all right, son?”
Len’s gaze narrowed. “What are you doing?”
“Life is lived moment by moment, Len. Choice by choice. It signifies what it means to be human.”
Lifting up his gun, he pointed it again. Not at Wright this time, or at Reese. At her.
“I can’t let you do this, Virginia. This is our food. Our fuel. It’s not your choice to make.”
Ignoring him, she turned back to the stolid Wright.
“You look so cold. We have a stock of spare clothing. I think some of it will fit you. Do you want a sweater?” Again he shook his head. This time not because he intended to further refuse the offering of food, but because he found himself distracted. His attention had been drawn to Star.
She had paused her feverish eating. Holding a sandwich halfway to her mouth, she had tensed visibly. Her eyes were wide. It was a posture and response Wright had seen before. Out of the corner of an eye he saw that Reese had noticed it too and was already racing for a far corner of the floor. He beat Wright to the spot by half a second.
A loud crack sounded. The bottle Len had been drinking from exploded in his hand. Startled, he gawked at the glass shards and the precious drink that was now dripping from his open palm. Blood oozed from his neck where some of the glass had struck.
The roof exploded.
The digits that plunged through the resultant opening were large, powerful, and metallic. Clamping around a stunned Virginia, they pulled her out through the newly made hole in the roof. Racing for the front door, one of the other survivors screamed at Wright in passing.
“ Damn you! You brought them here!”
Bashing its way through the rapidly disintegrating ceiling, a second mechanical claw missed the accuser but snatched up another survivor.
Wright didn’t have to tell Reese and Star to run. They were already sprinting madly for the store front. Around them was chaos and confusion as the remaining survivors scattered in search of an exit, any exit, while the pair of probing claws sought additional prey.
As they burst free of the mini-mart’s confines, Reese and Wright looked back to see the attacker. Star did not—she just kept running.
“Harvester!” Reese exclaimed without breaking stride.
A mechanical marvel, the machine was many times the size of a human being. Powerful arms and legs sprouted from its body together with an assortment of sensors. Only some of these observed their surroundings by seeing via the normal visual spectrum. Others looked to be attuned to seeing in the infrared, still others in the ultraviolet. Gleaming limbs of dark metal held Virginia and the other snared survivor in an unyielding jointed grasp.
People were screaming and scattering in all directions. Many rushed toward a parking area packed with vehicles, some of which had been laboriously cleaned up and restored. Flanked by the children, Wright headed straight for the painstakingly repaired jeep. They did not reach it—which was fortunate. Looming over the crumpled roof of the store on girder-like legs, the towering Harvester let loose a massive discharge that turned the jeep into an eye-blinding fireball. Wright and his young companions were forced back toward the mini-mart.
While he easily shook off the effects of the blast, the concussion had been too much for Star. Dismissing an odd and unfamiliar surge of emotion, he bent and picked her up. With a curt nod in the direction of a slowly accelerating camper, he led Reese toward it in hopes of intercepting the departing vehicle.
Len cut them off, though not intentionally. A fleeing Saab sideswiped him. He must have hit the fender and hood just right, because he rolled clear with no apparent injury. Reaching the camper, he yanked open the passenger-side door and jumped inside.
The fleeing vehicle did not escape the attention of the Harvester. One shot reduced both the camper shell and the pickup on which it had been riding to flaming scrap. Having gained a head start, it looked to
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