“I think she got free,” Robbie said.
“But if she’d gotten free she would have come for us,” Alex said.
“So what’s it like out there now?” Niko interrupted.
All of us fell silent to listen.
Mr. Appleton took a drink off his water bottle. He looked greenish and not at all well.
“It’s dangerous,” Mr. Appleton said. “Most people are staying inside. Those who have no water are out, trying to find it. The O-affected are out and raving mad. They lie in wait and attack foragers.”
“There’s some cadets, from the Academy, that have made, like, a gang,” Robbie added. “They have been attacking people’s houses, if they think people are inside with food and water.”
“All in all,” Mr. Appleton said, “You are the luckiest children in Monument, Colorado. Very lucky to be holed up here with enough food and water to last you for… months?”
“Years,” Alex said. “We’ve been looking at the inventory. I think we could stay here for up to twenty to twenty-four months, given the supplies we have. Fresh oxygen and power are bigger issues than food and water, for us.”
Mr. Appleton rubbed his hand over his forehead. He was sweating.
“Niko,” he said. “Can you show me to the latrines? I think I ate too quickly.”
Niko stood and offered Mr. Appleton his arm.
He led him toward the Dump.
“You guys, get some beds set up,” Niko directed.
“Yes, sir, Niko, sir,” Brayden snapped.
Robbie smiled at Brayden.
“He’s pretty serious, huh?” Robbie asked quietly.
“He’s our very own dictator,” Brayden answered.
“That’s not fair,” Josie protested.
“Come on,” I said to Alex. “Let’s set up the beds.”
Alex and I made a space in a back part of the Automotive aisle with air mattresses, sheets, blankets, and a little battery-powered floor lamp and flashlights to help them get around in the darkened store.
Niko and Brayden came over with the men a couple of minutes after we’d finished.
Mr. Appleton looked a little better. He had some antibiotic foil packs in his hand.
“Thank you,” Mr. Appleton said. “I’ll sleep for a few hours now, I think. And you have my word, tomorrow morning, we leave.”
“Yes,” Niko said. “That’s our deal.”
Robbie helped Mr. Appleton to lower down onto the wobbly air mattress.
“I have to hand it to you kids,” Mr. Appleton said, looking up at us. “The way you have arranged things here is smart. Ingenious, actually.”
Hmmm. How did this make us feel? It was dark and the only light came from the one table lamp, so I couldn’t see the other kids’ reactions but I thought I saw Niko cross his arms.
He really didn’t like these men.
I felt Alex, who was standing next to me, straighten up somewhat. I could tell he was pleased by the compliment.
And Alex deserved praise. He
Brayden, I’m sure, was rolling his eyes.
I felt a profound uneasiness.
The compliments seemed like the type of compliments that come when you’re doing something and then a grown-up comes and takes it over from you.
Robbie turned to follow us away.
“Aren’t you going to rest?” Mr. Appleton asked.
“Me? Naw. I want to get a look at that bus,” Robbie answered.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
BUSES HAVE TYPES, TOO
As we neared the kitchen, and the bus, the kids swarmed out to greet us with a happy, fluffy Luna.
She was white under all that grime!
Robbie laughed. He had such a broad, good-natured laugh.
“I had no idea you were white,
All the little kids talked at once, regaling him with the adventures of giving Luna a bath.
I looked at the kitchen. A kiddie-pool full of filthy water stood in the center of the dining area of the Pizza Shack. Water was everywhere, along with towels, empty shampoo bottles. It was a mess. Whatever—it had been an activity that bought us enough time to hear the outsiders’ story.
Josie came and stood next to me.
“I’ll help clean it up,” she offered.
“Good,” I said.
Robbie went over to the bus, so all the kids, big and little, followed him. He walked around it with an appraising eye, Luna still in his arms. Then he let her down and got on his back and slid under the front of it.
“
Many pairs of little feet went pattering off to fulfill his request.
Apparently there are several types of school buses—the one that had delivered us all safely into the Greenway was a type D.
Now, the high school bus had been a type C, that’s the kind that has an engine up front. The front of it has a hood and an engine. You can open the hood and fix the engine the way you would any car.
But a type D bus has a flat face.
The engine is under the body of the bus. And that’s why Mrs. Wooly’s bus weathered the storm so well. And that’s why it could still run—the hail hadn’t damaged the engine one bit.
The tires were another story.
There were six tires total on the bus. Two up front and four in the back—two on each rear axle.
One of the front tires was flat.
“This one is no problem,” Robbie said, showing Niko. “We patch it with a kit. They have them in Automotive. Then we reinflate.”
Then he walked around and shone the flashlight under the bus, at one of the back sets of tires.
“But the inside one, here, see it’s melted? That’s not good.”
The inside tire was collapsed and had a gaping, melted hole.
“Can the bus run on just the outside tire?” Alex asked.
“Maybe for a short distance,” Robbie answered.
“Well, thanks for taking a look at it,” Niko said.
“I’ll try to patch it,” Robbie said. “I’ll try this crazy thing I saw on TV—they filled a tire with tennis balls and then used fiberlace.”
“Cool!” Brayden said.
“We should fix the bus up,” Robbie said. “Change the oil, tune up the engine. You could have it running in case of an emergency.”
“That’s a really good idea,” Alex said.
“It would probably take more than one day, though,” Niko said. “Thanks anyway.”
