Vicente was staring up at the thin, glowing material above his head. He touched it lightly with a finger, feeling a tingle of static electricity. "Mrs. Quinn... what in the name of the apocalypse world is this? It's thinner than a polythene, yet it's stopping tank-killers."
"Don't ask," Sunshine said, she scanned the data the System was feeding her. "Focus on who is trying to turn us into charcoal. Who did you piss off today, Vicente? This cannot be some random attack. Assuming that Hannibal over there is not responsible for it." She glanced at Mrs. Krotchner.
Vicente let out a dark laugh. "I've crossed a lot of people, Mrs. Quinn. My list of enemies is longer than the broken bridge of Ferry Island. But I cannot be sure that this is someone I pissed off. For all we know, it is someone you pissed off, or it is an attack from your camp with the goal of destabilizing my town."
