FIRESTORM

At first there was a sound like a roaring wind in herdreams.
Then a tearing noise filled the air, the crackle of drybrush inflamed, and the smell of smoke swept over Tally,bringing her suddenly and completely awake.
Billowing clouds of smoke surrounded her, blotting outthe sky. A ragged wall of flame moved through the flowers,giving off a wave of blistering heat. She grabbed her knapsackand stumbled down the hill away from the fire.
Tally had no idea in which direction the river lay.
Nothing was visible through the dense clouds. Her lungsfought for air in the foul brown smoke.
Then she spotted a few rays from the setting sunbreaching the billows, and she oriented herself. The riverwas back toward the flame, on the other side of the hill.
Tally retraced her path to the top of the hill and peereddown through the smoke. The fire was growing stronger.
Fingers of it shot up the hill, leaping from one beautifulflower to another, leaving them scorched and black. Tallycaught the glimmer of the river through the smoke, but theheat pushed her back.
She stumbled down the other side again, coughing andspitting, one thought in her mind: Was her hoverboardalready engulfed in flames?
Tally had to get to the river. The water was the onlyplace safe from the rampaging fire. If she couldn’t go overthe hill, maybe she could go around.
She descended the slope at full tilt. There were a fewspots burning on this side, but nothing like the gallopingflame behind her. She reached level ground and made herway around the base of the hill, crouching low to theground to duck under the smoke.
Halfway around, she reached a blackened patch wherethe fire had already passed. The brittle stems of flowerscrunched under her shoes, and the heat coming off thescorched earth stung her eyes.
Her footsteps ignited with flame as she ran through theblackened flowers, like stabbing a poker into a slumberingfire. She felt her eyes drying, her face blistering.
Moments later, Tally spotted the river. The firestretched in an unbroken wall across the opposite shore, aroaring wind pressing at its back and sending embers flyingacross to alight on the near side. A rolling billow of smokesurged toward her, choking and blinding her until itpassed.
When her eyes could open again, Tally spotted theUGLIES 173shiny solar surface of her hoverboard. She ran toward it,ignoring the burning flowers in her path.
The board seemed untouched by the flame, protected bygood luck and the layer of dew it collected every nightfall.
She quickly folded the board and stepped onto it, notwaiting for the yellow light to turn green. The heat hadmostly dried it already, and it rose into the air at her command.
Tally took the board over the river, just above thewater, and skimmed her way upstream, looking for a breakin the wall of fire to her left.
Her grippy shoes were ruined, their soles cracked likesunbaked mud, so she flew slowly, scooping up handfuls ofwater to soothe her burning face and arms.
A noise thundered to life on Tally’s left, unmistakableeven above the roar of the fire. She and the board werecaught in a sudden wind, shoved back toward the othershore. Tally leaned hard against it and stuck a foot into thewater to slow the board. She clung tightly with both hands,desperately fighting being thrown into the river.
The smoke suddenly cleared, and a familiar shapeloomed out of the darkness. It was the flying machine, itsthundering beat now obvious above the raging fire. Sparksjumped across the river as the machine’s windstorm stirredthe fire to a new intensity.
What were they doing? she wondered. Didn’t they realizethey were spreading the fire?
Her question was answered a moment later when a174 Scott Westerfeldgout of flame shot from the machine, squirting across theriver to ignite another patch of flowers.
They had set the fire, and were driving it on in everyway they could.
The flying machine thundered closer, and she glimpsedan inhuman face staring at her from the pilot seat. Sheturned her board to fly away, but the machine lifted up intothe air, passing right over her, and suddenly the wind wastoo great.
Tally pitched off and into the water. Her crash braceletscaught for a moment, holding her up above the waves, butthen the wind caught the hoverboard, much lighter withouther on it, and spun it away like a leaf.
She sank into the deep water in the middle of the river,knapsack and all.
It was cool and quiet under the waves.
For a few endless moments, Tally felt only relief to haveescaped the searing wind, the thundering machine, the blisteringheat of the firestorm. But the weight of the crashbracelets and knapsack pulled her down fast, and panicwelled up in her pounding chest.
She thrashed in the water, climbing up toward theflickering lights of the surface. Her wet clothes and geardragged at her, but just as her lungs were about to burst,she broke the surface into the maelstrom. Tally gulped afew breaths of smoky air, then was slapped in the faceUGLIES 175by a wave. She coughed and sputtered, struggling to stayafloat.
A shadow passed over her, blacking out the sky. Thenher hand struck something—a familiar grippy surface. . . .
Her hoverboard had come back to her! Just the way italways did when she spilled. The crash bracelets lifted herup until she could grab on to it, her fingers clinging to itsknobbly surface as she gasped for air.
A high-pitched whine came from the nearby shore.
Tally blinked away water from her eyes and saw that theRusty machine had landed. Figures were jumping from themachine, spraying white foam at the ground as theycrashed through the burning flowers and into the river.
They were headed for her.
She struggled to climb onto the board.
“Wait!” the nearest figured called.
Tally rose shakily to her feet, trying to keep steady onthe wet surface of the board. Her hard-baked shoes wereslippery, and her sodden knapsack seemed to weigh a ton.
As she leaned forward, a gloved hand reached up to grabthe front of the board. A face came up from the water, wearingsome sort of mask. Huge eyes stared up at her.
She stomped at the hand, crunching the fingers. Theyslipped off, but her weight was thrown too far forward, andthe board tipped its nose into the water.
Tally tumbled into the river again.
Hands grabbed at her, pulling her away from the hover-176 Scott Westerfeldboard. She was hoisted out of the water and onto a broadshoulder. She caught glimpses of masked faces: huge, inhumaneyes staring at her unblinkingly.
Bug eyes.