Chapter 1.
\"No!\" I shouted. \"I won t go. I won t hide in a base-
ment. The world is in flames， and you worry about the
linens， the silver， the books. No， I ll fight this war my
own way!\"
As Mama screamed at me， I dashed through the street
and into another courtyard. An instant later， an enor-
mous blast rocked the area. Debris rained down on my
head. A large wooden trash bin caught my eye. I ran to
it， climbed inside， and slammed the lid shut.
Another blast.
Even the sealed bin filled with smoke and dust. Chok-
ing， I raised the lid aqd peered out. Flames were shooting
from a nearby buildii~g. People lay dead and wounded.
Across the yard， a group of soldiers fired their rifles at
low-flying planes.
Another explosion.
I could see the dead soldiers lying on the street，
I leaped from the bin， grabbed a rifle， and climbed back
in.
Ammunition.
Out again， I stripped the bullets from the dead soldiers.
Back in the bin.
Breathlessly， I studied the weapon. Then I loaded， aimed
at the sky， and pulled the trigger. The kick of the butt
almost tore my shoulder apart， l gasped. I reloaded，
supported the rifle against the lip of the bin， and waited.
The planes came again， low and fast， one after another.
lfired. I loaded and fired. Loaded and fired， as fast as I
;could.
Suddenly， there it was. Smoke trailed from one of the
phnes.
\"l shot him!\" I yelled foolishly. \"I shot him!\"
Dropping the rifle， I climbed out of the bin and raced to
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