I pick Meredith up immediately, knocking her hat to the floor. She’s so scared, she doesn’t even mention it. I’m so scared, I don’t even notice my ribs. Mel presses herself against us, arms wrapping around me and Meredith.
“What was that?!?” Mel screams.
“We’ve got to get out of here!” I scream back.
“They’re coming!” Meredith yells and we turn down to the rows in front of us.
A tidal wave of panicked parents and panicked little girls is flowing over the seats up the wall of the amphitheatre.
Coming right at us.
There’s no time to even think. I turn with Meredith in my arms, and we run. I climb up over row after row, the seats above us quickly vacating, thank God. Mel is behind us, shielding Meredith from any more debris. I see a few bloody faces as we rush on and I can only wonder if there’s anyone really badly hurt, but there’s no time for that as I keep climbing.
We get stuck behind a frantic mom, trying to herd three girls in front of her. Without breaking stride, Mel picks one of the girls up. The mom, with what seems to be superhuman strength, picks up the other two and we all climb together, as that’s still faster than the clogged aisles. We’re lucky by a factor of a thousand that the biggest exits are at the back of the amphitheatre, wide staircases heading down into the green fields of the fairgrounds. Me and Mel and the woman reach the top of one and
scramble down the steps, only just barely able to stay standing in the rush of people.
“There!” Mel yells and starts heading towards a bit of the fairgrounds that have been left wooded, with a clearing in the middle for picnics and barbecues. Most of the crowd pour out past the confused news crews to the parking lot, but we swerve to the side with some others, finally stopping in the trees, huddling together. Mel puts down the girl she picked up and the mom hugs her in with the other two, saying, “Thank you thank you thank you thank you,” to Mel.
I set Meredith down, and she instantly throws up. My adrenaline is so high my hands are shaking uncontrollably, but I do my best to rub her on the back. “It’s okay, Meredith, we’re out and we’re going home right now.”
“Mikey,” Mel says. “Look.”
Hovering over the amphitheatre, against the now-setting sun, a pillar of blue light is disappearing from where the explosion was.
“It wasn’t a bomb,” Mel says. “It was them. Whoever the hell they are.”
In the past, there’s been collateral damage from whatever the indie kids are involved in. But it’s hard to think of “collateral damage” when it’s me and Mel and freakin’ Meredith and almost two thousand little girls.
Whatever it is has just gotten worse. A lot, lot worse.
“Aren’t you Alice Mitchell’s daughter?” we hear.
Cynthia, the bitter little blogger who’s always attacking my mother and who tried to drag Mel’s past into the press conference, is standing in the clearing, pad in her hand, filming us. “You are, aren’t you? The anorexic one.”
Another camera crew from the big city affiliate has seen her and is rushing over to us as well, trying to find someone who’ll tell them what happened.
“Where’s your mother?” Cynthia sneers at my sister. “Why isn’t she here to protect her children?”
Mel barely hesitates. She steps forward, snatches the pad out of Cynthia’s hands, and punches her right across the face.
CHAPTER THE FIFTEENTH, in which the Prince explains to Satchel that the Immortal Crux, which allows passage between worlds, depends on the amulets; the one she wears is missing from it, and though it protects her, its absence is causing holes to rip in the boundaries between the Immortals’ world and hers; the life force – “you would see it as a kind of blue light, but it would burn you, Satchel, it would burn you right through” – is spilling out and causing damage, including the accident at the amphitheatre which killed Satchel’s friend Madison; “Should I give it back?” Satchel asks, wanting to save lives, but giving it back would fully power the Immortal Crux and only make the march of the Immortals into her world unstoppable; it’s an impossible dilemma.