Jack was three hundred yards away. The whole race had lasted just over a second, though it had felt longer in Brianna’s subjective experience.

“Did you do it?” Jack shouted.

She trotted back to him at a pace she now thought of as pokey—probably no more than eighty or ninety miles an hour—and laughed.

“Totally,” she said.

“I couldn’t even see you. You were here. And then you were there.”

“That’s why they call me the Breeze,” Brianna said, giving him a jaunty wink. But then her stomach reminded her that she had just burned up the day’s calories. It rumbled so loudly, she was sure Jack must hear it.

“You know, of course, that a breeze is actually a slow, meandering sort of wind,” Jack said pedantically.

“And you know, of course, that I can slap you eight times before you can blink, right?”

Jack blinked.

Brianna smiled.

“Here,” Jack said cautiously. He handed the gun to her, butt first. “Take this.”

She stuffed it into the backpack at her feet. She drew out a can opener and the can of pizza sauce she’d saved up. She cut the lid from the can and drank the spicy slop inside.

“Here,” she handed the can to Jack. “There’s a little left.”

He didn’t argue but tilted the can up and patiently waited as no more than an ounce of red paste slid into his mouth. Then he licked the inside of the can and used his forefinger to spoon out whatever he hadn’t been able to reach with his tongue.

“So, Jack. Whatever happened to you getting the phones working again?”

Jack hesitated, like he wasn’t sure he should tell her anything. “They’re up and running. Or will be as soon as I get the word from Sam.”

Brianna stared at him. “What?”

“It was a pretty simple problem, really. We have three towers, one here in Perdido Beach, one more up the highway, and one on top of the ridge. There’s a program that checks numbers to make sure the bill has been paid and so on, so that the number is authorized. The program isn’t in the tower, obviously, it’s outside the FAYZ. So I fixed it so that all phones are authorized.”

“Can I call my mom?” Brianna asked. She knew the answer, but she couldn’t quash the bounce of hope in time to stop herself from asking.

Jack stared in confusion. “Of course not. That would mean penetrating the FAYZ barrier.”

“Oh.” The disappointment was like a sharp pain. Brianna, like most of the kids in the FAYZ, had learned to deal with the loss of parents, grandparents, older siblings. But the hope of actually speaking with them . . .

It was her mother Brianna missed most. There was a big age gap between Brianna and her little sisters. Brianna’s father had been out of her life since the divorce. Her mother had remarried—a jerk—and then had had twins with him. Brianna liked the twins okay, but they were eight years younger than she was, so it wasn’t like they hung out together.

It was Brianna’s stepfather who had insisted on sending her to Coates. His reason was that her grades were falling. Which was a lame excuse. Lots of kids had trouble with math and didn’t end up getting shipped off to a place like Coates.

Brianna had talked her mother into standing up to her stepfather. This was going to be her last year at Coates. Next year she was going to be back at Nicolet Middle School, in Banning. Back where she belonged. Not that there weren’t some tough kids at Nicolet, but there were no Caines, no Bennos, no Dianas, and definitely no Drakes.

No one at Nicolet had ever encased her hands in a block of cement and then left her to starve.

Besides, it would be so cool to blow all her old friends away with her new power. Their heads would explode. Their brains would melt. She could be a whole track team all by herself.

“There are no satellites to link to,” Jack was going on in his pedantic way. He was definitely kind of cute. And she thought he was kind of interesting. Kind of cute mostly because he was so clueless while at the same time being scary smart. She had noticed him even before, back when Coates was just a miserable hellhole and Jack was only on the periphery of the Caine clique.

“Why hasn’t Sam told anyone?” Brianna asked. “Why hasn’t he turned the system back on?”

“There’s no way to stop the Coates kids from using it, too, unless we disable the tower up on the ridge. Or unless I figure out a way to replace the entire authorization protocol and then authorize only certain numbers. Which would be a big programming job since I would be starting from scratch.”

“Oh.” Brianna peered closely at him. “Well, we don’t want to do anything that will help Caine and Drake and that witch, Diana. Do we?”

Jack shrugged. “Well, I was scared of Drake. I mean, everyone is scared of Drake. But Caine and Diana, they were okay to me.”

Brianna didn’t like that answer. The “interested” smile she’d worn for him evaporated. She held up her hands. The scars from Drake’s cruel “plastering” were gone. But the memory of that abuse, and the horror of starvation, especially now that it was back, were still fresh. “They weren’t so nice to me.”

“No,” Jack admitted. He looked down at the ground. “But still. I mean, they all—Sam and Astrid and all—they asked me to figure it out, the phones I mean, and I did. I want . . . I mean . . . I mean, I did it. I did it. It works. So we should turn it back on.”