They piled out of the car. Lena and Mr. Cecchino had the guns. There was a backpack in the back seat of the Mustang. Dal opened it and found several college science books. The Russians must have stolen this car from the college campus.
He dumped out the books and donned the empty backpack. If they intended to get broadcast equipment, they needed a way to carry it. The transmitter wasn’t huge, but it wasn’t exactly small, either. The backpack would be the best way to transport it.
They crept down an eerily quiet street, picking their way around dead bodies. Dal made it a point not to look at any of them too closely.
The storefronts they passed were deserted. Some had broken windows. All looked like they’d been abandoned in a hurry.
The wind moved between the buildings in a soft hiss. There were no police sirens and no ambulance wails. The only sound was occasional machine gun chatter in the distance.
How long had the Russians been here? Only three or four hours, and look at the city. Cowed. Silent. Scared.
Shouts lit the air, followed by the sound of gunfire.
Nearby was the sound of gunfire and shouting. It came from the direction of the college campus. Dal glanced at Lena and Mr. Cecchino to see if either registered the danger. Both looked as steadfast as they had since they first cooked up this insane plan.
Two blocks ahead, a pack of soldiers came around the corner. Dal shoved Lena and Mr. Cecchino into the sheltered entranceway of a bookstore.
He counted six Soviets in total. Two had machine guns out. The rest had their dart guns raised. They turned down a connecting street and disappeared.
“Come on.” Dal led the way down the street. He paused at the next intersection, looking after the soldiers. They were in a tight group, making their way west down the street. They scanned the buildings and the road ahead of them, but not behind them.
Dal made eye contact with his companions and counted down on his fingers. Three, two, one.
They sprinted across the intersection. Dal kept his ears peeled, expecting to hear Russian shouting and gunshots.
It never came.They made it to the other side and kept running, not stopping until they hit the next corner. Breathing hard, Dal peeked around it to look in the direction of the police station.
This was the real reason he’d parked the car behind the burger joint. He wanted a look at the downtown police station. He hadn’t seen a single cop since all this had started, which had him thinking scary thoughts. He’d hoped his suspicions weren’t correct. He’d hoped the town officers had all fallen back to regroup somewhere, or possibly had gone to get reinforcements.
One look at the police station was enough for him to confirm his suspicions. There were bodies everywhere. It looked like bombs had gone off in and around the station. There were dead bodies everywhere. Flies and vultures were already congregating.
“They knew what they were doing,” Mr. Cecchino said softly.
“Should we go inside and see if we can find extra weapons?” Lena asked.
Dal scanned the bodies. Those that were intact had been stripped of weapons. He didn’t like the idea of going into the station to find more. If the Russians were smart—and so far they had shown themselves to be—they would’ve cleaned out all the weapons when they attacked.
“We should keep moving,” Mr. Cecchino said. “Let’s stay focused on the task.”
They crept past the station and kept moving in the direction of the college.
When they were a block away from campus, Dal took them down an alleyway behind the shops that bordered the front of the school. The back door to a Goodwill sat wide open.
“Let’s get a look at the school from inside here first,” Dal said.
With any luck, the place would be crawling with Soviets. Mr. Cecchino and Lena would be forced to give up this insane idea. They could go back to the farm and reunite with the rest of the family. Nonna could help Mr. Cecchino, who was looking worse by the moment.
Inside the shop, they crept through the racks of musty-smelling clothing. The Goodwill had come through the attack relatively unscathed. There were no bodies. Other than a tipped over shoe rack, nothing looked out of place.
In the front window was a large sofa set. Dal scuttled free of the clothing racks and dropped down behind the couch. Lena and Mr. Cecchino joined him.
Rossi Junior College looked like the site of a massacre. There were dead students everywhere. Dal’s mouth went dry at the sight. He could have very easily been among those dead. He’d gotten lucky. Very, very lucky.
“How in the hell did you make it off campus?” Lena whispered.
Dal just shook his head.
Shouting drew his attention to the brick classrooms that lined the front lawn of the campus. As they watched, a small group of students raced out from between the classrooms. There were over two dozen of them. They ran across the open lawn, dodging through the dead bodies.
Following them was a group of Soviets. Dal might not understand Russian, but no matter the language, he understood catcalling and hackling. The soldiers called after the students, firing round after round of darts at their backs. They didn’t give up the chase until they reached the edge of the front lawn.
Then they let the students go. The group scattered, breaking into smaller clumps. The Russians laughed, calling after them.
“What are they saying?” Mr. Cecchino asked.
Lena’s mouth was set in a hard line. “They said, ‘Have fun dying’ and ‘Have fun killing all your friends.’ ”
Dal heard the words, but they slid off him. If he thought too hard on what Lena just said, it would mean he’d have to apply those words to Mr. Cecchino. He turned his attention back to the street.
The Russians swaggered back toward campus, talking to one another as they gestured to the stately buildings
