“Even so,” said Bronwyn. “It’s not right to make people suffer unnecessarily. We
“That’s all well and good, but think of Miss Peregrine!” said Millard. “She can’t have more than a day left.”
Our group seemed evenly divided between stealing the ambulance or going on foot, so we put it to a vote. I myself was against taking it, but mostly because the roads were so pocked with bomb holes that I didn’t know how we’d drive the thing.
Emma took the vote. “Who’s for taking the ambulance?” she said.
A few hands shot up.
“And against?”
Suddenly there was a loud pop from the direction of the ambulance, and we all turned to see Miss Peregrine standing by as one of its rear tires hissed air. Miss Peregrine had voted with her beak—by stabbing it into the ambulance’s tire. Now
“Well, that simplifies things,” said Millard. “We go on foot.”
“Miss Peregrine!” Bronwyn cried. “How could you?”
Ignoring Bronwyn’s indignation, Miss Peregrine hopped over to Melina, looked up at the pigeon on her shoulder, and screeched. The message was clear:
What could we do? Time was wasting.
“Come with us,” Emma said to Sam. “If there’s any justice in the world, we’ll be somewhere safe before the night is through.”
“I told you, I won’t leave my sister behind,” Sam replied.
“You’re going to one of those places she can’t enter, aren’t you?”
“I—I don’t know,” Emma stammered. “It’s possible …”
“I don’t care either way,” Sam said coldly. “After what I just saw, I wouldn’t so much as cross the road with you.”
Emma drew back, going a bit pale. In a small voice she asked, “Why?”
“If even outcasts and downtrodden folk like yourselves can’t muster a bit of compassion for others,” she said, “then there’s no hope for this world.” And she turned away and carried Esme toward the ambulance.
Emma reacted as if she’d been slapped, her cheeks going red. She ran after Sam. “We don’t all think the way
