on Lake Mead, and Jack changed to another station.
What
This was the closest terrorist attack to Mount Pleasant yet—maybe only five hours away. He’d gone to Powell with a scout troop a couple of years ago and had caught the biggest fish of his life—a twelve-pound striped bass.
Could the lake really be gone? A wave of nausea washed over Jack, and he stepped outside the truck, leaning on the open door and sucking in a breath of fresh air. He could see through the massive barn doors below him, could see the kids dancing carefree while the world was falling apart. Shadows ran playfully on the lawn and in and out of the trees. His friends were down there.
His former friends.
It used to be the three of them—Jack Cooper, Aubrey Parsons, and Matt Ganza. Jack was always with one of them, for as long as he could remember. Aubrey was the smart one, tutoring Jack in almost every subject—except history, the one class he loved. Matt had never seemed to have a care in the world, except for sports, but he’d always been terrible at them. Now, suddenly he was the star of everything. Went from benchwarmer to starting quarterback. The basketball coach had already promised him a starting spot on the varsity team. He—regular old Ganza—was at the dance tonight with Nicole Samuelson, the homecoming queen.
And Aubrey. She was too good for anyone now. Last year, Jack had actually gotten the courage to ask her to junior prom, but she’d said no. She’d cried, told him she would if she could just afford a dress. And then she’d been too embarrassed to ever talk about it again—or to let him bring it up.
So now there was only Jack. Jack the friggin’ janitor, waiting to clean up once everyone else had their fun.
He wondered if any of the kids he could see were Ganza or Aubrey. One of the guys sitting on the wall, one of the couples holding hands, the girl in the electric-blue dress.
None of them knew about Lake Powell. He wondered if he should go down and tell them.
In the distance, a long line of headlights approached the barn.
He pushed the door closed quickly, dousing the light in the cab. He climbed up into the bed of the truck and peered through the darkness ahead, trying to get a better look.
FOUR
AUBREY HAD ONLY MADE IT a few yards when something stopped her. There were two people in the shadows, watching the boys. Had they heard what Nate had said—what he had insinuated about her?
It was too dark to make out more than their vague shapes, but they were big. Obviously boys. Would Nate’s comments spread even faster? Nicole could stop the gossip. Aubrey had to talk to her.
But if Nicole was going to stop the rumors, she’d have to know who had heard them. Aubrey walked toward the side of the barn, where giant timbers jutted out from the wall, creating a wide dark alcove. She felt light- headed and unsteady. She’d been invisible for too long. As she went on there were more—dark shapes hidden in the shadows all around her, all around the barn.
Aubrey took a step back, and barely caught herself from falling.
It wasn’t just boys in the shadows. They were three soldiers—two crouched and one standing, all of them fully dressed in combat gear. They wore helmets and large goggles, and a black cloth covered their noses and mouths like a ski mask. The two men crouching held rifles at the ready, while the one standing had his slung over one shoulder.
Was this some kind of prank? The uniforms looked too real, and no high school student would be stupid enough to use guns as a joke—not with what was going on all over the country. Aubrey backed away, and then turned and ran toward where she’d seen the first dark shapes.
They were soldiers, too.
Her head was spinning. She needed to get back inside.
What if they weren’t soldiers? What if they were terrorists in disguise?
She lifted her dress up almost to her knees and jogged toward the front doors. A caravan of school buses was pulling into the parking lot, led by a pair of army jeeps.
The place was being surrounded, and she didn’t know why. She needed to tell someone. Nicole would know what to do.
Cautiously, she stepped through the open doors of the barn, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. The music was still playing and everyone was dancing and laughing.
She pushed through the crowd, bumping into more people than she normally would have, but she couldn’t slow to be more careful. Besides, no one would notice her anyway. She hadn’t reappeared. They might feel a movement, but to them it would seem like nothing more than a muscle twitch.
Near the speakers at the far side of the room, she spotted Nicole surrounded by a circle of girls. As Aubrey reached the group she started fading back in, and wormed her way into the center, becoming fully visible as she did.
“Aubrey,” Nicole said, shouting over the blaring speakers. “You look terrible.”
“I know. Can we go talk?”
“Later.”
“No,” Aubrey said, taking Nicole’s arm. “Now.”
Suddenly, the music stopped, and the dimmed lights were brought up to full strength. There were groans from the students and a few shouted at the DJ to turn things back on.
Wishing she were taller, Aubrey jumped up to look over the others’ heads toward the door. She couldn’t see any of the soldiers yet.
“What’s going on?” Nicole asked.
Aubrey turned to her. “I don’t know. I think we might be evacuated. The army’s outside.”
“The army?”
“I hope it’s the army,” Aubrey said under her breath.
A man appeared from the back of the barn—a soldier in camouflage, but not wearing all the gear or a helmet. He walked to the DJ table and took the microphone.
“I apologize for the inconvenience,” the man said. “But we have to cut the evening short.” He was smiling, but his eyes were grim and cold.
“They’re all over outside,” Aubrey whispered to Nicole. Aubrey’s arms and legs felt weak, and her head was still fuzzy.
“First, I want to assure you that there is no reason for alarm,” the man said. “When I give the order, we’ll simply have you exit the building in a quiet and orderly fashion. The school district has sent buses which will take you back into town.”
There was an outcry from the crowd, and the soldier motioned for everyone to be quiet. “In the interest of public safety, I’m going to need you to follow my instructions.”
Aubrey craned her neck to look back toward the wide barn door, and saw at least a dozen soldiers. A few more had appeared from a side hallway. They were spreading out in the room, surrounding the students.
“Please,” the soldier said, though his voice made the word sound like an order rather than a request, “walk in a single file line and keep your hands at your sides.”
From over by the main door, Aubrey could hear a soldier bark a command at the students. The room was humming with whispers.
Nicole touched Aubrey’s hand, her eyes frightened. “You don’t think they’re here for . . . you, right?”
Aubrey paused. She hadn’t even thought about that. “What? Of course not. It’s about the terrorists.”
Nicole looked nervous—a look Aubrey had never seen on Nicole before. “Isn’t that how it happens to people
