The last of the crates were latched to storage compartments inside the 12V vehicles. Their tethers were tightened. Clicks and snaps echoed just outside Dome 101’s rift where the massive vehicles idled like giants summoned to carry them away.

  From the ground level, they looked like monuments of black and white plastic fitted with dollhouse railings, guard posts, command platforms, and enough webbed seating to fill five thousand Tinylings a piece.

  They were finally ready.

  Beau Danning stood on the platform at the back end of the Jeep, arms crossed. A group of militia nearby laughed over something. He heard the tail end of a joke—one of them cackling, “Burned those bugs good! Like a fire-roasted cockroach! Boom! Boom! Boom!”

  The laughter soured something inside of Beau. He turned sharply. “Cool it. Stay serious. Once we pass through those doors, if we even make it, be on your guard.”

  The group quieted instantly. One of the soldiers with soot on his cheeks blinked. “Sorry, sir.”

  Beau stepped forward. “You’re acting like we won the war. We bombed a single fortress. Do you think we killed all the mantids?” He swept his hand toward the ceiling. “There are still Scythians out there, in a world we don’t understand. Don’t be distracted.”

  The militiaman snapped to attention, boots clacking. “Yes sir. I apologize, Commander Danning.”

  Beau returned the salute without hesitation. “We earned this moment. But don’t mistake a single battle won for total victory. The real war’s still ongoing and it’s out there. We’re survivors. We’re family. We’re Black Birds. And we’re not letting some stinking bugs stomp all over our picnic.”

  As if on cue, the sound of electric engines hummed. A pair of plastic-forged semi trucks rolled through the dome’s gate and then parked beside the 12V vehicles. They hauled Little Debbies, Cheez-Its, and Fudge Rounds, all scavenged from the kitchen. The scent hit the air, a starchy sweetness with something wonderfully artificial.

  “Feast’s here,” Beau said, lifting his arms. “Thanks to Bravo Squad and the leadership of Rena Thatcher, we get to feast before our final departure.”

  Rena stepped out of the passenger side of the lead semi truck, helmet under one arm. “We found all of this in the pantry. We had to clear a wolf spider’s nest. No casualties, but a hard fight—this is our last meal before we leave the dome for good. Dig in!”

  Cheers erupted.

  Knives and forks were drawn.

  Residents swarmed the trucks. Some formed lines. Others climbed, sliced, and tore through layers of plastic wrap with the fury of starving rats in a candy vault. The first snack they broke open was the Twinkie box—each golden sponge cake was bigger than a bunker. One kid dove face-first into a Swiss Roll, arms vanishing into the soft chocolate swirls, before his mother dragged him out and scolded him. Other children broke off chunks of chocolate the size of their heads and held them like trophies before biting down on mouthfuls of the sugary treat.

  Rena appeared beside Beau. She held a chocolaty cube of Fudge Round. “Can I offer you a sugar overload, Commander Danning?”

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  He sat beside her on the concrete. The laughter of the colony swirled around them like campfire smoke. He took the chunk of chocolate from Rena and bit into it. The flavorful chocolate cake and the chocolate icing mix made his eyes roll back from the flavor explosion. “This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted. I’m starting to think the stuff in the dome wasn’t even made with real sugar. What have we been eating all of our lives?”

  “Don’t be so sure this is real sugar either.”

  Beau laughed. “True. But it already tastes way better. I hope all of the food in the outside world tastes this good.”

  Their elbows touched.

  The music drifted in. Someone strummed a guitar up atop the roof of the Escalade. A soldier danced with a mop. Laughter rang. For an hour, they played like children and stuffed themselves with chocolate and icing.

  Beau reached up and wiped a smudge of chocolate from Rena’s cheek. She turned slightly—whether startled or shy, he couldn’t tell.

  “We shouldn’t,” she said.

  “No?”

  She exhaled slowly and pressed a palm against her forehead. “Sorry, I’m just struggling with overthinking. Every memory from before two years ago was fabricated. Those were supposed to be my most formative memories. How do I trust love, or feelings, or even hunger if all of it was programmed? Do you know what I mean?”

  He didn’t. Not entirely. He knew the truth, but he accepted there were things they would never know or understand. He had to unpeel every new fact like an onion to reveal the truth inside it. Rena’s onion was apparently much bigger than his.

  “I know one thing that’s real,” he said.

  He reached down and scooped a massive handful of Twinkie sponge and cream. With a grin that teetered between nervous and proud, he smashed it directly into Rena’s face.

  There was a long beat of silence.

  Rena stood frozen. Bits of Twinkie fell off her face and splattered on the ground. Her eyes burned.

  Beau winced. “Too far—?”

  She climbed up onto the flatbed. She grabbed a hunk of Swiss Roll the size of a shoe. Without ceremony, she crawled down, held it above him, and smushed it into his face. The chocolatey sugar filled his mouth and nose, sending him into a choking fit.

  He staggered. Chocolate filled the crevices of his face. He was completely blinded.

  Rena burst into laughter. So did he. The two of them collapsed back against the plastic rim of the flatbed. They were both sticky, laughing, and temporarily younger in their hearts than they felt.

  But it felt good to be with his friend.

  Beau peeled off his helmet and wiped the frosting from his mouth. He turned. Through a break in the crowd, he caught sight of Tessa watching them.

  She quickly looked away.

  Beau’s smile faded, just a little. His stomach twitched—not from the sugar overload.

  They heard Chief Mahoney yelling down from the Jeep’s command center. They craned their necks up and saw him, visibly disturbed. “Mantids spotted!” he yelled.

  Everyone stopped what they were doing.

  That familiar buzzing sound echoed far above them in the darkness of the chamber. There were entire swarms of them.

  “It’s the food!” Mahoney said. “It’s the food!”

  Beau turned to Tena. “We have to leave. Now!”