Spencer had arrived in Broken Bear the day before in the company of a mechanic. He'd given the man two bullets and a gallon of fuel to say he was Spencer's father. Spencer had spent the night on an oily garage floor, which wasn't great, but he'd slept in worse places. At least no one was drunk or threatening to cut someone's eyes out for snoring.

He was standing next to a drain pipe, trying to look inconspicuous while eating a sandwich. Alex had made it for him. It was heavy with pork and dripping with honey, which was Alex's favorite even if it wasn't Spencer's. Still, the fact that Alex was willing to share some of his prized honey meant more to Spencer than Alex would ever know.

Spencer was waiting for the Bad Enders to show up, but didn't want to look like he was waiting for the Bad Enders to show up. That could cause problems later.

When Christine had found out that he was front and center in the big operation, she had licked his ear, the left one, of course, from lobe to tip, and made him promise to tell her all about it when he got back. After some consideration, Spencer marked it as the third best moment of his life to date.

Christine was assigned to a decoy group that was riding north. It was a small group, unlikely to attract much attention from anyone, even those who would cause Alex trouble. It was arguably the safest job available today, and Spencer was pretty sure Alex had done that for his benefit, too.

The townspeople were on edge. They had heard about Alex's plan, and they were taking precautions. Alex said this was all right. The more nervous they were, the easier things would go. Spencer munched on his sandwich, and tried to remember not to look too calm about an impending explosion.

Hunters had arrived this morning, and that did make Spencer nervous. Alex had said that this might happen, and that it, too, was all right, but Spencer wasn't so sure. Spencer counted eight of them. He didn't want to be nervous. The girls carried swords and axes. Alex's crew was one of the few groups that still rode with plenty of bullets. What could edged weapons do against a small army of armed Bad Enders? Still, these people fought Gods. With magic.

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Spencer took another bite of his lunch, the honey oozing down his chin. He was dabbing at his face with a handkerchief when he saw dust kick up in the distance.

They were here.

The Hunters were already shepherding people out of the town. Spencer's instructions were not to interfere with any evacuation attempts. Alex didn't actually care if anyone died or not. What mattered was the symbolism.

As far as Spencer could tell, two of the Hunters were going with the fleeing citizens, probably to protect them. Six Hunters now. Six was less than eight, so that was good.

The Bad Enders' convoy was led by Curiosity Carl's big rig, flanked by a fleet of trucks and motorcycles. The rig rolled to the center of town, and stopped with a loud squawk. Spencer couldn't actually see any of the Hunters right now, and he worried for his friends. Simone du Weir hopped out of the rig, and climbed onto the hood. She shook out her long black hair, opened a fancy scroll of paper, and started to read.

The plan was to give Broken Bear ten minutes to evacuate. Anyone left in town at that time had better be right with their maker. That was what the scroll said, more or less, just with a lot of big words.

Simone had only just opened her mouth to read it, when a sparkling blue projectile shot across the sky and tore the scroll in half. That irked Spencer. Alex had made him stay up last night printing that scroll in his neatest handwriting. He'd had to start over three times.

The small blue object turned in the air, and sailed back toward a blonde girl, who stepped out from a building and caught it. She hopped up on the roof of the building as easily as Spencer might step over a puddle. The Hunter puffed out her chest, and shouted at the convoy.

"Alex with Malice

Came way down to Broken Bear

Got his fool ass beat

A haiku by Rigby Denton."

So it would be a fight, then.

A bright blue flare burst above the town. Spencer didn't like that. A flare was a signal. Signals implied a plan.

But Spencer had a plan too.