The full weirdness struck her then. The handrail of the stairs stopped as it reached the level of the upper floor. The steps themselves ended on a splintered half riser.
Astrid stepped out onto what was now a platform, no longer the second floor of a house. Everything was gone. Everything. It was as if a giant had come along with a knife and simply sliced off the top, cutting through walls and plumbing pipe and electrical conduit.
All that was left was Little Pete’s bed. And Little Pete himself.
He coughed twice. He licked his lips. His eyes stared blankly up at open sky.
Astrid followed the direction of his gaze. And there, in the blue morning sky, a puff of gray cotton. Directly above the house.
Brianna was seething. She seethed a fair amount at the best of times, but she was still doing a long, slow burn over the fight with Drake and the fact that Jack had left town without even telling her so she had to hear it from Taylor.
She didn’t much like Taylor. She had once suggested that Taylor should adopt a cool name, like Brianna had with “the Breeze.” “The Teleporter,” maybe. Taylor had laughed at her.
Brianna wasn’t supposed to be on the street. The quarantine was still in effect. But she was thirsty, hungry, humiliated, and furious, and she was looking for trouble.
Or at least a sip of water.
She was giving this whole waiting-around thing a few more minutes and then she was going to run up to Lake Evian herself for a drink. Taylor said the road was dangerous, that the greenies were there. But Brianna didn’t fear flying snakes. Not even flying snakes that peed green bug eggs, or whatever that was all about. She was too fast for some stupid snake, flying or crawling.
Someone had nailed plywood up over a window in town hall.
“What’s that about?” she wondered aloud.
She shrugged and was getting ready to zoom when she heard a sound like chewing. Like a lot of chewing getting rapidly louder. And coming from the window with the—
Splinters pushed out through the bottom of the plywood. They were pushed by something silvery that moved with respectable speed.
Brianna stared up at it for a few seconds and then, quite suddenly, metallic-looking insects, each the size of a small dog, began to force their way through the plywood.
The first to emerge spread beetlelike wings and floated to the ground.
Brianna had plenty of time to observe its gnashing mouth and its antennae, and to be utterly creeped out by eyes the color of rubies.
She could guess what they were. These were the things that Taylor had gotten all freaked out by. The things that had supposedly come out of Hunter’s guts. Only now they were right here and pouring down the wall from the second floor of town hall.
The instant the first bug landed it launched itself at Brianna. She sidestepped it like a matador with a bull.
“You’re quick, I’ll give you that,” Brianna said. “But you’re not the Breeze.”
As one the swarm raced toward her, scythe mandibles slashing and mouthparts gnashing and red eyes blazing.
This was more like it. She could just zoom far away, of course, but she was enjoying this game.
Until Edilio came at a run, unlimbering his automatic rifle and yelling at the top of his lungs.
“Oh, well,” Brianna said. “Time to end this, I guess.”
She unsheathed her big knife and sliced the antennae from the nearest bug. Then, just for show, just because it was a cool move, she somersaulted and landed almost astride another bug. She stabbed it, aiming for the space between its hard-looking wings. Her blade bit the wing instead and did not penetrate.
The bug twirled, fast, very fast. Not fast enough. Brianna stabbed straight for the bloodred eyes and the blade sank deep into one.
The bug stopped moving.
“That’s why you don’t bug the Breeze,” Brianna said.
Edilio had almost arrived and Brianna was pretty sure he would spoil her fun. So she awaited the charge of another bug, dropped low, swept her knife, and sliced through its two front legs. It crashed forward onto its horror-movie face.
BLAM! BLAM!
Edilio fired at one of the bugs that had evidently had enough and was running from the Breeze.
Brianna saw the bullets hit. And she saw them ricochet off the hard wings.
“Head shots!” she yelled to Edilio. “You have to get ’em in the head!”
She had meant to point to the one she killed as an example. But the dead bug was moving.
So was the bug from whom she had subtracted the front legs.
With a frown she pulled out her shotgun. She caught up to the wounded bug, placed the muzzle right in its eerie eyes, and pulled the trigger.
The bug head blew most of the way off. Greenish-black brain goo sprayed.
The bug shook itself like a wet dog. Then kept moving.
“No, no, no,” Brianna said. “I may lose to Drake, but I do not lose to a bunch of bloodshot roaches.”
BLAM! BLAM!
Edilio shot his bug twice more. Then, seeing Brianna hesitate, he yelled, “Try to crush them!”
“With what?”
Edilio looked around helplessly. “I don’t know.”
“They’re getting away!”
The bugs, half a dozen of them, were ignoring Brianna and Edilio now and racing off down the street, away from town.
“They’re too fast for you,” Brianna said.
Edilio looked like he was going to have a stroke. He glanced at the window above, the bugs racing away, and Brianna could have sworn his next move would be to throw up his hands and say, “Forget it, I’m outta here!”