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knee.
    Watching Sergio march along the railroad tracks in front of her, she gauged that she was taking almost two strides to his one. And he was only thirteen, and six inches shorter than she was. She could see right over his head as it bobbed along in front of her.
    She burst out laughing.
    Sergio hiked up his pants for the hundredth time since the platoon began the day’s march east, and turned to look at her.
    â€œWhat’s so funny?”
    â€œYou ever hear the expression, ‘If you’re not the lead dog, the view never changes?’”
    Sergio frowned. “I don’t think so.”
    â€œDoesn’t matter. I was just walking along, thinking that saying isn’t true if you’re a head taller than the dogs in front of you.”
    â€œHar-de-har-har,” Sergio said. A couple of the other young troops groaned.
    â€œMaintain silence,” Lieutenant Carter, their lead dog, called over her shoulder. Carter wasn’t a head shorter than Laurel—she was the same height, carrying two hundred fifty pounds of beef, her brown skin mottled with burn scars from a close call with a Luyten heater.
    Laurel wondered why silence was necessary. In a traditional war you were silent so the enemy couldn’t hear you coming, and to increase your chances of hearing them coming. Luyten could hear their thoughts, and if they heard Luyten coming, it was too late to do anything but say a prayer.
    They cleared the stone ridge that had hugged the railroad track for the past mile or so, and a town came into view. Dead-end streets with ratty Cape Cods, a main street with a carpet outlet on the end. There was no one in sight.
    â€œWhere do you think we’re going?” Sergio asked.
    â€œProbably to that pizza place,” Diamond said, pointing at the dilapidated, abandoned restaurant. In a few years Diamond would have become a cheerleader, with her long, skinny legs and pretty round face, but now those skinny legs only made it harder for her to carry a full pack.
    â€œRight,” Sergio said, “we walked for two days to get pizza.”
    â€œI’m joking ,” Diamond said.
    â€œI’d walk two days for pizza,” Todd chimed in, speaking over Diamond. He was sixteen, and usually stayed out of the sillier conversations.
    â€œI’m guessing we’re headed for Cincinnati,” Laurel said. Often she felt more like a camp counselor than a soldier. She spent much of her time mediating pointless disputes while choking back tears at the thought of these kids being slaughtered by jewel-colored aliens the size of elephants.
    â€œI bet they’re taking us to rendezvous with the ‘secret weapons,’” Jared said. He’d pulled out his little game player, was using some of its precious battery power, somehow playing his basketball game while simultaneously watching where he was going. Laurel had no doubt he’d been a popular kid in school back in Queens, with his big brown eyes and dimpled smile. In that world he and Sergio never would have become friends. Sergio snorted when he laughed, and had no interest in basketball unless superheroes were playing.
    â€œThere ain’t no secret weapons,” Diamond said. “Every couple of months there are rumors of something that’s going to save us, and it always turns out to be bullshit.” She yanked at one of the shoulder straps on her pack, trying to tighten it.
    â€œWell, Lieutenant Carter told me it’s true this time,” Jared said. His voice hadn’t even changed yet. “She said there’s something in the works, and it’s going to change everything.”
    Up ahead, the tracks met up with a small river and curved right along the bank.
    â€œShe’s a lieutenant ,” Diamond said. She was behind Laurel, so Laurel couldn’t see her rolling her eyes, but knew she was. “They don’t tell her anything. You think they’d tell her about a secret weapon