“Look, why don’t you just work on the internet thing you’re trying to do?” Astrid suggested.

Jack shot her a poisonous look. “Why, so you can not use that, either? Make me look like an even bigger fool?”

Sam was ready to snap at Jack, tell him to shut up, go away, stop bothering him, but that would be a bad idea, so he took a deep breath, summoned all his patience, and said, “Jack, I cannot make promises. I’m dealing with a lot of stuff. First priority, before we worry about techie stuff, is—”

“Techie stuff?” Jack interrupted. His voice was shocked and indignant.

“That’s not a diss. I’m just saying—” But whatever he was about to say was forgotten when Edilio appeared in the doorway. He didn’t rush in as Jack had done. He just stood there looking pale and solemn.

“What?” Sam asked.

“The zekes. They’re in the melon field now.”

“They’re spreading,” Astrid said.

“I could have got all those kids killed,” Edilio said. He looked like he’d seen a ghost. He was trembling.

“Okay. Enough,” Sam said, standing up, pushing his chair back sharply.

Finally.

Finally something he could actually do.

He should have been worried. And he was. But the emotion that filled his mind as he strode purposefully from the room was relief. “The list is going to have to wait, Astrid. I’m going to kill some worms.”

Two hours later Sam stood at the edge of the melon field. Dekka was beside him. Edilio had driven them there in the open Jeep, but he was not stepping foot on the ground.

“How you see this playing out?” Dekka asked.

“You lift them, I burn them,” Sam answered.

“I can only reach a little area at a time. A circle, maybe twenty feet across,” Dekka said.

The word had spread that Sam was going to throw down with the zekes. So other kids had piled into cars and vans and now a couple of dozen watched from a safe distance. Some, looking like tourists or sports fans, had brought cameras.

Howard and Orc arrived as well. Sam was relieved. He’d sent word to Howard that he might need Orc’s help.

“T’sup, Sammie?” Howard asked.

“More worms. We’re going to see if we can do some pest control.”

Howard nodded. “All right. And what do you want with my boy?” He jerked his thumb toward Orc, who stood leaning back against a car hood, his weight almost flattening the tires and denting the sheet metal.

“We can’t kill all the zekes,” Sam said. “But Astrid thinks they may be smarter than your average murderous mutated worm. So we’re sending a message: don’t mess with us.”

“Still not seeing what Orc is here for.”

“He’s our canary,” Sam said.

“Our what?”

“Coal miners in the old days would carry a canary down with them,” Sam said. “If there was poison gas, the canary would die first. If the canary was okay, the miners knew it was safe.”

Howard took a moment to digest that idea. He laughed sardonically. “I used to think you were soft, Sam. Now here you are all cold and hard, wanting to send Orc in there to get chewed up.”

“It took them a while to get to his face last time,” Sam said. “If we see any worm activity, he comes right out.”

“Cold and hard,” Howard said with a smirk. “I’ll talk to my boy. But he doesn’t work for free. You know that. Four cases of beer.”

“Two.”

“Three.”

“Two, and if you argue anymore, I’ll show you just how cold and hard I can be.”

With the deal done, Sam looked over at Dekka. “You ready?”

“I am,” she said.

“Let’s do it.”

Dekka raised her hands high over her head. She aimed her palms at the nearest edge of the melon field.

Suddenly, in a rush, melons, vines, and a cloud of dirt rose into the air, a dark pillar. Worms could be clearly seen, writhing within the ascending cloud.

Sam raised his own hands to shoulder height. He spread his fingers.

“This is going to feel good,” he muttered.

Blazing fire shot in two green-white bolts from his palms.

Melons exploded like soggy popcorn. Vines crisped. Clods of dirt smoked and melted in midair.

The worms died. They died popping open from the superheated steam of their own blood. Or they died shriveling up like ash curlicues, like Fourth of July snakes. Some did a little of each.

Sam raked his flamethrower up and down the pillar, aiming anywhere he saw movement. In places where he lingered, the dirt grew so hot, it glowed red and formed flying droplets of magma.

“Okay, Dekka, let go!” Sam yelled.

Dekka released her hold. Gravity worked again. And the whole molten, smoking pillar fell back to earth. It sent up a shower of sparks as it crashed. Some of the kids who were standing too close yelped as they were hit by droplets of what was almost lava.

Sam and Dekka both backed away hastily, but too late to save Sam a burn that went through his jeans and sizzled a teardrop-shaped spot onto his thigh.

“Water bottle,” he yelled. He grabbed the proffered bottle and doused the spot. “Okay, that hurt. Man. Ow.”

“I saw some very crispy zekes,” Howard commented.

“Let’s go again, Dekka. If you’re up for it.”

“I like melon,” Dekka said. “I’m not giving it up for these worms.”