“It was the last time I was here,” Elle said. “Come on.”

“What is this place?” Jay asked. None of the kids were moving.

“It’s a cache.” Elle shined the flashlight in Jay’s face. “Are you going to make me do this alone, or do I have to drag you guys down here?”

Jay grimaced. He hesitantly climbed down the steps. Georgia, Flash and Pix followed suit. Elle handed Jay her spare flashlight.

“Stay quiet,” Elle whispered.

The room was wide, packed with stacks of pallets on which were canned goods and packaged containers of food, like ramen noodles and fruit cocktail.

“Oh, my god,” Georgia muttered. “How did you find this place, shortstack?”

“A few weeks ago,” Elle explained. “It was somebody’s hidden cache, and I’m guessing they’re dead, because they haven’t been back.” Elle paused. “I’ve been adding to the supplies myself. I won’t eat anything unless I can replace it.”

“Is it safe?” Pix asked.

Elle gave her a look.

“Of course not,” Elle replied.

Elle slid between two rows of pallets, next to Flash. The boy was staring at a pile of canned vegetables.

“Why do they call you Flash?” Elle whispered. “Are you a fast runner or something?”

The boy touched one of the cans, a glazed expression on his face.

He was starving. Elle could see it.

“No,” he replied. “Flash. Like the flash drive for a computer.”

“You’re good with computers?”

Flash grinned slightly.

“Yeah. A little.”

The silence was cut by the sound of Georgia’s piercing scream.

Elle’s head echoed with Georgia’s shriek. She sprinted to the other side of the basement storeroom. The girl was pressed against the wall, grabbing Jay’s arm. They were staring at something on the ground.

It was a dead body. A woman. A puddle of dried, pungent blood had pooled beneath the base of her skull. She’d been shot in the head. Her body was just beginning to smell.

“What the hell kind of a place is this?” Georgia breathed.

Elle spun around and held a finger to her lips. Hadn’t she told these idiots to be quiet? But did they listen? No.

Elle took a cautious step forward and peered at the woman’s head. She was middle age, salt-and-pepper hair cut to the chin. There was a small red dot in the center of her forehead. A perfect kill shot.

“Somebody’s been trying to steal my stuff,” Elle whispered.

“I say we get out of here,” Georgia replied.

“And do what? Let whoever shot this lady take all of this food?” Elle shook her head. “No way. I need this food to stay alive — and so do you, now that you’re here.”

Something rustled at the far end of the basement. Elle dropped to the ground, behind a pallet stacked with food. Flash and Pix huddled close to her, with Georgia and Jay right behind them.

“What is it?” Jay hissed. “Elle?”

Fear coiled in the pit of her stomach.

“Someone’s inside,” she whispered.

She nodded toward the other side of the basement, where she’d heard the noise.

“Let’s go,” Pix said. Her tiny voice was trembling. “Please.”

“And leave the food to someone else?” Elle demanded.

“Is it worth dying over?” Jay pointed out. “We should go.”

But Elle was already moving. She crawled on the floor, hiding behind pallets. She drew her bowie knife from her hip sheath, keeping a firm grip on the handle. She flicked her flashlight off, listening, controlling her breathing. The kids still had their flashlight on, illuminating a shred of the basement. She saw a flicker of a shadow on the far back wall.

Ah, there you are.

Whoever was inside was trying to stay hidden, too. At some point Jay recovered from his shock and realized that his flashlight was like a beacon, leading the invaders in the basement straight to their position. He flicked the light off, and all was dark, silent.

Elle didn’t move. She strained her ears for a noise, a tiny indication of human presence. She sat there for several tense minutes, sweat running down her forehead. She heard a shuffling noise, like someone was slowly moving around the far side of the pallet a few feet in front of her. She gripped her knife.

Bam!

The stack of canned vegetables collapsed next to Elle’s shoulder, toppling over her head. She covered her neck with her hands as the tower rained down, leaving bruises. The metal cans hit the cement. It sounded like something had exploded inside the basement. Elle felt her body being shoved aside. It took her just a split second to realize that someone was touching her.

She instinctively grabbed at the figure. She couldn’t see anything, but she felt a leg. She tightened her fingers around the material of a pant-leg and slashed up with her knife. There was a yelp of pain, and the figure collapsed on the pile of scattered cans. Elle slashed again. Whoever it was — a man, Elle guessed — kicked back, slamming Elle’s small body against another pallet. More cans fell down.

From inside the basement, someone screamed.

It sounded like Pix.

Elle rolled to her side, her ribcage throbbing from the impact of the kick. The silent fight continued as the man grabbed her by the hair and yanked her forward. Pieces of hair tore out of Elle’s scalp. She lifted her knife and shoved it forward, sinking into flesh. There was a strangled scream as the hands released her hair. She fell, pulling the knife toward her, feeling it glide through bone and cartilage.

Elle backed away, feeling her way toward the struggle in the back of the basement. The flashlight had been flicked on again, and it was lying sideways on the floor. Elle glimpsed a shadow of Jay struggling against a bigger man. It was impossible to make out faces, but she guessed the man was middle age. Georgia ran forward and pushed off the wall, snapping her boot into the man’s shoulder. He bent over with the hit and Jay shoved his fist into his face.

There were three more people in the back of the storeroom, and the basement door had been opened. More were coming inside.

The cache had been completely infiltrated.

Elle was furious.

“We have to go!” she told Jay. “Now!”

They were sorely outnumbered.

“Alright, kiddies!” someone yelled. It was a male voice, deep and raspy. “Time to stop with the playground antics. One of my men is dead, and that’s not something I’m willing to overlook.” A pause. “Why don’t you just walk to the front of the room and surrender? We won’t hurt you, I promise.”

Sure, they won’t hurt us, Elle thought. They’ll only kill us.

She knelt and grabbed the flashlight, flicking the switch off again. The only light in the basement was the stream of sunlight coming in through the entrance. Three people were standing on the steps.

“Come out, come out wherever you are,” the man drawled.

Elle felt Georgia’s hand in the darkness. She leaned close to her head and whispered, “We have to draw them into the basement, then we’ll dash for the door.”

Georgia relayed the message to the others.

“I know you’re in here,” the man said. “Let’s not make this harder than it has to be. We won’t hurt you. We’ll give you a home. A place with food and water. How does that sound?”

Elle wanted to show him how that sounded, but she knew better.

She rounded the back end of the basement, tiptoeing around pallets. The kids followed suit. Elle silently instructed them to separate across the storeroom. She stayed where she was, almost directly in front of the basement steps.

The man kept talking, trying to draw the kids out of the basement, to the front of the room. Elle knew what he was doing; he was lulling them into a sense of false security, weakening their defenses. She slowly unzipped her backpack and reached inside, feeling for the right object…yes, there it was.