Swipe

ever had. Late for dinner for the third night in a row, and deliberately dodging his dad’s call this time, Logan had come home to find that he was standing on very thin ice. He’d always had a strong relationship with his dad, but in the last few days, he felt like he’d destroyed it almost completely. His dad seemed to be chalking his behavior up to teenage hormones, and Logan didn’t know which was worse—that his dad thought he was turning into a moody, lying teenager, or that his dad had no idea just how much danger Logan was really in.
    “The Fulmart. Where those kids were this afternoon.”
    “What about it?”
    “I hacked into the Spokie power grid—”
    “Erin!”
    “Let me finish. I hacked into the Spokie power grid and fronted some juice to the Fulmart’s old security system. Remember all those cameras on the ceiling?”
    “Nope.”
    “Well, there were cameras on the ceiling; they just weren’t on. So I got them going again. And I tapped into the data stream. I can see everything happening in there, right from my tablet.”
    “Well . . . that doesn’t sound any more illegal, necessarily, than everything else you’ve been up to the last couple of nights.”
    “It isn’t,” Erin assured him.
    Logan sighed and shook his head for her to see over the shaky video connection of his tablet.
    “Well, don’t you want to know what I’ve seen on this thing?”
    “Yes, absolutely,” Logan said.
    “They’re packing up. They’re packing up shop!”
    “What are you talking about?”
    “They’re leaving! The kids are gathering their stuff. They’re moving on!”
    “Isn’t that bad news? They’re fleeing. If they ever did represent a trail for us, it’s about to disappear.”
    “True.” Erin frowned. “But it as good as proves they’re in cahoots with Peck.”
    “You think?”
    “Are you kidding ? Two strangers mention a name to them and a couple hours later these misers are leaving their home ? Yeah, Logan. I’d say that’s a pretty sure sign of a guilty conscience. Sprinkled with plenty of paranoia. We have them running scared!”
    “This is all moving too fast,” Logan said. “I think you were right today about us needing to be a little more careful.”
    “What? No! We can’t slow down now. The tables have turned! Logan, wherever these pikers are going, it’s gonna lead us straight to Peck!”
    “But they’re leaving right now. We’re gonna lose them.”
    “ I’m not,” Erin said. She pointed the camera of her tablet away from her face, revealing her rollerstick and a blur of Spokie streets rushing past. “ I’m almost there.”
    2
    Erin raced through the town at a blinding speed. There hadn’t been time to go to Logan’s and convince him to come along. He just would have argued—and slowed her down.
    Grab this thing by the horns. Get it done. Pull your family back together. Make it back to Beacon .
    Of course, for all its people and flashing lights and noise and busy streets, Beacon never actually had this much excitement.
    Now that she thought about it, Beacon didn’t exactly have Logan either.
    Whatever. He’s just a boy. And he’s mostly not even that good-looking. Or funny. Or cool. And he definitely doesn’t like you much. Doesn’t like you at all, Erin. He’s made that pretty clear .
    He’s just a stupid boy, and Beacon is home. Focus on the mission .
    And with that, Erin pushed all thoughts of Logan away.

    She arrived at the Fulmart parking lot several minutes later and ducked into the shadows to watch the video feed on her tablet. The night was dark. Perfect for a stakeout.
    The scene in Fulmart was unfolding quickly. Below the camera and amid the static of the weak connection, Erin could see the three kids running frantically, stuffing store items into bags, which they’d also taken from off the shelves. They were stocking up. They weren’t coming back.
    A fourth kid entered the scene too. A second girl, it seemed, different from the others. Every once in a while she’d hit one of them, not playfully—hard—and at one point she seemed to try climbing up to the ceiling to get out of the other three’s reach. Finally the larger girl put an end to it with a swift knock to her head.
    Throughout the chaos, the two boys of the group continued to roughhouse. They’d chase one another around the aisles, throw things, wrestle. Something about these kids was deranged. It was clearly a group that stuck together, but everything about its members