Gone

and waving down to him. He remembered that day. She was almost always asleep during the morning hours when he surfed. But this day she came to watch.
    She’d been wearing her blue and white flowery wraparound skirt and a white blouse. Her hair, much lighter than his own,blew in the stiff breeze, and she seemed frail and vulnerable up there. He wanted to yell to her to step back from the edge.
    But she couldn’t hear him.
    He yelled up to her, but she couldn’t hear him.
    He woke suddenly from the memory that had become a dream. There were no windows, no way to see if it was day or night outside. But no one else was awake.
    He slid off the gurney and stood up, careful to make no sound. One by one he checked on the others. Quinn silent for once, no sleep-talking; Edilio snoring on the cushions Astrid had given him; Astrid curled on one end of the couch in the office; and Little Pete asleep at the other end.
    Their second night without parents. That first night in a hotel, and now here, in this nuclear power plant.
    Where tomorrow night?
    Sam did not want to go back to living in his home. He wanted his mother back, but not their home.
    On the desk in the plant manager’s office Sam spotted an iPod. He wasn’t optimistic about the musical taste of the manager, who, judging by the family photo on his desk, was about sixty years old. But he didn’t think he could go back to sleep.
    He crept as silently as he could across the office, almost brushing Astrid’s hand. Around the desk, shifting the chair ever so slightly, leaning carefully away from a shelf of trophies—golf, mostly.
    A sudden movement at his feet, a rat. He jumped back and slammed into the glass-shelf trophy display.
    There was a tremendous crash.
    Little Pete’s eyes flew open.
    “Sorry,” Sam said, but before he could speak another syllable, Little Pete began to screech. It was a primitive sound. An earsplitting, insistent, repetitive, panicky baboon sound.
    “It’s okay,” Sam said. “It’s—”
    His throat seized and choked off any sound. He couldn’t speak.
    He couldn’t breathe.
    Sam clutched at his throat. He felt invisible hands wrapped around his neck, steel fingers choking off his air. He slapped and pried at the fingers, and all the while Little Pete screeched and flapped his arms like a bird trying to fly.
    Little Pete shrieked.
    Edilio and Quinn were up and running.
    Sam felt blood in his eyes, darkening his vision. His heart pounded. His lungs convulsed, sucking on nothing.
    “Petey, Petey, it’s all right,” Astrid said, soothing her brother, stroking his head, cuddling him against her. Her eyes were desperate with fear. “Window seat, Petey. Window seat, window seat, window seat.”
    Sam staggered into the desk.
    Astrid fumbled for Little Pete’s Game Boy. She turned it on.
    “What’s happening?” Quinn yelled.
    “He heard a loud noise,” Astrid yelled. “It startled him. When he’s scared, he freaks. It’s okay, Petey, it’s okay, I’m here. Here’s your game.”
    Sam wanted to yell that it was not okay, that he was choking, but he couldn’t make a sound. His head was swimming.
    “Hey, Sam, what are you doing?” Quinn demanded.
    “He’s choking!” Edilio said.
    “Can’t you shut that stupid kid up?” Quinn yelled.
    “He won’t stop until everyone is calm,” Astrid said through gritted teeth. “Window seat, Petey, go to your window seat.”
    Sam fell to one knee.
    This was crazy.
    He was going to die.
    Fear took hold of him.
    His world was going black.
    His hands, palm out, pushed at nothing.
    Suddenly there was a brilliant flash of light.
    It was as if a small star had gone supernova in the plant manager’s office.
    Sam fell, unconscious.
    He was conscious again ten seconds later, on his back, the scared faces of Quinn and Edilio staring down at him.
    Little Pete was silent. His too-pretty eyes were glued to his video game.
    “Is he alive?” Quinn asked in a faraway voice.
    Sam breathed in, sharp and sudden. Then another breath.
    “I’m okay,” he rasped.
    “Is he okay?” Astrid asked in a voice edged with panic, but controlled to avoid setting Little Pete off again.
    “Where did that light come from?” Edilio demanded. “Did you guys see that?”
    “Dude: they saw that on the moon.” Quinn’s eyes were wide.
    “We are out of this place,” Edilio said.
    “Where can we—” Astrid said.
    Edilio cut her off. “I don’t care. Out of this place.”
    “You got that right,” Quinn