explosion in the distance roused Fletcher back to reality. He saw that the sunlight was growing dim. They couldn't afford to be out at night.
"Get up, Josh. We have to go."
"I'm not going anywhere," his brother pouted.
"Josh, I don’t want to go either, but we have to get off the streets or we’ll be dead, too.” He got up and grabbed his brother’s arm.
"We can't just leave her here!" Josh snapped.
"That exactly what we have to do," Fletcher argued. "We can't take her to the hospital. She's dead. And if we don't get inside, we're going to wind up the same way." He grabbed his brother by the shoulders and lifted him to his feet. "We can talk about this later."
With nowhere else to go, they wound up knocking on Miguel’s door again. Their friend’s mother immediately noticed their red eyes and tear-streaked cheeks. She looked behind them, hoping to see their mother, alive and well, but when she didn't, she understood immediately. "Oh, mijos ," she cried, taking each in one of her arms to embrace them.
"What happened?" Miguel said as he walked in on the scene.
"Miguel," his mother ordered, trying to hold back her own tears. "Go get them something to drink."
He shrugged and went back to the kitchen.
Josh and Fletcher both sat on the couch and recounted the scene for Miguel and his mom, who shared what little food they had for dinner with the two boys. Afterwards, they pulled the cushions off the couch and took them into the basement with some extra sheets and blankets. Miguel and his mom kept their beds down there since it was the safest place in the house.
Fletcher didn't imagine he'd be getting much sleep, though.
Within minutes of her head hitting the pillow, Miguel's mom was snoring in the other room. Fletcher rolled about, trying to be as comfortable as he could be on a dusty old couch cushion. He looked over at his brother's silhouette and could tell he was having the same struggle. They were all each other had left, yet Fletcher didn't know what to say or what to do to comfort his brother.
"Get up and get your clothes on," Miguel whispered in the darkness. He lit a candle and held it up high to light up the entire basement.
"What?" Fletcher said, squinting as his eyes adjusted.
"You're coming with me," Miguel insisted. "But be quiet and don't wake up my mom. We have some people I want you to meet."
"What people?" Josh said.
"The Revolution."
CHAPTER 4
Fletcher remembered the last time he'd been out after dark. He'd been fourteen and his mom, Josh, and he had missed a train because two supervillains were fighting on the tracks uptown. They'd had to walk home in the dark.
There was a saying that once the sun went down, there were only two kinds of people walking the streets: murderers and victims, so if anyone crossed your path, you had to decide which you wanted to be.
Their mom had told them the streets didn't used to be as scary back when the city had streetlights. Most of the lampposts had been ripped away by brawlers with superstrength who liked to swing them like baseball bats in fights, so there wasn’t much light and that made Fletcher nervous. Miguel was half his size, but he didn’t seem the least bit scared.
He moved quietly, slipping down an alleyway whenever a car drove by.
"Are you going to tell us where we're going?" Fletcher asked.
"You’ll know when we get there."
"You can't just drag us out into the streets in the middle of the night and tell us we're going to see the Revolution without explaining--"
Fletcher's complaint was cut off by something clattering inside a dumpster up ahead. A man's head peered above the rim, stopping the three boys in their tracks.
"Revolution?" the man said in a gruff voice as he lifted himself out and blocked the boys' path. "Did you say you're going to see the Revolution?"
"Back up," Miguel whispered, but Fletcher and Josh were already making their slow retreat.
"I bet Technein would pay good money for someone who knew how to find
"Get up, Josh. We have to go."
"I'm not going anywhere," his brother pouted.
"Josh, I don’t want to go either, but we have to get off the streets or we’ll be dead, too.” He got up and grabbed his brother’s arm.
"We can't just leave her here!" Josh snapped.
"That exactly what we have to do," Fletcher argued. "We can't take her to the hospital. She's dead. And if we don't get inside, we're going to wind up the same way." He grabbed his brother by the shoulders and lifted him to his feet. "We can talk about this later."
With nowhere else to go, they wound up knocking on Miguel’s door again. Their friend’s mother immediately noticed their red eyes and tear-streaked cheeks. She looked behind them, hoping to see their mother, alive and well, but when she didn't, she understood immediately. "Oh, mijos ," she cried, taking each in one of her arms to embrace them.
"What happened?" Miguel said as he walked in on the scene.
"Miguel," his mother ordered, trying to hold back her own tears. "Go get them something to drink."
He shrugged and went back to the kitchen.
Josh and Fletcher both sat on the couch and recounted the scene for Miguel and his mom, who shared what little food they had for dinner with the two boys. Afterwards, they pulled the cushions off the couch and took them into the basement with some extra sheets and blankets. Miguel and his mom kept their beds down there since it was the safest place in the house.
Fletcher didn't imagine he'd be getting much sleep, though.
Within minutes of her head hitting the pillow, Miguel's mom was snoring in the other room. Fletcher rolled about, trying to be as comfortable as he could be on a dusty old couch cushion. He looked over at his brother's silhouette and could tell he was having the same struggle. They were all each other had left, yet Fletcher didn't know what to say or what to do to comfort his brother.
"Get up and get your clothes on," Miguel whispered in the darkness. He lit a candle and held it up high to light up the entire basement.
"What?" Fletcher said, squinting as his eyes adjusted.
"You're coming with me," Miguel insisted. "But be quiet and don't wake up my mom. We have some people I want you to meet."
"What people?" Josh said.
"The Revolution."
CHAPTER 4
Fletcher remembered the last time he'd been out after dark. He'd been fourteen and his mom, Josh, and he had missed a train because two supervillains were fighting on the tracks uptown. They'd had to walk home in the dark.
There was a saying that once the sun went down, there were only two kinds of people walking the streets: murderers and victims, so if anyone crossed your path, you had to decide which you wanted to be.
Their mom had told them the streets didn't used to be as scary back when the city had streetlights. Most of the lampposts had been ripped away by brawlers with superstrength who liked to swing them like baseball bats in fights, so there wasn’t much light and that made Fletcher nervous. Miguel was half his size, but he didn’t seem the least bit scared.
He moved quietly, slipping down an alleyway whenever a car drove by.
"Are you going to tell us where we're going?" Fletcher asked.
"You’ll know when we get there."
"You can't just drag us out into the streets in the middle of the night and tell us we're going to see the Revolution without explaining--"
Fletcher's complaint was cut off by something clattering inside a dumpster up ahead. A man's head peered above the rim, stopping the three boys in their tracks.
"Revolution?" the man said in a gruff voice as he lifted himself out and blocked the boys' path. "Did you say you're going to see the Revolution?"
"Back up," Miguel whispered, but Fletcher and Josh were already making their slow retreat.
"I bet Technein would pay good money for someone who knew how to find
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