picking

and raised her head. "But he's been gone a long time, now that I think about it. I wonder—"
Helen rummaged under the blanket, searching for the other lantern. When she found it, she rose and headed for the stairs. "Stay here," she commanded. "I'll find him."
* * *
But Lars found her, instead. And brought the terror back.
"People are coming," he hissed. "With guns."
Startled, Helen lifted her eyes. She had been looking at the floor, picking her way through the debris which filled what seemed to have once been a wide hallway. From a corner twenty feet ahead and to her left, Lars flicked his lantern on and off, showing her where he was hidden.
She extinguished her own lantern and moved toward him, as quickly as she could in the darkness.
"Who are they?" she whispered.
"Most of 'em are Scrags," came the answer. "Must be a dozen of 'em. Maybe more. But there's some other people leading them. I don't know who they are, but they're real scary-looking. One of them has some kind of gadget."
Helen was at his side, her hand resting on the boy's shoulder. She could feel the tremor shaking those slender bones.
"I think they're tracking us with it, Helen," he added. His voice was full of fear. "Our smell, maybe. Something."
Helen felt a shiver of fear herself. She knew that there were such devices, because her father had mentioned them to her. But the