The racket outside wasn’t helping her concentration. Neither were thoughts of Xander she couldn’t shake off—his anguished expression, his certainty she was responsible for that hatchet job in theSeattle Timesand that damn Save Souvenir Planet FriendBook group, which swelled to thousands over Easter weekend. Didn’t people have better things to do with their time?
It didn’t take much digging to find out an underling at NASDEV had set up the social media campaign—a fact Xander might have discovered on his own, if he hadn’t been so busy blaming her.
The unfairness of his accusation burned, as did his refusal to answer her voicemails or texts. Hell, he’d probably blocked her.
Deep down, she knew she had only the thinnest sliver of a chance with Xander, but she couldn’t surrender hope—not with him so near and hurting just like she was.
Almah joined Mom at the window. “Look, there’s a TV news van!”
What the…?She pushed to her feet and trotted to their side in time to see picket signs bobbing past.
“Holy crapoly,” Fred exclaimed, joining them. “Are they wearing alien masks?”
Some were. Others wore headbands with silver antennas. Antennae? Whatever—these people, and another group of at least ten, all dressed in alien paraphernalia, were trooping toward Xander’s parking lot.
“Hannah, hon, grab my jacket.” Mom said with a backward wave. “And my recorder too.”
“Mom, your sciatica.” Except for medical appointments, Linda hadn’t left theBeaconbuilding in weeks. Even hobbling down the stairs was a painful ordeal for her.
“Oh, bosh. It’s just across the street. As long as my hard-headed daughter is determined to keep theBeaconopen, I might as well contribute one last story before I hand over the reins.”
“Hand over the… Mom?” Heart galloping, she snatched up the items her mother requested, along with her cane, and sprinted after the three older reporters.
The mob’s chants rang out loud and clear. “Save Souvenir Planet! Save the Vortex!”
She found her mother in close conversation with a woman wearing a lime green spandex bodysuit and a UFO-shaped hat.
“Mom, are you serious? You’re letting me keep theBeacon?”
Mom waved her off with an indulgent smile. “Doesn’t look like I can stop you. We’ll talk later, darling. Now, if this isn’t the story of the decade, I’m not Italian. Go cover it, Editor-in-Chief.”
Head spinning, Hannah urged Almah and Fred to keep a close eye on her mother, then scanned the crowded parking lot for Xander. No sign of him, but what a wild ruckus! Homemade UFOs of aluminum foil and spray-painted foam bobbed above the protester’s heads. On the cab of a bulldozer, someone in a silver lamé space suit danced to EDM blasting from the old-school boom box at his feet.
Daphne bopped up wearing one of Gus’s greatest hits, a headband with spring-mounted glittery alien heads. “Isn’t this amazing?”
“It’s terrible!” Hannah clutched her heart.
Her friend tilted her head like a confused puppy. “I thought you wanted Xander to see how much people love Gus’s aliens.”
“I do, but the building is unstable.”
“Oh, shit, that’s right.” Daphne’s eyes widened. “Should all these people be so close?”
“No, they definitely should not. I’ve gotta stop this.”
It wasn’t going to be easy, though, as the protest was quickly morphing into a giant open-air party. Dancers clustered around the bulldozers bounced and fist-pumped along with Mr. Silver-Butt’s music, while at the other end of the parking lot, someone set huge speakers atop a muscle car and cranked up spacey techno tunes. Meanwhile, under the veranda’s sagging roof, Colonel Malinowski and his equally red-faced partner in crime, Professor Alterman, took turns bellowing into megaphones, riling up the protestors.
Hannah shoved and prodded and jabbed until she reached the chief rabble rousers.
“Give me that! She yanked the Colonel’s megaphone from his hand and faced the crowd, stretching up on her tiptoes.
“People! Listen up! You need to back away from the building.”
At least a hundred faces turned toward her, some painted silver, some neon green.
“Save the Vortex! Save Souvenir Planet!” The chant pulsed like a wave, threatening to knock her off balance.
“Save the whales!” some smart-ass yelled.
