“Guys,” Val said into our ears, “he’s there, right in front of David. I can pick out his heat signature.”

Obliteration stepped out of the shadows. He touched a tree and it frosted over, the leaves shriveling. The entire thing died in an eyeblink as Obliteration absorbed its heat.

This time, I didn’t shoot him. I took a chance and shot at the ceiling.

Dust rained down.

Prof fired also. He shot at the ground near Obliteration’s feet.

The Epic looked at us, dumbfounded, then thrust out his hand, palm first.

A shot through the window whizzed over my shoulder and took Obliteration in the forehead—or the glowing outline of his forehead, as he vanished. I