague shapes of at least thirty Swimmers. Raina ran forward. The hall led to a T-intersection. Knowing the west end of the building was definitely on fire, she headed east. Stale gumballs were spilled across the floor. The smoke thickened. She ran past a dress shop lit from the rear by flames. The others continued to follow her, but she was no longer sure that they should.
She reached another T-intersection, turning left, to the north, hoping for an exit from the heat and the fumes. People coughed steadily. The hall opened to a yawning foyer. Flames crackled around the skylights. Ash sifted from above. The ceiling creaked. Raina dashed across the foyer and into the Macy's on the far end.
Smoke hung among the dresses. There was no clear sign of its source. Sweat ran down Raina's face and back. Purses and makeup and men's shoes strewed the path forward. The choking clouds thickened. She ran through a room of jockey shorts displayed on rippling, headless torsos. The linoleum path bent, carrying her into a wide room of coats. Glass doors stood at the far end, reflecting the fires that burned through the racks of clothes in front of them.
Mauser threw up his hands. "This is absurd!"
Raina moved forward. "There is no other way."
"There must be others! Including some that might not be a raging inferno!"
"The Swimmers could be right behind us," she said. "This building won't last much longer. This will be our last test."
"I highly doubt your authority to make that claim!"
But she was already running forward. Toward the flames. Into the smoke. Her eyes watered. The racks were no more than shapes and heat. Fire licked toward her. She jerked away, her side warming as she neared a display of burning scarves. The smoke thickened until there was nothing but itself.
She banged into a door. It shimmied open. She grabbed its hot metal edge and yanked it wide. Warriors gushed into the parking lot, faces tear-tracked and sooty. When the last was out, Raina dropped hold of the door and ran toward the sea of cars.
She couldn't stop coughing. Embers burned on the sleeve of her shirt. She smelled burned hair that she thought was her own. Yet after the ash and smoke of the mall, it was like breaching the surface of the ocean after almost drowning.
She had passed the test of flame.
* * *
Light struggled to pierce the curtains. The resulting illumination was sickly, yellow like an old bruise. Sunlight suffocated by smoke.
The door creaked open. Mauser entered, puffy-eyed, face dotted red by the burns the embers of the store had inflicted on him. "In keeping with the tradition of the last two days, bad news continues to accumulate. At the moment, we have 29 people. And between those 29 people, we have approximately eight gallons of water, and food for two days."
Raina felt no surprise. They had taken supplies with them to the airport, on their person as well as in the wagons, but in the mad rush to escape death, they'd had to drop anything that was slowing them down. Food and water were only necessary after you had found a route through the flames. Carrying them only encouraged the fire to catch up to you.
"Has Gio returned yet?" she said.
Mauser eased himself into a chair. "He remains out of pocket. Hopefully, he saw an opportunity to get the hell out of here and seized it. More likely, he's dead. Nora isn't back yet, either."
A jet warbled outside. Raina didn't bother to peek out the window. "Have you thought of a plan?"
"Several. But none that clear the bar, however low it may be, of being worth mention."
"Then we will wait until nightfall. See if it is safe to move then. For now, I want another search of the building. Anything edible or drinkable is to be brought here. I assume our ammunition is also light?"
"Correct."
"Then have them search for weapons as well. Including those that don't use ammunition or might not have been intended as weapons."
"Baseball bats and umbrellas. Got it." He made a wry face. "I'm afraid this building has been picked to the bone throughout the years. But as long as we're trapped here, we may as well see what we can turn up."
He exited. Raina's head hurt—she hadn't gotten much sleep and hadn't been awake for long—but she forced herself to think through their situation. After escaping the mall, they had run north for two miles. At that point, one of the older men had collapsed. Many others looked ready to do the same. Having seen no Swimmers since the mall, and with no fires near enough to provide an immediate threat, they had sought refuge in a twelve-story red apartment building.
Those fortunate enough not to have drawn first watch had slept. It was now mid-afternoon. The city lay under a haze of smoke. Jets patrolled on low sweeps, crawling through the sky as slowly as they could. Teams of aliens had been spotted in the streets. They didn't appear to be searching the buildings individually, but Raina didn't know if this would last.
Her people were safe for the moment. But attempting to relocate or return to the Dunemarket would expose them. And unless the scavengers turned up more supplies, they could only hide in the building for so long.
The day ended. The alien patrols did not. Mauser returned to the room with a backpack. From it, he extracted four cans of Coca-Cola, a Three Musketeers bar, a bag of Sabritones chile and lime chips, and a mostly empty sack of dry white rice.
"That's it?" Raina said.
"Frankly, we're lucky we found this much."
"Give everyone their share of rice. Tell them to soak it in water or hold it in their mouth until it grows soft. The rest will be reserved for the scouts." She pointed to the ceiling. "It's dark now. I want tubs placed upon the roof to gather any rain that might fall."
"How long are you intending to stay here?"
"Until the moment it's safe to leave. The ali
ens don't know we're here. If they did, we would be dead. That means they will leave eventually. Until then, we will survive."
There was some thumping around in the hall as warriors lugged pots and pans up to the roof. As the night deepened, Raina climbed to check their progress. Like the night before, it was cloudy, though it was hard to tell if that was from the sea or the smoke of the fires, which still burned across the city. Particularly to the south and east.
Jets crossed the sky at regular intervals. At a gap in the smoke, she was able to make out the mothership in position over the bay. Walt had failed, then. He would be as dead as Geo or Nora.
She returned to the apartment. Mauser was seated at the table inside, a can of Coke in his hand.
"That isn't for you," she said.
"The sugar keeps my brain sharp, allowing me to serve you better." He swirled the soda can. "I'm guessing we're not going anywhere tonight?"
"We'll give it one more day. By then, the warriors will be fully rested. Ready to run and to fight."
It rained overnight. Not much, but every gallon was precious. The water tasted dusty and bitter. The watchers reported that the Swimmers continued to come and go in the streets. With no pattern to their movements, it was impossible to know when it would be safe to leave.
Her stomach burbled constantly. She sucked on her dry rice until it was moist enough to chew. Trapped in the apartment, she felt as though she had already been captured. She was inclined to wait until the next alien patrol, then lead her people out, marching all the way to the hills.
Yet the presence of the aliens, to say nothing of their recent actions, implied that they now wished to slaughter every human who lived in the city. For whatever they might have been doing at the airport, their strategy had changed. To thwart them, she must be as patient and clever as the field mice who know the owls are watching.
With nothing for Raina to do but scan the streets, the day advanced as slowly as the growth of a flower. Alien patrols scuttled between the buildings. That afternoon, Bryson called her to an apartment in the building's south face. He had made it through the ordeals of the airport and the mall with no more than a patch of singed hair, yet he looked as pale and emptied-out as the inside of an orange peel.
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