Dex felt that he was floating gently, drifting through the air like a feather.

It was very dark and quiet.

The tornado must have carried him high into the clouds.

But then Dex started to spin, faster, faster, faster.

And now he felt like he was falling.

He reached out, grasping frantically, as though he could grab hold of a star, or a cloud.

Dex’s eyes flew open.

And he realized that the spinning was only in his mind.

He was in Dr. Gage’s SUV, crumpled across the backseat. The windows were gone. The airbags had opened. There was a huge hole in the roof.

Carefully he moved his arms and legs. He put his hand on his chest, feeling his pounding heart.

Was he actually alive?

He felt like he’d been in a blender, his body beaten to a pulp.

But somehow no part of him had been crushed or broken or torn open.

The tornado had moved on. Dex could hear it in the distance, its roar faded to a distant moan.

He sat up, wincing in pain as he spat out mouthfuls of dirt and grit.

He wiped away the layer of mud and snot and blood that covered his face. And slowly the world around him came into focus.

It was no world he recognized. It was as if he had crash-landed on a distant planet. Instead of grass, the ground was covered with glass and pulverized wood and metal. Instead of mountains, there were hills of tangled debris. The trees looked like skeletons, stripped of their leaves and branches and even their bark.

He was still in the parking lot of Peter’s Garage. The car hadn’t flown so far after all.

It made no sense that he hadn’t been killed.

But nothing made sense.

The garage building was now a heap of crushed concrete. Smashed cars were scattered all around. One had been wrapped around a tree. Downed electrical wires hissed like fiery snakes. A tricycle hung from the branch of a naked tree.

Slowly the fog lifted from Dex’s mind, and he realized what else was wrong: Dr. Gage wasn’t in the car.

“Dr. Gage!” Dex cried out.

He looked all around, his blood turning to ice when he spotted him.

Dr. Gage was sprawled on the ground just a few yards away.

He wasn’t moving.

Dex’s stomach lurched, and a numb feeling spread through him.

He climbed out of the SUV through a shattered window. Part of the chain-link fence was attached to the bottom of the car. That’s what had saved them from being sucked into the sky, Dex realized. The fence had anchored them to the ground.

Dex staggered over to Dr. Gage and fell to his knees. Dr. Gage’s brown skin had turned ashy gray. With shaking fingers, Dex felt his cheek, which was cold and clammy.

But his chest was moving.

“Dr. Gage,” Dex choked.

To his relief, Dr. Gage’s eyes fluttered open.

He stared at Dex with reddened eyes.

“Dex,” he rasped. “You made it. You made it.”

“We both did.”

But then Dr. Gage shut his eyes again.

“Dr. Gage! Dr. Gage.”

He didn’t answer.

Dex could see he was badly hurt. There was a pool of blood spreading under his right leg.

What should he do? Who could help them?

Dex’s mind whirled, as though the tornado winds were spinning his thoughts.

All he knew was that he was alone.

His city was gone.

And Dr. Gage was dying.

If he were a tough SEAL, Dex would carry Dr. Gage on his back and march through the wreckage all the way to St. John’s hospital.

But Dex was not a battle-toughened SEAL.

He was an eleven-year-old kid who couldn’t even hit a baseball.

He had no team of warriors by his side. He barely even had any friends.

Dex sat down on the cold, wet ground and closed his eyes. He wanted to curl up and disappear. But his mind drifted to the stories Jeremy had told him about SEAL training. He could practically feel his big brother’s hand on his shoulder, smell his breath, hear his voice speaking quietly in the darkness.

“They barely let you sleep. You’re running for miles every day, swimming in that freezing ocean until your body is numb. It’s constant pain. Every minute I wanted to quit.”

“Why do they make it so hard?” Dex had asked.

“Because the whole point is to show you that you are stronger than you ever imagined. As a SEAL, there will be times when you are terrified, lost, bleeding. But you can’t just quit. The guys on your team are depending on you. Your country is counting on you. And so no matter how you feel, you need to find the strength to complete your mission.”

Dex still hadn’t really understood.

But now, sitting in this wrecked parking lot, it started to dawn on him.

No, Dex wasn’t a SEAL. He had no golden trident pin, no M16 rifle, no soldiers lined up all around him.

But Dex had a mission.

To help Dr. Gage.

Some strength seeped into his aching body. He stood up and shook off his tears.

If Dex didn’t do something right now, Dr. Gage was going to die.