He shakes his head, and from behind us we hear the church doors thrust open.
“He isn’t here,” Crayton says, and just before he turns around to begin firing, the sound of squealing tires pierces the air. The plastic covering that had kept the truck concealed falls off and its back side fishtails as Héctor, wide-eyed behind the wheel, floors it. He comes racing our way and slams on the brakes when he reaches us. The truck screeches to a halt, and Héctor reaches across the seat and throws open the passenger-side door. I toss my Chest beside Héctor, and Ella and I jump in. Crayton stays out just long enough to empty his gun at the Mogadorians emerging from the church door. Several drop, but there are far too many to get them all. Crayton jumps in and slams the door, and the tires bite into the cobblestones in an attempt to find traction. There’s the sound of another rocket nearing, but the tires catch and we go racing down Calle Principal.
“I love you, Héctor,” I say. I can’t help it; the sight of him behind the wheel fills me with such warmth that it brims over the edge.
“I love you, too, Marina. I always told you, stick with Héctor Ricardo; he’ll take care of you.”
“I never doubted it once,” I say, which is a lie; I had doubted it this morning.
We reach the bottom of the hill and fly past the signs announcing the town limits.
I twist around to peer out the back window as Santa Teresa quickly fades behind us. I know it’s the last time I’ll ever see it and though I’ve waited years to leave, it now holds the sacredness of being Adelina’s last resting place. Soon the town is gone, left behind.
“Thank you, Señorita Marina,” Héctor says.
“For what?”
“I know it was you who cured my dear mother. She told me it was you, that you were her angel; and I’ll never be able to repay you for it.”
“You already have, Héctor. I was very happy to help.”
He shakes his head. “I haven’t yet, but I’m sure going to try.”
While Crayton refills both clips and takes inventory of his ammo, Héctor navigates the windy and unpredictable road. We bounce and skid along the sharp turns and sudden hills. But despite the speed, it doesn’t take long for a convoy of vehicles to be seen in the distance behind us.
“Don’t worry about them,” Crayton says. “Just get us to the lake.”
Even though the truck is barreling down the road, the convoy closes the gap. After ten minutes, a flash of light sails just over the truck and explodes into the countryside ahead of us. Héctor instinctively jerks his head down.
“My God!” he says.
Crayton turns around and breaks the back window with the butt of his gun, then fires. The lead vehicle is upended, which makes us all cheer in celebration.
“That should keep them far enough back,” Crayton says, quickly reloading the gun’s clip.
And it does for a few minutes, but as the road grows more precarious and twists down the mountain at sharp declines, the vehicles catch right back up to us. Héctor mutters under his breath as he whips around each bend, the gas pedal buried, the truck’s back tires swinging frighteningly over the edge of the towering cliff.
“Careful, Héctor,” Crayton says. “Don’t kill us before we get there. At least give us a chance.”
“Héctor is in control,” Héctor replies, bringing no comfort whatsoever to Crayton, who keeps a white-knuckled grip on the headrest in front of him.
The only refuge is the road’s perpetual turns, which keep the Mogadorians from getting a straight shot, though they try anyway.
As we race around a particularly sharp bend, Héctor can’t turn us quickly enough and we go off the edge of the road. At a seventy-five-degree angle, the truck races down the dense mountainside, smashing through saplings, bouncing off boulders, barely avoiding thick trees. Ella and I scream. Crayton yells as he flies forward and slams into the windshield. Héctor doesn’t say a word; he clenches his teeth and maneuvers us around and over obstacles until we miraculously land on another road. The truck’s hood is severely dented and smoking, but the engine is still running.
“This is a, uh, shortcut,” Héctor says. He tries the gas pedal, and we quickly rumble down the new road.
“I think we lost them,” says Crayton, looking up the cliff.
I pat Héctor’s shoulder and laugh. Crayton sticks the barrel of his gun out the back window and waits.
Eventually the lake comes into view. I wonder why Crayton believes the lake will save us.
“What’s the big deal about the lake?” I ask.
“You didn’t think I’d come to find you with just Ella, did you?”
For a moment I think to tell him that up until a few hours ago I thought he had come to kill me. But soon the Mogadorians appear behind us again, and Crayton turns around while Héctor’s eyes dart up to the rearview mirror.
“This is going to be close,” Crayton says.
“We’ll get out of it, Papa,” Ella says, looking at Crayton; and hearing her call him that fills my heart with affection. He smiles warmly at her, then nods. Ella squeezes my hand. “You’ll love Olivia,” she says to me.
“Who’s Olivia?” I ask, but she doesn’t get a chance to answer before the road turns at a ninety-degree angle and declines sharply towards the lake ahead. Ella tenses in my arms as the road ends, and Héctor barely lets up on the gas as the truck rams straight through a chain-link gate that surrounds the lake. We hit a slight bump, and the truck’s tires leave the ground entirely before landing with a thud and bouncing on the shore. Héctor speeds straight for the water, and just before we reach it, he slams on the brakes and brings us skidding to a stop. Crayton shoulders open the passenger-side door and dashes towards the lake, rushing straight into the water until it reaches his knees. With the gun still in his left hand, he hurls an object as far as he can with his right and begins muttering something in a language I don’t understand.
“Come on!” he screams, thrusting his hands up in the air as though offering encouragement. “Come on, Olivia!”
Héctor, Ella, and I rush out and run up near him. I have the Chest under my arm and in an instant I see that the water has begun to crest and bubble in the lake’s middle.
“Marina, do you know what a Chimæra is?”
But I don’t get to answer, because just then a lone Mogadorian vehicle, a tanklike Humvee with a gun mounted on top, erupts onto the scene and speeds down the hill. As it comes right at us, in the water, Crayton unloads a barrage of bullets into the windshield. The vehicle instantly goes out of control, crashing straight into the back of Héctor’s truck. It creates a deafening bang, followed by the crush of grinding metal and breaking glass. As the dozens of other vehicles in the convoy rumble down the last hill and begin firing, the world erupts in fire and smoke as explosions rock the beach, causing all four of us to hit the ground. Sand and water rain down, and we scramble back to our feet. Crayton snags me by the collar.
“Get out of here!” he yells.
I take Ella’s hand and we run as fast as we can around the left side of the lake. Crayton begins firing; but it’s not one gun that I hear but two, and I can only hope it’s Héctor’s finger pulling the second trigger.
We race towards a cluster of trees sloping down from the mountainside, jutting out all the way to the water’s bank. Our footsteps slap on the wet stones, and Ella’s accelerated pace matches my own. Gunfire continues to rattle through the air; and just as it lets up, a loud animal roar booms over our head, causing me to stop short. I turn to look at the creature able to create such a paralyzing call, knowing it’s not of this world. A long, muscular neck protrudes ten or fifteen stories out of the water, the flesh a gleaming gray. At the end of it, a giant lizard head separates its pebbled lips to show an enormous set of teeth.
“Olivia!” Ella cheers.
Olivia rears her head and lets loose another earsplitting roar, and in the middle of it, a series of high-pitched yipping sounds roll down from the mountain. I look up and see a pack of small beasts descending towards the lake.
I gasp. “What are those?” I ask Ella.
“Krauls. Lots of them.”
Olivia’s neck is fully emerged and thirty stories high now, and as the rest of her body surfaces, her neck widens and her torso thickens. The Mogadorians immediately fire at her, and Olivia slams her head down on several at a time, creating large piles of ash. I can see the dark figures of Crayton and Héctor, both with guns blazing. The Mogadorians fall back as a hundred krauls enter the lake and swim towards Olivia. The creatures leap out of the water and attack. Many claw their way up Olivia’s back and rip at the base of her neck. The lake water is soon streaked with blood.
“No!” Ella screams.
She tries running back, but I grab hold of her arm.
“We can’t go back,” I say.
“Olivia!”
“That’s suicide, Ella. There’re too many.”
Olivia roars in pain. She whips her head at her sides and back, trying to crush or bite the black krauls that have blanketed her. Crayton aims his gun at the beasts, but he lowers his weapon when he realizes he would most likely shoot Olivia in the process. He and Héctor instead fire on the army of Mogadorians lining up and preparing for a new attack.
Olivia wavers left and right, howls at the mountains, and backs herself up into the middle of the lake and slowly sinks in a wave of red. The krauls detach and swim towards the Mogadorians.
“No!” I hear Crayton yell above the chaos. I watch him try to enter the lake but Héctor pulls him back onto the shore.
“Duck!” Ella screams, pulling me down by the arm. A whoosh of air passes over us. A giant black hoof smashes the ground next to me, and I look up to see a horned monster. Its head is as large as Héctor’s truck, and when the giant roars, my hair flaps in my face.
“Come on!” I yell. We race towards the trees.
“Split up,” Ella says. I nod and dart left, towards an ancient beech tree with gnarled limbs. I set the Chest down and instinctively lift my hands and then pull them apart. To my surprise the beech trunk opens, creating a hollow space that looks just big enough for two people and a Chest to fit.
I look over my shoulder to see the creature chasing Ella through a dense line of trees. I toss the Chest in the open trunk, and with telekinesis I pick up two trees and send them like missiles at the creature’s back. They splinter against its dark skin with a loud crash, knocking it to its knees. I run and grab Ella’s shaking hand, pulling her in the other direction. The beech tree with my Chest comes into view.
“The tree, Ella! Get inside!” I yell. She sits atop the Chest and tries to make herself as compact as she can, shrinking down to a younger age.
“That’s a piken, Marina! Get in!” she pleads; and before she can say another word, I close the trunk up around her, leaving just enough room so she can see.
“I’m sorry,” I say through the small crevice, hoping the giant didn’t see where I’ve stashed the Chest and hidden my friend.
