going to say no, and his vulnerability made the tears start again.
“Yeah,” she said. “That’s good. It’s all I ever wanted.” Over his shoulder, she saw the little girl coming up to them. Or more precisely, floating toward them; her feet didn’t seem to be touching the ground. They were all being watched by the crowd, many of whom were pointing and smiling toward them. “Who’s this?” she asked.
Wally craned his head, not letting go of Jerusha. “Oh,” he said. “This is Ghost. I found her… Well, she found me, actually.” Jerusha felt him start under her embrace, as if something had just occurred to him. “Nuts,” he said. “Jerusha, the lab-that big one that the files you found talked about-I know where it is. Just outside of the town here. I found it, and I gotta go stop them and get those kids out. I was getting ready to do that, but these fellers over there”-he pointed to the crowd of poorly armed people on the street-“keep following me. If you could talk to them in French, tell them to stay here in town so they don’t get hurt, then I can go to the lab…”
Fear stabbed her. He looked fragile, the rust nearly covering him, his skin bubbling and crusted with it. She also knew she could not stop him, that he wouldn’t stop until he’d done what he came here to do-and that if she wanted to be with him, she had no choice, either.
“I’ll go with you,” Jerusha told him. “I’ll help you.”
“You’re okay?” Wally asked. “Really?”
Crowds were surging through the streets. Many carried weapons, real and makeshift. Many more carried goods looted from the stores and houses. A pall of smoke hung in the air over the city. The smoke was adding to an already beautiful sunset.
Noel rested his hands on his hips and took a slow 360-degree turn. “Well, word of the events here will certainly be winging its way to Kongoville.”
“So, we gotta get going before they send any more soldiers,” Rusty said. “We gotta get out to that Red House place right now!” He started away, his metal feet sinking into the soft asphalt road.
Noel leaped after him, and caught him by the wrist. He noticed when he took his hand away his palm was covered with rust. “Half a tic. Rusty, dear fellow. We might do well to talk this out a bit first.” Noel paused and surveyed the big iron ace. “The quickest way in will be up the western slope. That will undoubtedly be rigged with motion sensors and cameras. If it were my task to guard this facility I’d also lay down claymore mines for an added surprise. Our best hope is for a two-pronged attack. Bugsy, Cameo, Gardener, and I will slip in from the west and cause enough of a ruckus so the alarm is sounded. Then Rusty will advance down the road and through the front gate. We had best wait for cover of darkness, however. And we will need some chicken wire.”
Cameo looked up. She was wearing the battered fedora so it was Nick who looked through her eyes. “Chicken wire?”
“It will handle the RPGs that Rusty can’t dodge. Trust me.”
“Why am I not reassured?” Bugsy muttered.
“I’m counting on the guards to weigh the relative threats. Given a choice between dealing with gnat stings-”
“ Wasp stings, please,” Bugsy said. “Not that it’ll make a damn bit of difference.”
“Stop being so damn negative,” Nick said with Cameo’s voice. Bugsy subsided.
Noel went on. “-or a big iron imperialist at the front gate, they’ll vote for dealing with Rusty.”
“That puts Rusty in terrible danger,” Gardener said.
“I’ll be okay. I’m pretty tough.” When Rusty looked at her his heart was in his eyes. Noel wondered if he realized that Gardener was dying, and that nothing could be done to prevent that outcome.
He shook off the sudden burst of melancholy and continued. “All of us are going to be in terrible danger. Rustbelt’s better able to withstand the attack. You are rather like a tank, Rusty. Gardener, you’ll need to deal with the claymores with fast-growing vegetation that will force them to detonate. Will you be able to do that?” She nodded. Noel was worried that the one sentence she had uttered had left her too weak to speak again. “We will then all converge on the Red House. Between Rusty’s strength and Gardener’s tree roots we ought to be able to crack it open.”
“Can we go now?” Rusty asked.
“And what about all those soldiers with guns?” Bugsy asked, ignoring Rusty’s plaintive question.
“They’ll be focused on Rusty. I can account for a fair number of them, you as bug-boy can certainly discomfit them, Cameo as Will-o’-Wisp will add to the butcher’s bill, and when that house starts to come apart I will lay you any odds that most of them will throw down their guns and present us with a charming view of asses and elbows.”
“So what’s the one big wild card, if you’ll forgive the pun?” Nick said.
“Weathers. Our task is to hit fast, hit hard, destroy this final lab and their virus cultures, and get the hell out before the Radical can arrive.”
“Will they send for him?” Bugsy asked.
Noel shrugged. “I would. But he’s been totally focused on me and the Sudd. I think we’ll have time.”
“And if we don’t?”
“Then it will be our asses and elbows presented. Once the sun has set, Lilith can get you all out, though I’ll have to take Rusty separately.”
Rusty frowned at the setting sun. “How soon can we go?”
“Soon enough.”
“Good. So where do we get this chicken wire?”
The Red House squatted in the darkness, unaware that a hundred thousand wasps were making their way through the brush, past the fences, into the air ducts and hidden trenches and outbuildings. The insects avoided the light, gathered in small clumps on the underside of leaves, followed along behind the soldiers who thought they were alone in the night.
Bugsy’s head and part of his torso sat in the backseat of an improbable ’67 Cadillac, nestled in the dense underbrush. “Okay, kids,” he said. “I’m pulling the trigger.”
Inside the compound, two soldiers walked through their patrol, bored and smoking. Then hundreds of small green wasps were crawling under their uniforms, stinging their mouths and eyes. One of the soldiers panicked, and his screams and gunfire brought the camp to life. Through thousands of multifaceted eyes, Bugsy watched the lab’s internal security force rush to respond.
He kept on stinking the newcomers until someone dug out a flamethrower. “Okay,” he said. “That’s as distracted as I can get ’em. I’m pulling back.”
“Let’s go,” Cameo said.
Clangclangclangclangclang…
Wally charged down the middle of the road. He carried a wide, hastily built cage of iron rebar. A pair of spotlights followed his every stride. Somewhere, in the darkness outside the lights, automatic weapons chattered, kicking up little puffs of rust and dirt and blood.
Yeah, he had their attention.
He headed straight for the compound. Finally, finally, it was time to break that place. They could have started hours ago, but…
Rustbelt, fellow, you’re rather like a tank, Noel had said. Let us consider the possibilities. And then he’d gone on and on and on about tactics and feints and RPGs for what felt like forever. That’s why Wally carried the cage. Something about armor-piercing warheads and liquid copper and other stuff Wally didn’t- ka-RHUMP!
An explosion against the cage knocked Wally off his feet. It splattered him with what felt like lava, like white-hot rain. He heard rust sizzle, felt iron bubble. It hurt bad enough to make him cry out, but the round didn’t cut him in half like it was supposed to.
Okay, so maybe Noel was right.
Wally reached the perimeter. Under a hail of grenades and small-arms fire, he grabbed two fistfuls of fence and went to town.
Jerusha found herself crouched in the darkness under the trees, with the fence of the compound a hundred yards away. Wally was on the west side of the compound. She worried about him more than herself. He was all alone out there.
The ka-RHUMP of RPGs and the chattering of small-arms fire suddenly erupted on the other side of the compound grounds: Rusty’s feint after Bugsy’s initial probe on their side. They could hear shouting and see lights swaying and careening over the grass. With an audible foomp, two huge searchlights kicked out, their blue-white
