"So none of us has a knife," Percy muttered, with his usual ability to cut right to the point of a matter.

We're so stupid, Matthias thought. Why weren't we sleeping with our clothes on under our pajamas? Why didn't we have all our tools stuffed in our pockets, all the time? He knew the answer. They'd gone soft, living indoors. They'd started to believe they belonged in central heat, with electricity and hot and cold running water. They'd started to trust in their own safety.

It's all my fault, Matthias thought. He was the oldest. If he'd told the other two to stay on constant alert, they would have.

Angrily, he yanked on the belt holding him in place, straining against the trap he'd been caught in. Amazingly, the belt pulled clean away from the wall.

He was free.

Matthias stared at the unattached metal end of the belt in disbelief. He held it up into the dim light, just inches from his eyes, trying to puzzle out how it'd come apart.

"Matty!" Percy exploded in a low voice. He shoved Matthias's hand down. "Don't let them see."

Matthias hid the metal end of the belt back against the wooden wall. He was thinking again.

"Pull on your belts," he hissed to Percy and Alia. "Maybe they'll come loose too."

But no matter how much Percy and Alia strained and tugged and pulled, their belts stayed firmly locked in place.

The Population Police officers were done loading chil' dren onto the truck now. Several children were crying, but no harsh male voices barked orders at them anymore. The sobs floated up toward the dark sky unmixed with any sound except the churning of the trucks' engines. All the officials, Matthias realized, had retreated back to the trucks' cabs.

They were about to drive away.

Percy and Alia seemed to grasp the situation at the same time Matthias did.