neither of them understood what was happening when, in the same moment, Kate crashed into Martina and sent her sprawling. Martina thought Reynie had somehow managed to strike her a blow. To Reynie it appeared as if Martina had magically transformed into Kate, for his friend now occupied the exact space from which Martina had been so roughly expelled.
Kate caught the flashlight before it hit the floor. “Come on,” she said, pulling him to his feet and out the door, which she banged close as Martina came hurtling across the room toward them. Wedging her foot against the crack at the bottom, Kate calmly handed her flashlight to Reynie and opened her bucket.
Martina slammed herself furiously against the other side. “There’s no point running, you idiots!” she screeched through the door. “You have nowhere to run!”
“Grab a blanket from the closet,” Kate told Reynie, and as he did so she took out her marble pouch. “Roll it up tight and stuff it into the crack,” she said, pointing with the toe of her shoe. “That’ll slow her a bit. Then give me the flashlight and head for the stairs.”
Reynie stuffed the blanket as best he could into the crack between the door and the floor, jerking back once when Martina kicked the door close to his head. Kate pulled her foot away so he could wedge the last bit of blanket, then quickly put it back. When Reynie had finished and retreated to the stairs, Kate switched off the flashlight. Reynie heard a clattering sound. She was backing toward him, emptying her pouch of marbles onto the hallway floor. The door rattled again, and this time they could hear Martina’s cursing more plainly — the door was inching open. The wedged blanket would delay her only briefly.
“Go,” Kate whispered.
They hurried down the steps and into the bedroom where Number Two had been sleeping. The lantern still burned. The shutters were wide open. The bed was empty.
“Oh boy,” Kate said. “Not good.”
“What’s happened? Where is she, Kate?”
“She woke up when Constance screamed. She was still out of her head, and she insisted on going to see what was wrong. I thought I convinced her to stay put, but —” Upstairs there was a shocking thump, followed by the sound of marbles skittering down the stairs. They heard Martina groan. “Quick,” Kate whispered. “Follow me.”
They went out the window. Kate led him behind the house, to the side opposite the path, and together they scurried behind the buildings in the direction of the storm shelter. Suddenly a bright flash came from the direction of the mountain, accompanied by a great crashing sound like a thunderclap. Reynie and Kate flung themselves down behind a heap of wood — a blown roof — and then, recovering, looked for storm clouds overhead. They saw only the full moon in a clear night sky.
“That was an explosion,” Reynie whispered. “What’s going on, Kate?”
“I don’t really know. After I left Number Two I ran straight to the silo, but no one was there, so I ran to check the storm shelter. It was empty. When I came out again I saw that Number Two had opened the shutters and light was just pouring out for anyone to see. I ran back to shut them and check on her, but then I heard you and Martina fighting upstairs. That’s all I — wait, do you hear that?”
Reynie heard it, all right. A rumbling sound, again like thunder, only softer this time and steadier. It traveled from the direction of the meadow, growing louder and louder until the rumbling seemed to come from the ground all around them. Then the Salamander rolled into view. It was coming down the village path. Reynie and Kate crouched behind the fallen roof and peeked out. A great armored beast thirty feet long and ten feet wide, the Salamander surged forward on heavy revolving treads. Its sides were the dark blue-black of gun metal and shone dully in the moonlight. A Ten Man stood in front with his hands atop a large wheel, like a captain at the helm of a ship. Behind him Reynie could just see the top of Sticky’s bald head and his wide, frightened eyes. Whether Constance was with him or not was impossible to tell.
The Salamander rumbled on, moving in the direction of the house they had just fled. They heard Martina calling out to the Ten Man in an angry, urgent tone, and the rumbling stopped. Only then could they hear the hum of the Salamander’s powerful engine.
Reynie looked at Kate. “If I distract them, can you —?”
“You know I can,” she said, her eyes flashing. “Go. We’ll meet you in the shelter.”
Reynie took off running back the way they’d come, keeping behind the buildings. When he saw the Salamander he yelled “Over here!” and kept running. He dashed all the way to the back of the last building in the village, the one facing the mountainside. There he drew up short. Another Ten Men was strolling down the slope toward the village, briefcase in hand and a contented expression on his face, as if he’d just completed a most satisfactory transaction. Behind him lay a pile of rubble that used to be the tunnel entrance. That explained the explosion they’d heard.
Reynie pulled back into the shadows, flattening himself against the building’s rear wall. He listened. He heard no voices, which probably meant he was being stalked. Peeking around the corner, Reynie watched the Ten Man walking down from the collapsed tunnel. Perhaps he would unwittingly reveal something. A frown, a wave, a look of acknowledgment — anything might help Reynie know which way to run. He wanted to draw attention once more, then make his way back to the shelter, running for all he was worth. If Kate could snatch Sticky and Constance away, she was fast enough to drag them into the shelter in a matter of seconds. The question was whether Reynie could make it himself.
The Ten Man was about fifty yards away, and in the strong moonlight Reynie could see his face fairly well. He seemed perfectly unconcerned about anything. Just another ordinary well-dressed businessman carrying a briefcase down a hill, in the middle of the night, into an abandoned village on a forgotten island. The sort of thing one saw in bad dreams. Reynie stared and stared. The Ten Man was wearing glasses, and when he glanced up the lenses glinted, reflecting the moonlight.
But even as the answer came to him, it also occurred to Reynie that the Ten Man had looked up for a reason. And was still looking up, in fact. What was he looking at? Something high up at the other end of the village. The grain silo. It had to be. Someone had probably climbed onto the roof for a better view — trying to discover Reynie’s hiding place. And sure enough, just then Reynie heard the Ten Man in the Salamander calling, “See anything?”
“Not yet,” Martina called back. She was up on the silo, temporarily out of the chase. There would be no better moment.
Reynie burst from behind the building and dashed over to the path. Startled, the Ten Man in glasses cried out — then laughed and shook his head as if some cute, wayward bunny had bolted its cage. He seemed in no particular
