Anden stood rooted to the spot for a second. Then he ran after them. He couldn’t say why he did so; he wasn’t a Green Bone, and he wasn’t armed with anything except a compact talon knife. He didn’t think about any of that. The only thing on his mind was the fact that Cory was disappearing up the stairs without him.
“Hey, islander, where are you going? They said to stay put!” Derek shouted after Anden, but neither he nor anyone else moved to actually stop him. On the main floor, Anden saw Mrs. Joek and the other food vendors crouched underneath their tables in fear. Rohn Toro was nowhere in sight. Anden caught up to Cory, who turned, eyes widening with astonishment and alarm. “What are you doing?” he hissed. “Go back downstairs with everyone else!”
A muffled, agonized groan came from behind the metal doors. “Sano,” Tod said. He ran to the entrance and threw it open. The large doorman was slumped against the brick wall, gurgling, bleeding from a profusion of bullet wounds. Tod fell to the man’s side. “Oh shit. Shit.” One of the other men ran to help Tod pull Sano inside. A slick red river trailed after them across the concrete floor. “If only my ma was here, maybe she could do something…” Cory’s voice was trembling. “Can anyone else do medical Channeling?” The others shook their heads, panic on their faces. Anden’s hands closed helplessly; in the Academy, he’d learned the basics of Channeling for first aid, but it was no good to him now. Tod tried anyway, but Anden could see it was already too late; there was too much blood loss and the light was already going from Sano’s eyes. Mrs. Joek began to crawl out from under her table, muffling sobs in the crook of her elbow. “No, stay there,” Cory ordered her.
“Let’s check the front,” Sammy suggested. His voice was a hoarse whisper. “Where the fuck is Rohn?” They hurried to the unmarked interior double doors that led into the front of the building, the community center proper. Anden followed, even though Cory shouted at him again over his shoulder to stay behind. The community center was dark, the tables, chairs, and bookshelves discernible as shadowy outlines. The front windows of the building had been blown out by gunfire; shards of glass glittered on the carpet and the streetlight illuminated the bullet holes in the door and walls. A figure stood in front of the building, looking out at the street, framed by the jagged outline of the shattered window. The air from a nearby grate billowed Rohn’s coat; otherwise, he was as still as a lamppost.
“Rohn-jen,” Cory said as they came up cautiously behind the man, staring at the damage. Rohn held up a black-gloved hand to stop them. “They’re coming back for another pass.” Three cars barreled around the corner, engines roaring. A second later, machine gun fire clattered to life.
Cory fell upon Anden and dragged him to the ground as Rohn, Tod, Sammy, and the other Green Bones threw overlapping Deflections that sent the bullets veering into walls and furniture, into the ceiling where they shattered the lights, and into the floor where they gouged chunks out of the carpet. Anden hit the ground with his shoulder. He heard someone else let out a shout, of anger or pain. “Stay down!” Cory ordered, then his weight was gone as he leapt up to try and help the others.
Several items came flying through the broken windows and tumbled across the carpet. Anden, still on the floor, blinked at the red flame that rolled toward him: a lit rag, stuffed into the neck of a glass bottle full of liquid. In seconds, Anden realized, the flame would reach the gasoline and the homemade explosives would go off and light the building on fire.
Anden lunged forward and grabbed the bottle. He felt a sharp jab in the knee as a piece of glass cut into his skin. Scrambling to his feet, he ran for the broken window. He hefted the bomb to hurl it back out into the street. The burning fabric fell across the back of his hand and he cried out in pain. His throw fell short; it spun end over end toward the sidewalk.
A gloved, speed-blurred hand snatched the burning object out of the air like an intercepted relayball pass. In a burst of Strength and Lightness, Rohn Toro flew toward the black cars as they fled down the street, showing their taillights. Rohn heaved the lit bottle; it sailed like a missile over the top of the rear car, breaking on the hood and igniting in a small wall of fire as gasoline sprayed the windshield. The car swerved and its front right tire ran up onto the curb of the sidewalk. The grill struck a fire hydrant with a crunch of metal. The front doors flew open and two men stumbled out of the car.
Rohn strode up, drawing a revolver from the inside pocket of his jacket. He put two bullets in the chest of the driver. The other man swung up the Fullerton submachine gun he’d used to pepper the building. Rohn shoved him back hard with a left-handed Deflection; the shooter was thrown against the open door of the black car. Rohn shot him in the head. The man slumped to the asphalt, and Rohn put another bullet in his face. Rohn looked down the street; the other two cars were gone.
Anden turned around, clutching his hand, trying to see through the spots of red in his vision and the grit on his glasses. Cory had grabbed one of the other explosives and yanked out the rag; with Steeled hands he was snuffing out the flame, grimacing with pain and intense concentration as he suffocated the fire between his palms. One of the other Green Bones was disarming another unbroken bottle in the same way, but the others were desperately battling fires. One bomb had shattered against the concrete wall outside and was burning itself out, but another had broken against a table inside and lit the carpet on fire. One more had rolled into the room with the Deitist shrine and exploded; a fire raged in front of the replicated mural, igniting the frayed kneeling cushions.
Anden grabbed the nearest thing he could find—a wooly blue area rug from the daycare center—and threw it over the fire in the shrine, stomping it out with his shoes. The woman Green Bone ran into the room with a kitchen fire extinguisher, and after fumbling with the thing for a moment, sprayed foam over the remaining flames. She ran back out to help Tod and Sammy, who were dousing the other fire with buckets of water. In a few minutes, the community center was dark again. Anden staggered back into the main room. The faces around him were streaked with sweat and some were bleeding from glass cuts; hair and clothes and hands were singed. “Seer’s balls,” Tod gasped, bent over with his hands on his knees. “Those were crewboys—Kromner’s people. Those fuckers.”
Rohn Toro stepped back through the broken window as the sound of sirens rose distantly. “Anyone with jade needs to leave now before the police arrive,” Rohn said. “Split up and lie low for a while. Don’t talk to any cops; you don’t know anything about what happened here. I’ll call and leave messages when it’s safe.”
“All the people still downstairs in the grudge hall—we need to get them out,” Cory said.
“I’ll take care of that,” Rohn said. He turned to Anden. “You stay and help.”
Anden nodded dumbly, though he had no idea why Rohn thought he would be useful. Cory protested, “Don’t pull Anden into this; he shouldn’t even be here.”
“He already is,” Rohn said. “I’ll take him back to the Hians’ house afterward.” The sirens barreled closer; still, Cory hesitated. “If you’re caught here now,” Rohn growled, “you won’t be going to Watersguard.”
Cory looked as if he wanted to argue further, then closed his mouth. “Cory, you should go,” Anden urged him. The Pillar’s son gave Anden a distressed look, then turned to the others. “Okay, you heard Rohn-jen.”