THE MOST BEAUTIFUL Day is here. I’m at the warehouse, tossing a twine ball for Bando to fetch. Over and over again. I have to do something to keep from jumping out of my skin. I don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous. But I don’t want to show it. If I seem too twitchy, Lamont and Margo might leave me behind. And I can’t let that happen. Whatever they’re doing today, I need to be part of it.
Lamont and Margo walk out of their nook.
“You ready?” asks Lamont.
“I’m ready,” I say.
All three of us are wearing the same outfit. Black pants and black shirts with no loose fabric—more secondhand finds, with a little extra tailoring by Grandma. For me and Lamont, she even replaced the zippers with plastic buttons, so we’re one hundred percent metal-free. If you ask me, we all look like old-time burglars, especially with the black masks. But I’m not complaining. Anything is better than those bike shorts.
“Watch Bando while we’re gone, Grandma,” I say.
“Don’t worry about us,” she says. Then she looks at Lamont.
“Do you know what you’re doing, Lamont?” Grandma asks.
“Not entirely,” he says. At least he’s honest.
“Lamont likes to make things up as he goes along,” says Margo.
“It’s called being in the moment,” says Lamont. “Acting on instinct. Finding the spontaneous solution.”
“It’s called winging it,” says Margo.
Grandma grabs Lamont by the arm. She looks at Margo.
“Don’t you two dare let anything happen to my Maddy,” she says. “Remember, without her, none of us would be here.”
“You have my word,” says Lamont.
I give Bando a bye-bye belly rub and then wrap my arms around Grandma.
“Do not answer the door, no matter what,” I tell her.
“I promise,” she says. “And anyway, I have the world’s bravest guard dog.” She leans over to hold Bando so he won’t follow us out the door.
“Good luck,” she says, scratching Bando’s head. “Be careful.”
I feel like going back to hug her one more time, but Lamont and Margo are in a big rush. So I just blow her a kiss. She blows one back.
I follow Margo and Lamont down the stairs and out the front entrance. The neighborhood is empty. I guess everybody is uptown, where the big tents are. People in this neighborhood are always hungry, and free food is the best possible lure.
We move out along the riverfront, heading north. The sky is bright blue and the air is warm. It is a beautiful day—weather-wise, anyway.
All of a sudden, there’s a loud crack behind us, like a huge tree branch snapping. We all duck. I turn around and look back at the warehouse just as a huge lightning bolt shoots out of the sky and hits the top floor! In one second, the whole warehouse is blasted to pieces. The shock wave knocks me onto my back.
I hear Lamont yell to Margo.
“It’s Khan!”
“Grandma!” I scream at the top of my lungs. “Grandma!” I get to my feet and start to run back. Bricks and pieces of wood are still falling from the sky all around me. The warehouse isn’t even there anymore. There’s nothing left but clouds of thick gray smoke.
Before I get ten feet, Lamont grabs me and pulls me down. I’m still screaming. I try to fight him, try to break free, even though I know there’s nothing I can do. I’m on my knees now, grinding my fists against my head. When I try to look up again, Lamont is in front of me, covering my head so I can’t see.
“Maddy! Maddy! Listen to me!” It’s Margo. She’s kneeling next to me, her arm around my shoulders. “We have to get out of here! There’s no going back. There’s nothing we can do but go forward. Forward! Do you understand?” She says it again, louder, closer to my ear. “Do you understand?”
I twist my shoulders and shove her arm away. I stand up. My eyes are stinging from the smoke, and my throat burns from screaming. Lamont and Margo let me go. They stand for a few seconds, looking back at the warehouse. Then they start walking north again.
I still can’t move. My whole body is numb. I’m confused. I’m in shock. And I’m madder than I’ve ever been in my life. Lamont and Margo are widening the distance. They’re about twenty yards ahead—almost ready to turn through the alley toward the street. They stop and look back at me. They wait. I brush the dirt off my knees. I start walking toward them. One foot in front of the other. What else can I do? Two weeks ago, I didn’t know Lamont Cranston and Margo Lane really existed.
Now they’re all I’ve got.