The Ten Seconds Before the Fireworks Went Dark

Everything went dark and the police are pushing people and the parking lot is full and—” “Listen to me,” Elias said, forcing his voice steady. He scanned the black water, the shoreline, the smoke climbing above the harbor. “Take Mia to the nearest fire station. Don’t use the main road. Don’t touch any drone that’s on the ground. Keep your location on and send it to me.” “What do you know?” “Enough to know this is not an accident.” Before she could answer, he heard tires screech behind him. A black SUV burst through the barrier at the end of the service lane and crushed a line of temporary barricades like they were cardboard. Its windows were tinted black. The driver’s face was impossible to see.