The president shoved me out of the flight deck ahead of him, sending me barreling into the crew lounge, crashing into one of the beds on my right. I tripped, falling to one knee, but the president grabbed me and pulled me to my feet.

“Keep going!” he shouted. “Get out! Get out!” He pushed me on, yanking the door shut behind him and yelling at me to move faster as we raced through the communications center and headed for the stairs.

We only made it down the first few steps before the explosion ripped through the upper deck of Air Force One.

For a heartbeat, all the air was sucked out of the world. My lungs deflated, a piercing jolt flashed through my head, and my eyes felt as if they were swelling in my skull. My ears deadened when the sound reached them, and every single one of my joints popped and screamed out in pain. Then the plane shuddered as pressure and heat raced after us like a demon.

A solid wall of force rushed through the cockpit, bringing a mess of shrapnel and debris with it, a raging cloud of destruction that smashed through the crew lounge, singeing everything it touched. The communications center door gave way under its power, blasting inward and allowing the energy to fill that room, too, collecting pieces of broken glass and plastic and burning paper as it went.

We were halfway down the stairs when the force of the explosion reached us. By then it had lost much of its intensity, but it still snatched us off our feet and threw us to the corridor below, where we landed on the damp beige carpet in a disorganized heap. Fragments from the crew lounge and the communications center bombarded us, hammering the ground like heavy rain on leaves.

Straight away, I tried to get up, but nothing seemed to work properly. My legs were like soft rubber and my arms were shaking. My vision was hazy and I could hardly think.

The plane filled with hot smoke, and there was an awful smell of burning and charred plastic that stung my eyes and caught in the back of my throat, making me cough. I put a hand over my mouth and made myself stop, afraid that it would give us away even though all I could hear was a high-pitched whining in my ears.

I turned my head in slow motion, the world swimming in front of me as I reeled from the effects of the shock wave. The president was lying beside me, trying to focus, but his eyes were streaming and rolling about. He reached out to reassure me and we stayed still, side by side, trying to recover.

“— after us,” the president said.

“What?” I tried to sit up and lean closer. I rubbed my face with both hands, then stuck my fingers in my ears and waggled them about, feeling some sense of normality return.

“I said, they’re coming after us.”

“Should we go back?” With some effort, I turned to glance at the security door, half-hidden by smoke, and shivered at the thought of trying to make it back through the plane, the way we had come.

“Too risky. We’re already sinking.” The president coughed. “We both saw that. Maybe the air pockets are gone.” He paused to wipe his irritated eyes. “We were lucky we found what we did when we came through. This whole plane’s going to be underwater soon. That explosion has only made it worse.”

“The side door, then. The one you wave from.”

The president got to his feet and put a hand on the wall to steady himself as he looked along the corridor. Tears streamed down his cheeks and he squeezed them shut over and over again, trying to wash away the effects of the acrid smoke. “They’ll just come after us. They’re never going to stop, Oskari. Never.” He shook his head. “They don’t want to kill me, though, not yet. Hazar said he wants to …”

I remembered what Hazar had said about stuffing the president and displaying him. It was too horrible to even think about.

He looked at me with a serious expression. “I think maybe it’s time to give myself up.”

He was a wreck. His shoulders were hunched and he could hardly stand up straight. His eyes were bloodshot and streaming with tears, and his body hitched as he coughed the smoky atmosphere out of his lungs. His skin was covered with cuts and bruises and scrapes; he looked like a beaten man. I would have bet anything that I looked beaten, too, and the obvious thing was to give up. We were outnumbered, outgunned, and backed into a corner with almost no way out.

But I had the blood of hunters in my veins.

I had one day and one night to find out what kind of a man I was. I had to know how to listen and fight tooth and nail for my prey. Nothing would be given to me for free.

Hamara’s words.

A boy set out into the wilderness, but a man would return.

I frowned at the president. “No.”

“What?”

“I said, ‘No.’ I have the blood of hunters in my veins.”

“It’s over, Oskari. We’re finished. We’ve had enough. You can escape when I’m gone — get out of the door I showed you.” The plane lurched beneath us as he spoke, throwing us against the wall. “I’ll tell them you’re dead.”

“No,” I said again, feeling the fear begin to slip away. I had had enough, but that didn’t mean I was going to run away. The time for running was gone. I was moving beyond fear now, and my instincts were changing.

“Mr. President!” Hazar’s voice echoed through the upper deck and floated down the hazy stairwell. “Where are you, Mr. President?”

We looked at each other, but the cold tightness that had gripped my insides was no longer as firm.

“Mr. President?” The singsong voice snaked through the smoke. “Don’t make me come looking for you.”

“I have to give myself up,” the president whispered. “I have to. It’s the only way to keep you safe.” He turned toward the stairs.

“Mr. President? Are you hiding from me?”

“No.” I grabbed his arm. “It isn’t the only way. I’ve already told you, I’m not giving you up. It’s time to fight.”

“Fight?” He looked back at me. “With what? Your bow and arrow?”

“Dad always told me I’m smart.” It felt good to know that I wasn’t going to run. It made me feel strong and confident. “You’re smart, too, President. Together we can beat them. I know we can. Once and for all.”

“How? You have an idea?”

“Yes, I do,” I said. “Follow me.”