“I wish you didn’t always sound like a Chinese sage every time you open your mouth. It’s really annoying. I wish you’d say stupid shit like the rest of us.”
He gave her a sidelong glance. “Where I grew up, saying something stupid got you a fist in the face.”
She knew that. The entire Cecchino family knew it, though most of the time they were kind enough not to bring it up.
Guilt flashed across Lena’s face. Her eyes widened as she looked at him. “I’m sorry, Dal. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“It’s okay.” He found it impossible to be mad at her most days. Just as he found it impossible not to notice how pretty her eyes were.
“No, it’s not. It was a shitty thing to say.” She let out a breath and hugged her knees to her chest. “I just can’t do it, you know? All it does is make me think of her.”
He knew she’d switched topics and was talking about the dancing. “I know, Lena.” He knew the anti-nuke rallies and the Russian language tapes also made her think about her mom, but for some reason, she’d attached a different sentiment to it. “How long does the rally last?”
“I don’t know. An hour or two.”
“After class I have to clean the radio station. I should be finished around eight.”
“Can you pick me up at the coffee shop on Fourth?”
“Sure.” Dal pulled up a few blocks west of the downtown plaza. The street was already clogged with people heading to the rally. “Did you bring a sign?”
“Nah. There’s usually extra ones around I can grab. Or maybe today they’ll let me be on megaphone duty.” A brief grin softened her face. “I love shouting in that thing.”
He chuckled. “Have fun.”
She jumped out of the car. Before closing the door, she leaned down to look at him. “I’m sorry for being a jerk.”
“It’s okay.”
“See you later?”
“Yep. Eight o’clock. At the coffee shop on Fourth.”
“Bye, Dal.”
“Bye, Lena.”
Chapter 4Charter Bus
LEO LOVED THE SMELL of the fresh cut grass and the feel of the sun-drenched bleachers against his hands. They were reminders of the best days of his life.
He paced in the shade of the bleachers, eating dried cinnamon apples out of a Ziploc bag. Nonna always turned the ugliest of the fruit into apple chips. Despite the fact that Leo despised apples, Nonna’s chips were to die for.
Anton and all his varsity friends were out on the field, running plays under Coach Brown’s supervision. The little bastard didn’t know how good he had it.
Leo would never, ever admit to sneaking away from the farm early to watch Anton play varsity football. He was secretly proud of his little brother; he was a damn good quarterback, even if he couldn’t throw with the same distance and precision as Leo had.
Watching his brother took Leo back to a time when he was somebody. Varsity quarterback. Team captain. Homecoming king. Scholarship winner. Future UC Berkley student.
Jennifer’s boyfriend.
Life had been so damn good—right up until the moment when it wasn’t anymore. He’d gone from being on top of the world to the bottom on the dog pile in the blink of an eye.
He sighed, chomping on the last of the apple chips and shoving the empty Ziploc into his pocket. He knew he needed to let go and move on. He knew he couldn’t get on with his life if all he did was dwell in the past. It was just so damn hard.
Anton’s throw sailed forty yards down the field, a perfect arch that landed squarely in the hands of the receiver. Nice.
A charter bus pulled up on the far end of the football field. The image of a long greyhound was painted on the side.
What was a charter bus doing at the high school? Tour companies sometimes brought people up this way for an “authentic California experience” in a local apple orchard. Tourists actually paid money to spend the afternoon in an orchard picking apples. It was a big fat joke as far as Leo was concerned. Maybe he’d figure out a way to capitalize on that idea.
Except there was no apple orchard around here. The tour bus must have taken a wrong turn somewhere. The country roads around Bastopol could get confusing. Coach Brown would set the driver straight.
The bus door opened. A guy in military fatigues stepped out. That was weird. There wasn’t a military base anywhere around here.
Coach Brown crossed the field, heading in the direction of the guy in the fatigues. Leo watched him wave a friendly hand.
Then something strange happened.
The guy in fatigues raised a weapon.
The weapon fired.
Coach Brown staggered back, clutching his chest. The soldier fired a second time. This time, Leo saw blood spurt out of Coach Brown’s body.
More men in fatigues swarmed out of the bus and poured across the field. They were armed with multiple weapons—and they fired directly at Anton and the rest of the varsity football team.
“Anton!” Leo’s shout was lost in the chatter of gunfire.
That’s when he caught sight of the back side of the fatigue uniforms. A bright red star, sickle, and hammer was emblazoned there.
Leo stood frozen in shock. Russian soldiers? Here? On American soil?
Several varsity students fell under the onslaught of gunfire. Their screams jarred Leo into action.
Anton. His brother. His baby brother.
Leo saw everything in the blink of an eye. It was a a knack he’d developed while playing football. He could assess a scene in less than a second and make snap decisions. Pressure made him thrive.
He saw everything clearly, and it terrified him. If he ran across the field to help, the most he could do was get his hands on a gun and defend his little brother. But they’d still be outnumbered and outgunned with no way out.
What they needed was to get the fuck out of here. It was the only way to survive.
Turning his back on the field was the hardest thing Leo had ever done. But he knew it was
