Holden

Mr. Kruger yanks the tarp off the Device.  A cloud of dust bursts into the air and snakes directly into Holden’s lungs.

“Does it still work?” he asks, after he’s done coughing.

Kruger runs a hand along a piece of metal that might be a wing, or a blade.  “I have no idea.  She only worked when she wanted to.”  He whips a look at Holden, and suddenly Holden knows why the other kids don’t want to hang out with Mr. Kruger.  “You sure you want this?”

Holden thinks of Billy Budrup’s stupid ugly face.  “Yeah,” he nods.  “I am.”

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