I was wrong.

You could see the dull red-orange glow of flames coming from St. Louis a long way off against the cold night sky, and low-hanging, constantly rumbling clouds.

I hate this, Cherise said, fidgeting anxiously. Shed been fidgeting a long time, nervous with the crackle of power in her blood and the fear of actually letting it loose. Id managed to get that through her head, finally, and wed done long hours of power exercises, with Kevin as her spotter, to teach her how to use the aetheric properly, how to center her power and ground it, how to use it in more delicate ways than sledge-hammering every problem into smithereens, along with everything that wasnt a problem.

She was actually not sucking at it. I couldnt help but feel that maybe this was a little bit due to my excellence as a teacher, but it probably wasnt.

Over the radio, Davids voice said, I need to prepare you for whats coming. That was ominous, because hed never said that before, and wed already been through some rough patches on the way. He sounded very sober. Youre going to come up on some problems in the next ten miles. Ill direct you on the blockage in the road, but we may have to take detours as things get worse.

Thats it? Roadblocks? I felt a little surge of irritation. Not exactly news, David.

Its not cars, he said. Its people. Theyre desperate, and theyre terrified, and theyre angry. Theyll attack the car if it gets too close. They think they can run to safety, but there is none.

That was very different, and we all knew it. Cherise asked, in a small voice, How many people?

Right now, there are three main groups, he said. Two of them are fighting each other for food and transportation. All together, they number about fifty thousand.

Fifty Words failed me. I couldnt even echo the number. I glanced in the back and saw that Cherise was staring fiercely at the radio, tears welling in her eyes. Fifty thousand people. Refugees.

That would imply they have some kind of refuge to flee toward, David said bleakly. They dont. If they try to leave, theyll get picked off by the storms, the fires, the sinkholes. Animal attacks. And theres no safe harbor for them, not anymore.

The Wardens, Kevin began.

They already killed the Wardens who were trying to help them, David said flatly. Mob mentality. Just dont get close. If you dont share their beliefs, theyll kill you, too.

What beliefs?

Kevin didnt need to ask the question, because we topped the next hill and saw the first of the crowds that David was talking about. They were filthy, ragged, wild-eyed, and armed with rifles, axes, sharp sticksI didnt see a single person who didnt have some kind of weapon, even if it was just a stone to throw. A few were carrying badly painted signs that looked like they might have been written in dried blood.

REPENT OR DIE.

Oh man.

You want to know the biggest joke? Whitneys voice said, echoing through the silence in the car. These are the Episcopalians. You dont even want to run into the hard-shell Baptists right now, brothers and sisters.

Kevin crossed himself. He did it in a rush, like it came from someplace deep within him, and I wondered how hed been brought up, in his early days. Catholic, probably. Cherise and I had both been churchgoing girls, too, until recently; I wasnt what I could call committed, but I had always honored God. Wardens never doubted the presence of higher powers. Heck, we had a direct line to something, even if it wasnt the Head Bearded Guy.

But this . . . this was people clutching at straws, using religion as an excuse for murder and destruction. And it made me sad and angry.

We avoid them, I said. Some of the crowd had already caught sight of us and were streaming in our direction. If we cant stop them, we have to stay out of their way.

But theyre just people, Cherise said. The same people whod help you out if you had a flat tire. What happens to them? What happens to us?

Survival, I said softly. Its selfish, and its dark, and weve always been a species willing to do anything to satisfy our needs. Individuals have morals. Mobs have appetites.

The Djinn had taken a sharp left turn down a side road and rocketed along it at insane speed, dodging falling tree branches, a wrecked and still smoldering SUV, and some things in the road that it took me long-delayed seconds to realize were actually dead bodies. I started to ask, but then I realized that I didnt want to know how bad this was, how far it had gone. I just wanted to stop it.

And I didnt see any way to do that.

Misery crept up on me, and I swallowed hard against an ache in my throat and stomach. I wanted David. I wanted his arms around me, his strength beside me.

Jo, his voice said, and I closed my eyes and pretended he was here, physically here. It was easier than Id thought. Maybe I was going crazy. This has happened before. Its happened in other countries, to other people; its even happened here, in some areas. Riots, purges, wars, genocide. Theres never a moment on Earth when someone isnt suffering and dying at the hands of others. You know that. Human nature isnt your fault.

I know, I whispered. But it feels like it is.

Maybe he would have tried to offer me more therapy, I dont know, but right then, Cherise screamed and yelled, Stop the car!

David must have been the one in control, because there was no debate about it. The Djinn braked the Boss to a stop on the damp pavement in a noisy slide.

Uh, Cher, that mob is still heading this way, Kevin said, sensibly checking out the rearview mirror. Might take them a few minutes, but

Cherise wasnt listening. She bailed out of the car and darted out into the glow of the headlights, and I saw her scramble over debris toward the side of the road. Dammit, I said. Kevin. Go with her. Hurry.

He was already on his way, and shot me an irritated look. Like I wasnt going to anyway, he said. Thanks, Mom.

I was so glad he wasnt my kid. It felt like cowardice, but I stayed behind. I was nothing but a liability right now, and at least one of us needed to stay with the car. Kevin didnt seem to mind that decision in the least. In fact, he grinned fiercely as he passed through the headlights, plunging after Cherise to the side of the road.

It seemed to take forever. I watched anxiously through the back window. The mob was coming, and I could hear them screaming. It was a deep, animal roar, and I imagined this was how those soldiers throughout history had felt, holding their ground and waiting while the enemy charged.

It wasnt good.

I got so focused on the approach of the crowd that it surprised me (complete with yelp) when Cherise yanked open the back door and climbed in with something bundled in her arms in a dirty blanket. It squirmed. Kevin piled in after, looking grim, and yelled, Go go go!

Off we went, leaving the swiftest of the mob to clutch at a spray of gravel and dust.

The bundle in Cherises arms wailed. It wasnt the cry of a hungry or tired baby; this was moreaware. A toddler, maybe two or three years old. Cherise unwrapped the blanket, and I saw a small, round face capped by shiny, thick black hair. The child looked as miserable as I felt.

Cher, I said. We cant

Kevin leaned forward, cutting me off. There was a whole family back there, he said. Mom, dad, two other kids. This ones the only one still breathing. So shut up, okay?

I swallowed. What happened to them?

What do you think happened? They had something. Somebody else wanted it. Probably a car; they didnt look like theyd been walking, and they didnt have any bags.

Kevin was right. I couldnt say no to helping this kid. Maybe I should have; maybe Lewis would have. Maybe he would have said something about the greater good and saving the most number of lives.