Lex Thomas: Quaranteen

room. He winced and shielded his eyes.

Sam darted behind a nearby column and hid. He braced himself for men in gas masks and haz-mat suits. The soldiers were probably coming to slaughter them once and for all. He peeked around the edge of the pillar just far enough to see Will and the skank. They hadn’t moved. They stood there, like idiots about to be shot. Sam poked his head out farther. He could see the open door to the outside now.

A teen boy with white hair walked in. Sam couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The kid wore dark blue jeans and a ski jacket, and he carried a hunting rifle. He was followed by more white-haired teens, all wearing casual clothes and tot-ing guns. There must have been forty of them.

Sam glanced back to Will and the skank. They were just as dumbfounded as he was.

The kid in the ski jacket homed in on the two of them. His face brightened. He lowered his gun and walked toward them with a big smile.

“You got no idea how long it took us to get that door open,” he said. “You okay? You hungry?”

Will and the skank stared back.

“Don’t worry,” the kid said. “Everything’s gonna be okay.”

“Where are the soldiers?” Will asked.

“Oh, they’re gone,” the kid said. “We came to get you out.” Sam felt small fingers touch his wrist. He jumped and spun around. A girl stared up at him. She had a round, wholesome

face and long white hair that draped over the shoulders of her down vest. She couldn’t have been older than thirteen.

“Hi,” she said sweetly.

Sam slowly snuck the knife down the back of his pants.

“Hi,” Sam said.

“You want some food?” the girl asked. She pulled a granola bar out of her pocket.

His pulse quickened at the sight of the small pistol clutched in her other hand. He smiled.

“Actually, uh… you got any more of those guns?”