"There’s still three more days," said Jay, brightening a little. "I’ve heard it’s best to buy old comics on Sunday. Maybe we can figure something out for you tonight. Find you some blood."

"Gah!" moaned Doug. "That’s the frustrating part! It’s everywhere! It’s all I can smell! People full of it! And do you know how many characters I’ve seen today with blood in their names? There’s Bloodstorm, Bloodaxe, Bloodlust, Blood-hawk, Baron Blood, Baroness Blood, Bloodhound, the Blood Brothers…Even the superhero on that kid’s bag over there looks like a big drop of blood with a cape."

Jay looked. Doug looked again. It was a big drop of blood with a cape. It said "Type O Hero!" on the side above the Red Cross logo. Jay jumped out of his seat.

"Excuse me," he said to the kid. "What’s that bag about?"

"It’s full of free comics. If you give blood outside."

"Outside?"

"At the bloodmobile."

Bloodmobile, thought Doug. He could drive that around all day.

4

Quick, Robin…To the bloodmobile!

IT WAS IMPOSSIBLE to miss — a long white-and-red school bus parked on the broad sidewalk where the line had been that morning. It must have pulled up after the convention started.

"What are we going to do?" said Jay.

"We’re both going to — ow — we’re going to say we want to donate," said Doug from under his poncho. "You’ll go first, and I’ll scope out the bus, try to figure out where they keep the blood. Then you create a diversion, and I make off with a jar or two."

"They put it in jars?"

Doug adjusted his hood. "I don’t know. A jar or a tube or — It doesn’t matter."

They stopped next to the bus, near the open donor entrance. There was no line here. In the shade, Doug could manage to lift his chin a little and see Jay’s troubled face.