We’re deep in the woods, the highway far behind us, when I notice BK gliding in circles through the trees.

Down here, I call out to him.

I let go of Six’s hand so that BK can see us. He flutters down, transforming into a squirrel as soon as he hits the ground.

“BK says there’s a guy up ahead,” I tell them. “No sign of any trouble.”

“Good. Let’s move.”

I take Six’s hand and we pick up the pace, soon emerging from the woods and into the small town of Fouke. It really isn’t much more than just a pit stop. The road that connects to the highway exit continues on to the east. I see a few small houses in that direction and what I assume is the town proper. Where we are is pretty much the beginning of the town, right where travelers would pull off from the road. There’s a two-pump gas station next to us and a post office across the street. All the windows are dark, everything closed and locked up for the night.

And then, there’s the Monster Mart.

The billboards on the way into town really oversold it. The Monster Mart is really just a convenience store with Boggy Creek Monster T-shirts and hats on sale in the window. The main attraction is the twelve-foot wooden statue of the Boggy Creek Monster, a hairy beast that looks like it’s part man, part bear, and part gorilla. Even at this distance, I can see the statue is pretty much covered in bird poop.

“There!” whispers Sarah excitedly.

I see him too. There’s a boy up ahead, sitting cross-legged at the base of the statue. He looks bored as he unwraps a sandwich from some wax paper. A backpack rests next to him, but no sign of a Loric Chest that I can tell. I expected him to at least have that. It would’ve made it easy to identify him. Then again, it would’ve made it easier for the Mogadorians too.

I start forward, but Six stays planted, not letting go of my hand.

“What is it?” I whisper.

“I don’t know,” she replies quietly. “He’s just out here all alone? It all seems too easy. Like a trap.”

“Maybe,” I say, looking around again doubtfully. There are no signs of life except for us and the boy at the statue. If the Mogadorians are lying in wait, they’re doing a really good job hiding.

“Maybe he just got lucky,” Sarah whispers. “I mean, he has managed to stay hidden longer than the rest of you.”

“How do we know he is who he says he is?” Six continues.

“Only one way to find out,” I say.

I let go of Six’s hand and start across the street.

I don’t try to conceal my approach. He notices me almost as soon as I step away from Six and into the yellow glow of the streetlights. He drops his sandwich and hops quickly to his feet, reaching both hands into his pockets. For a moment I think he’s about to pull some kind of weapon on me and I feel my Lumen start to warm up in anticipation. Instead, he pulls two small balls from his pockets, one of them a rubber bouncy ball and the other a steel ball bearing. He rolls them deftly across his knuckles, watching anxiously as I approach. It’s like some kind of nervous tic.

I stop a few yards away from him.

“Hey.”

“Uh, hey,” he replies.

At this distance I can finally get a good look at our would-be Five. He’s about my age, shorter and stockier, not necessarily chubby but definitely built like a barrel. His hair is brown and short, a military buzz-cut style. He’s wearing one of those goofy Boggy Creek Monster T-shirts and a pair of baggy jeans.

“Are you waiting for me?” I ask, not wanting to just come out and ask if he’s Loric. He could be some weird country kid eating a sandwich at night all by himself, I guess.

“I don’t know,” he replies. “Let me see your leg.”

I hesitate for a moment, then reach down and lift up the leg of my pants. He breathes a sigh of relief as he looks over my scars. Then, he lifts up his jeans and shows me his matching set. Through some deft sleight of hand, the two balls disappear back into his pocket and then Five strides forward, his now-empty hand extended.

“I’m Five,” he says.

“Four,” I reply. “My friends call me John.”

“A human name,” he says. “Man, I’ve had too many of those to even remember.”

We shake hands. His grip is like a vise, he’s so excited. For a moment, I’m worried he won’t let go. I clear my throat and try to discreetly tug my hand away.

“Sorry,” he says, dropping my hand awkwardly. “I’m just psyched. I’ve waited so long for this. I wasn’t sure anyone would see my message. It’s not easy making a crop circle, you know? I didn’t want to do it again.”

“Yeah, that wasn’t such a good idea,” I say. I start looking around again, still worried that Mogadorians are going to appear at any moment. Crickets chirp nearby and beyond that I hear the sound of engines from the highway. Nothing to get nervous about, but I still can’t shake the feeling of being exposed.

“Not a good idea?” Five says excitedly. “But you found me! It worked. Did I do something wrong?”

Five seems so eager to please, like he’s just waiting for me to congratulate him on his crop-burning stunt. It’s as if he never considered it could attract unwanted attention, which strikes me as naïve. Maybe I’m judging him too harshly, but he seems soft to me. Sheltered. Or maybe I’ve spent too much time around hard cases like Six and Nine.

“Don’t worry about it,” I tell him, “it’s fine. We should get going.”

“Oh,” he mutters, his face falling. He looks away from me, scanning the area. “Is it just you? I hoped maybe you’d gotten together with some of the others.”

On cue, Six and Sarah materialize at my side. Five stumbles backwards, nearly tripping over his backpack.

Six steps forward. “I’m Six,” she says, blunt as ever. “John is too nice to tell you that your crop-circle stunt probably could’ve gotten you killed. It was stupid. You’re lucky we got here first.”

Five frowns, looking from Six to me. “Wow. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause trouble. I just—I didn’t know what else to do.”

“It’s okay,” I say, nodding at his pack. “Grab your stuff. We can talk it out on the road.”

“Where are we going?”

“We’re bringing you back to the others,” I say. “We’re all together now. It’s time to start the fight.”

“You’re all together?”

I nod. “You’re the last one.”

“Wow,” Five says, looking almost embarrassed. “Sorry I’m late to the party.”

“Come on,” I say, waving again at his pack. “We really need to move.”

Five leans down and grabs his backpack, and then looks at Sarah, who’s been standing by silently. “What number are you?”

She shakes her head. “I’m just Sarah,” she says, smiling.

“A human ally,” breathes Five, shaking his head. “Guys, my mind is officially blown.”

Six shoots me a look of bewilderment. I’ve got the same feeling. Maybe we’ve been through too many fights and close calls, but it seems like Five is way too casual. We should already be on the move, away from this place, and he just wants to stand here and chat.

“Look,” Six snaps, “we can’t just stand around gabbing. They could be co—”

Six is cut off by the sudden roar of a noise overhead. It’s a sound made by no earthly machinery. We all look up just as the silver Mogadorian ship throws on its floodlights, momentarily blinding us. Five, shielding his eyes, turns to look at me.

“Is that your ship?” he asks.

“Mogadorians!” I shout at him. Already, dark shapes are descending from the ship, the first wave of Mogadorian warriors on their way to attack.

“Oh,” says Five, blinking confusedly at the ship. “So that’s what they look like.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“GET THE XITHARIS STONE OUT!” I SHOUT TO Six. “If we all go invisible now, we can get away before they’re on us.” She begins fumbling through her bag and pulls it out, but it’s too late.

Before she can do anything, the air around us crackles as the first wave of Mogadorians let loose with blaster fire.

My bracelet expands just in time to deflect a pair of shots that would’ve hit me right in the chest.

Instead, the fire hits the ground close enough to Six to send her toppling backwards. As she’s falling, she tosses Five the Xitharis Stone, but he just stares at it, clearly unsure of what it is. There’s no time to school him. Beyond the first group of Mogs, I can see more of them zipping down on ropes from the belly of their ship. We’re going to be outnumbered in a bad way soon.

Sarah has already dived behind a nearby parked car. On her side in the dirt, she squeezes off shots with her pistol. I watch the first two kick up dirt at the feet of the nearest Mogadorian, and then the third nails him right in the sternum. The Mog disintegrates and Sarah takes aim on another.

Six went invisible as soon as she hit the dirt. I’m not sure where she is now but storm clouds are suddenly roiling overhead on what moments ago was a calm and clear night. She’s definitely getting ready to strike.

Five is next to me, rooted in place, still staring at the rock in his hand. My shield is taking a lot of blaster fire now. Five would probably have already been gunned down if he wasn’t right next to me.

“What are you doing?” I scream at him, roughly grabbing his arm. “We have to move!”

Five’s eyes are wide and unresponsive. He lets me pull him backwards. I toss him to the ground behind the statue of the Boggy Creek Monster. The wooden statue quickly explodes into a thousand charred pieces, but the concrete base holds off the rest of the blaster fire for now. I let my Lumen ignite on my unshielded hand, building up a sizable fireball. Five watches me, staring in shock at the swirling flames. I ignore him for the moment and lean out from cover, launching the fireball at the nearest group of Mogs. It engulfs three of them, turning them to ash instantly. The rest scatter.

I hear raindrops starting to fall, although none are hitting me. In fact, the rain seems localized over by the Mogadorian ship. Thunder rumbles. Whatever Six’s play is, I trust her.

“Are you all right?” I shout over to Sarah. The car she’s hiding behind is only a few yards away, but it feels like the length of an entire battlefield.

“I’m fine!” she yells back. “You?”

“I’m good, but I think Five is shell shocked or something!”

I notice three Mogadorians cutting across the street, trying to flank Sarah. Before they can, I reach out with my telekinesis and yank their blasters out of their hands. Seeing them, Sarah shoots the closest one right between the eyes. Before the rest can draw their swords, a lithe shape lunges at them from the shadows.

Bernie Kosar in the form of a panther, his black fur nearly indistinguishable from the night, tears out the throat of a Mog he’s pinned down, then slashes the other across the face. That group decimated, BK slinks around the side of the car, staying close to Sarah.