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 5
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