Heading for the town plaza. At the corner of Golding she paused to attack the school. She burned it in detail, firing the deadly light through long-shattered windows. She burned until the smoke began to billow and terrified kids who had sheltered there came running out. Some made it. Others did not. She turned on Alameda, still carrying Sam by his chains, dropping him when she wanted both hands free to spread destruction. “You definitely got the most useful power, Sam,” she said. “I’m very glad you’re still alive.” Many of the houses in the area were already burned, others had been knocked down, but a few still stood, and these Gaia burned out. People fled like rats, leaping over fences, piling over mounds of rubble, and for Gaia it was almost a game, a shooting gallery. People screamed and died. Or just died. The counterattack came at the corner of San Pablo and Alameda. Guns fired from the roof of the town hall. BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! Carefully aimed, but it was a hard shot in the smoke, with cinders in the air.
