Mr. Jay moved to the front of the bus when it slowed, and the kids crowded around the windows to see the inland wall approaching. It wrapped out of the dark from left and right and was lit evenly by emergency lights. There were other lights too, glowing on the buses ahead and it was soon obvious that something was burning.
Dawn pushed past the gawking kids to where Mr. Jay crouched beside the driver. The bus crawled by the burning shapes of armored vehicles and tanks. Mr. Jay shielded Dawn’s eyes when they passed the first of the bodies-grownups in uniforms.
“What in hell happened to those gates?” Whistles blurted suddenly.
“The Creature sent Nightcare fighters to open them up,” Liz explained matter-of-factly.
“Man,” sighed Marcus. “Those are some angry kids!”
“Can you blame them?” Mr. Jay patted the driver’s shoulder.
And then the bus passed the battered gates. They were hanging on torn hinges burning and ripped like a giant had broken them.
The convoy had made good time crossing Zero.
Dawn had never been so nervous and scared while she had waited for Mr. Jay to finish talking to that Creature girl. Almost an hour ago now, she went with the magician to one of the big old school buses that Whistles had rounded up.
The disguised forever girl said she got them through the Salvation Army. They were used mostly for transporting the living and dead to construction jobs and the like. They also used old buses donated by various companies for transporting the poor to soup kitchens and church revival meetings so Whistles said they had a fair collection of them to rent. That also explained why the buses she got were of many different types and in such varied states of disrepair. Whistles said fuel would have been a big problem, if the Creature hadn’t had the kids hiding it around Zero for decades.
Dawn followed Mr. Jay, Liz and the Quinlan boys out to an old rusted school bus. It was the last in a line of seven. There were a couple big vans and trucks up front too. Forever kids were everywhere, and Whistles joked they were piled two-deep. She had found a cigar somewhere and was chewing it as she walked with them. Whistles had also grumbled about losing her bar.
“Ah well, not a place for a nine-year-old girl anyway.”
A couple of the bigger boys had carried little Conan out. He had some new bandages on him and Dawn was very worried. She admired his spirit and she could tell that Mr. Jay was worried too, and close to tears when he looked at him. Whistles hovered around Conan and had since given up trying to get the deadly glove off the boy.
The Nightcare fighters were everywhere: boys and girls wearing armor and padding and weapons. Dawn had asked Mr. Jay about the curious belts some wore with metal balls clipped to them.
“Grenades, Dawn,” he had said dredging up a smile. “Dangerous explosives.” He looked at the little kids wearing the belts and he shook his head. “Not supposed to be this way…”
Dawn kept a tight grip on Mr. Jay’s hand when he had gathered with the other drivers. The strange grownups and two forever teens had a wild look to them though they were worried too she could tell. She also liked the way they helped the forever kids and comforted the little ones who were getting too scared.
“What’s your plan?” Mr. Jay had asked one, a black woman named Dahlia. Whistles had told him she was in charge of the drivers.
“The battle’s concentrated in the west. More troops coming from the southwest so it’s going to chase us through the north gate.” She had looked around the crew. “The Creature just said to get the kids out.” Dahlia’s dark eyes flashed. “And she said to trust you.”
Mr. Jay had lowered his eyes and was lost for words for a minute. Dawn squeezed his hand until he looked over at her and smiled.
“North suits me fine,” he said and pulled Dawn forward. “This is Dawn.” She had looked up and nodded sheepishly. “She knows where we’re going. There’s a safe place in the north.” Then he turned from driver to driver lingering on their eyes. “Take the northern highway three hundred miles until you find an old town called Severance. Go forty miles west of it until you get to a lake. A big one-it’s new, so you won’t find it on a map. There’s an old camp on the road called Jelly Bean Park. Wait there.” He smiled at Dawn. “Someone will come for you. Don’t worry if it’s a giant.”
The drivers’ eyes went wide on that point, but they all nodded clearly storing those directions in their memories.
“Other than that,” Mr. Jay had said. “Get out of the City as fast as you can. Fight any resistance as hard as you can. And don’t stop for anything.” He looked up and around. “All this is going to burn.”
Dawn had followed Mr. Jay onto their bus. They found Liz and the Quinlan boys there, and Whistles sitting close to Conan in an open space at the rear of the vehicle. The bench seats were packed with forever kids: three or four across if their sizes permitted it. It was a struggle to get to Conan and the others.
Mr. Jay knelt beside the Nightcare fighter as the bus pulled away at the rear of the convoy. The magician had slipped his fingers under the brim of the little fighter’s helmet, and flipped the mask aside. Dawn thought it the strangest thing, but there was Conan. His eyes were an intense green in a little boy’s face that seemed to float in a sea of curly brown hair. His nose was small, his teeth were tiny and his lips were full and red. He smiled up at Mr. Jay but then winced at his pain.
“We’ll get a splint on that ankle, soldier,” Mr. Jay said and then asked Whistles for some water and bandages.
Dawn looked down at Conan whose intense green eyes were staring at her. “He likes you a lot,” she had said, without jealousy. “I like you too.”
The little fighter smiled and rolled his eyes.
Like the other forever kids Dawn had been excited by the prospect of freedom, and was overwhelmed by their nighttime ride through the City. All the decades of hiding now over apparently and celebrated with this scenic tour. True it was early morning and dark, and it was on Zero, but they crowded eagerly at the windows to watch the City pass. There was still some traffic, and more than anything the kids enjoyed the looks of surprise on people who saw them. Drivers and pedestrians were motionless; their mouths dropped open, as the line of children-filled buses passed.
They traveled quickly past rundown buildings and shabby businesses and neighborhoods. But there were few people on the streets.
“The dead have gone to war,” Mr. Jay had said after he bandaged Conan’s leg. “They’re out there with the others.”
And soon the buses moved through neighborhoods that were abandoned; the buildings either replaced or incorporated into the massive support structures of concrete and steel that held the upper levels in place.
And here they were at the edge of the City passing through the broken gates. The buses began to pick up speed as the road opened before them. Dawn could see right away that lots of light and flashes were coming from the left, or west. And there was the booming roar of jet planes and explosions.
“Faster,” Mr. Jay said under his breath. He was watching out the window. In the distance, tanks and armored trucks were firing bombs and spraying flames at a long line of people. The machines scorched everything in their paths until a man with wings, an Angel, dropped out of the sky. His burning sword sliced a tank in half and it exploded.
Other things were running and fighting-things like men, and worse, monsters that fought the Angels and the people and the tanks. There were explosions and fires everywhere. Dawn didn’t know what to think!
A jet fell out of the sky and exploded just ahead of them, and pieces of metal smashed into one of the buses pushing its side in, but it kept going.
“Keep down,” Mr. Jay said, with a protective arm over Dawn. “We have to go faster.”
Soon the road approached great ramps where it would swoop up to join the elevated highway. But the ramps were still a long way off when they passed something that Dawn could not believe. The grownup voice inside her head warned: Don’t look, Dawn! But she did.
It was at the side of the road, ripping and tearing at soldiers in a ruined transport. It had the body of a dog, but it was huge-a bit taller than the bus, with a gigantic head and skin like a reptile. Its long snout carried jagged teeth, and its burning red eyes watched the buses speed pass. Its lips rolled back and they all heard it snarl before it skulked off into the darkness.
Mr. Jay jumped to the window by Conan.
“Hellhound,” he hissed, glancing over as the Nightcare fighters loaded their weapons.
“Holy Shit!” Marcus yelled from the front.
Suddenly the windows, wall and emergency exit at the rear of the bus were torn away with an explosive screech of steel and a shower of glass. The Hellhound fell back shaking a mouthful of metal. It howled as the bus sped away and came lunging swiftly after. Mr. Jay quickly reached out for the kids on the benches, pulled those to safety who hadn’t already jumped clear. Whistles and the Nightcare fighters climbed up on seats and started firing into the darkness.
The bus shuddered, as a great pair of jaws clamped down on the roof, and ripped more metal away. The Nightcare fighters fired their guns. Bullets sparked off the horrid fangs that snapped in the opening.
Dawn was pushed toward the front of the bus with the other kids. More screaming as the Hellhound bit the bus again, sending it shaking and swaying onto two wheels. They could see the thing now loping after them.
It snapped at their bus again. Its long hard teeth caught the undercarriage and lifted the vehicle for a second. It bounced, and a forever girl lost her balance. She tumbled off her seat and fell out the back of the bus. Mr. Jay leapt and caught her legs in time.
But the Hellhound howled, and surged forward eyes burning for blood before the magician could pull her back inside.
And there was Conan. His helmet was snapped closed. He fanned the air with his murderous glove. He reached out to a Nightcare fighter firing her gun and unclipped the belt of grenades.
The Hellhound was bellowing. Forever kids were trying to pull Mr. Jay and the girl to safety.
Whistles was firing her gun to no effect.
Conan slung the grenade belt over his shoulder and then pressed his masked face against Whistles’ head. He whispered something and ran.
Conan charged over Mr. Jay’s back and jumped at the Hellhound.
“No!” Dawn and everybody cried, “No!” But it was too late, and they watched as the thing snapped at Conan in the air but his nimble feet kicked against its nose. The little Nightcare fighter flipped forward onto the monster’s forehead. The beast whined when Conan slashed its eyeballs with his killing-glove. The Hellhound shook its head and knocked him off but Conan landed on his feet some yards away.
Mr. Jay had just produced his metal walking stick and had stoked it up to a radiant brilliance when the Hellhound’s massive jaws snapped closed over Conan where he stood.
Everybody screamed as it swung its head back to swallow him.
Then the Hellhound’s head exploded in a flaming ball of red.
The bus kept speeding forward. Wind whipped over the kids inside. The guns stopped firing.
Dawn hurried over to Mr. Jay and grabbed his hand. He looked at her: his face torn by grief.