At the door to the science building, Mr. Cecchino turned to them. Dal could see through the window in the door. The walkways outside teemed with nezhit.
“I’m going to draw them away,” Mr. Cecchino said. “You guys wait until the way is clear, then run like hell. Don’t stop until you get back to the farm.”
“Here.” Dal tried to pass him the machine gun.
“No, Dal. You keep it. You need it more than I do.”
“Dad—”
Mr. Cecchino put his arms around his daughter. This time, Lena did sob. Her shoulders shook as she cried into her father’s plaid farm shirt.
“You’re in charge of your brothers.” Mr. Cecchino stroked her back. “Don’t let them do anything too stupid.”
Lena nodded without looking up.
“Tell Nonna I love her.”
Lena nodded again, still keeping her head buried in his shirt.
Mr. Cecchino took her by the shoulders, forcing her to look up at him. “I hope you dance again one day, honey. For your mother. You are the most beautiful ballerina.” He kissed her forehead before releasing her.
Then he surprised Dal by seizing him in an embrace and slapping him on the shoulder. “Take care of my little girl. I’m counting on you.” The words were soft and desperate in his ear.
Dal’s throat was tight. “I’d die to keep her safe.”
“I know, son.”
Dal couldn’t bring himself to release Mr. Cecchino. There were no words to convey the gratitude he felt for the man who had taken him in when he had nowhere else to go. Even when he turned eighteen and assumed he’d be forced to look for an apartment, Mr. Cecchino said he could stay as long as he was going to school.
There were too many words and not enough time.
“Thank you,” was all he could manage.
“I always considered you one of my own boys.” Mr. Cecchino gave him one last squeeze. “Our country needs you and Lena. Get back to the farm and figure out a way to broadcast Lena’s information.”
Dal blinked rapidly, fighting back tears. The rage, for the moment, was stifled beneath the grief. Lena sniffed, wiping her nose and eyes on her sleeve. But when she shouldered her machine gun, Dal saw steel in her eyes.
Mr. Cecchino handed Dal a last spare magazine. And then he was gone. The door swung shut behind him with a soft hiss.
Mr. Cecchino sprinted away from the building, shouting as he went. “Over here! Come and get me!”
Lena’s breath hitched as every head turned in the direction of her father. The horde—at least three dozen on them—bolted after him.
The walkways were emptied in mere seconds.
In wordless unison, Dal and Lena raced outside. They tore west, running as fast at they could. Dal’s shoulders already ached from the weight of the transmitter, but Mr. Cecchino’s sacrifice made him strong.
Mr. Cecchino’s voice painted the night as he drew the nezhit. “Over here! Hey, over here!”
Dal’s mind flashed back to one of the earliest memories of the his childhood. He’d been three or four at the time. He’d climbed so high into one of the apple trees that Mr. Cecchino had been forced to fetch the ladder. Come on, son. Give me your hand.
And there had been the first time Mr. Cecchino realized he’d been sneaking into Leo and Anton’s bedroom after beatings from his father. Mr. Cecchino found him in there in the morning, curled up on the floor. Dal had been horrified. Mr. Cecchino responded by making him a cup of hot chocolate. Here you go, son. Chocolate makes everything better.
That night of his freshman year when his dad had broken two of his ribs and his mother had thrown him out, Dal thought he’d be living under the freeway. But Mr. Cecchino had taken one look at him and given Dal a kind smile. You can stay with us, son. You don’t ever have to go back to that place.
Mr. Cecchino’s voice was loud in Dal’s ears. “Come and get me! Over here, you hungry bastards!”
And then it was gone.
There was no final scream. No cry of pain.
He was there, and then he wasn’t.
Tears blurred Dal’s eyes. Lena’s choked on a sob beside him.
And still, they ran.
Chapter 23Neighbors
LEO PACED THE DECK that surrounded the cabin, staring at the road that led down Pole Mountain. The sun had set. He couldn’t see far, but that didn’t matter. It wasn’t his eyes he was using. It was his ears.
He listened for the distinct hum of his truck. He listened for the loud rumble of Dal’s beetle.
He listened for anything mechanical.
All he heard was the chirp of crickets, the burp of frogs and, in the distance, the howl of coyotes.
“Dammit, guys,” he said softly. “Where the hell are you?”
Looking for his missing family members was almost as hard as looking at the two graves just outside the clearing. Adam and Lars would forever rest there.
They’d been high school seniors, just like Anton. They should have had their whole lives ahead of them. Instead they were dead, murdered by Russians.
The wooden railing of the deck creaked as Leo’s grip tightened. Dammit, he had to do something.
“Leo?” Jennifer came out onto the deck.
After her acrobatics in the rafters with her stilettos, Nonna had gone from giving Jennifer the cold shoulder to letting her wear one of her favorite aprons in the kitchen. Not only that, she’d given Jennifer a pair of her tennis shoes. The sight of his ex-girlfriend and his grandma laughing and preparing the meal had been enough to make his head explode.
“Leo? Dinner is ready.”
He didn’t turn around. “You guys go ahead. I’m not hungry.”
Jennifer wasn’t easily deterred. She never had been. She leaned against the railing beside him. “You’re looking for your dad, Lena, and Dal?”
“Yeah.”
“They probably had to take the long way home, you know? Country roads and stuff.” She squeezed his forearm. “It’s hell out there. I’m sure they’re on their way back.”
He dislodged his arm and stepped sideways, putting a comfortable amount of space between them. She didn’t get to pretend
