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Gitsh’s voice, urgent and sharp in her earpiece, cut off Clarence in midsentence.

“Company!”

Gunfire erupted, amplified by the overpa.s.s’s brick walls. Margaret’s arms flew up around her head, an instinctive reaction, a panicked reaction. A hand grabbed her wrist, yanking her into a run.

Sunlight. She came out the far side of the underpa.s.s before she even knew that it was Clarence who’d pulled her along.

“Margaret, come on!”

Breath locked in her throat; she stumbled, then regained her feet and ran. That put the sound of gunfire behind her.

In front of her, below the next underpa.s.s, two cars. A compact and a convertible. Just people looking for a place to hide, probably, but apparently Clarence didn’t want to find out for sure.

“This way!” he yelled, then he turned right and started sprint-climbing up the steep, tree-spotted, snowy-dirt slope. Margaret followed, arms pulling, legs pumping, heart hammering.

A hissing sound from behind.

Then a shattering roar.

She looked back—a ball of fire and smoke billowed out from the underpa.s.s, so thick she couldn’t even see the MargoMobiles.

A hand on her a.s.s, pus.h.i.+ng her.

“Move!” Daniel said. “They’ve got f.u.c.king rockets!”

She scrambled up the hill, knees grinding into the dirt and rocks until she remembered the hazmat suit, and then she ran on feet and hands only. Sharp bits poked through the PVC into her palms and fingers, but she could tape those later. They reached the black fence on top of the incline. Her gloved fingers clawed at the rubber-coated chain-link, and she swung over the top before she even knew what she was doing.

More gunshots from behind. Things whizzing past her head.

Daniel crying out.

Margaret pushed off the fence and hit the ground hard. She stood and looked around. White building, Ford dealers.h.i.+p. Behind her, the fence, behind that . . . Daniel, rolling limply back down the incline.

Clarence’s hard grip on her wrist again. “Move!”

They ran away from the dealers.h.i.+p and into an eight-lane road choked with b.u.mper-to-b.u.mper traffic. No buildings on the other side of the street—an empty lot to the left and a parking lot to the right. Some people were looking out of their car windows, but most had heard the explosion or seen the rising smoke and were already abandoning their vehicles, sprinting for cover anywhere they could find it.

Margaret finally regained her balance and yanked her hand away from Clarence.