MARY TERRAFINO CHECKED her watch. Minutes.
It was coming. Coming so soon.
“I just want you kids to know that I love you,” Mary said. “Alice, back from the cliff. It’s not time yet. We have to wait so that you can go with me.”
“Where are we going?” Justin asked.
“Home,” Mary said. “To our real homes. To our moms and dads.”
“How can we do that?” Justin asked.
“They’re waiting.” Mary pointed. “Just outside the wall. The Prophetess has shown us the way.”
“My mommy?” Alice asked.
“Yes, Alice,” Mary said. “Everybody’s mommy.”
“Can Roger come, too?” Justin asked.
“If he hurries,” Mary said.
“But he’s sick. His lungs are hurt.”
“Then he’ll come another time,” Mary said. Her patience was fraying. How much longer would she have to be this person? How much longer would she have to be Mother Mary?
Other kids were pressing closer now. They’d been driven up the hill, right up against the FAYZ wall by battles going on below. Drake. Zil. Evil people, awful people, ready to hurt and kill. Ready to hurt or kill these very kids unless Mary saved them.
“Soon,” Mary crooned.
“I don’t want to go without Roger,” Justin said.
“You have no choice,” Mary said.
Justin shook his head firmly. “I’m going to get him.”
“No,” Mary said.
“Yes. I am,” Justin said stubbornly.
“Shut up! I said NO!” Mary screamed. She grabbed Justin and yanked him hard by the arm. His eyes filled with tears. She shook him hard and kept screaming, “NO, NO! You’ll do as I say!”
She let him go and he fell to the ground.
Mary drew herself back, stared down in horror. What had she just done?
What had she done?
It would be okay, all of it okay, once the time came. She would be gone from this place. Gone and gone and gone, and all the children would come with her, they always did, and then they would be free.
It was for their own good.
“Mary!” It was John. How he’d made it past the fights down the road and reached her she could not imagine. Yet, here he was.
“Children,” John said. “Come with me.”
“No one is leaving,” Mary said.
“Mary…” John’s voice broke. “Mary…”
Sanjit was torn between staring in blank horror at the cliff wall just inches away from the tip of the whirling rotors, and the awful sight of a girl, the one named Penny, hanging in midair above those same rotors.
Caine stood at the top of the cliff, unafraid of falling. He wasn’t a guy who could fall, Sanjit realized. Caine could step off the edge and like the Road Runner simply hang in midair, beep beep, and zip back to solid ground.
Not so the girl named Penny.
The other one, Diana, was pleading with him. What was she saying? Drop the girl? Crash the helicopter?
Sanjit didn’t think so. He’d seen something very wrong in Diana’s dark eyes, but not murder.
Murder lived in Caine’s eyes.
Sanjit had the cyclic pulled all the way back. The rotors wanted to pull back from the cliff, but Caine would not let it go.
Diana stepped backward. Walked with halting steps to the cliff edge.
“No!” Sanjit cried, but she was falling, falling.
It all happened in a heartbeat. Diana stopped in midair.
The helicopter was released from Caine’s grip. It jerked suddenly backward.
Penny fell. The rotor blades retreated.
She fell past the rotors safely and Diana floated in midair and the helicopter roared backward like it had been on the end of a stretched bungee cord.
Diana was thrown more than lifted back onto the grass. She rolled and sprawled and looked up just in time for Sanjit to meet her eyes for a split second before he had his hands full.
The helicopter was moving backward but falling, like it intended to ram its tail rotor straight into the deck of the yacht below.
The other thing, the other thing, lift it lift it twist it twist it and up the helicopter went. It spun wildly around as Sanjit once more forgot the pedal but it was rising. Spinning and rising and spinning faster and faster and now Sanjit was jerked wildly as he fought to find the pedals.
Clockwise, slower, slower, pause, counterclockwise faster, faster, slower, pause.
The helicopter hovered in midair. But far from the cliff now. Out over the sea. And twice the height of the cliff.
Sanjit was rattling with nerves, teeth chattering. Virtue was still praying, gibberish mostly, and not English gibberish.
The kids were in the back screaming.
But for a few heartbeats at least, the helicopter was not falling and not spinning. It was rising.
“One thing at a time,” Sanjit told himself. “Stop going up.” He loosened his death grip, and the twist grip went back toward neutral. He kept the pedals right where they were. He did not move the cyclic.
The helicopter was pointing toward the mainland. Not toward Perdido Beach, exactly, but toward the mainland.
Virtue stopped praying. He looked at Sanjit with huge eyes. “I think I pooped a little.”
“Just a little?” Sanjit said. “Then you’ve got nerves of steel, Choo.”
He aimed and pushed the cyclic forward.
The helicopter roared toward the mainland.
Brittney stared down at Edilio. He was facedown in the sand.