We woke to the explosions and jumped on our bikes. Many of us were armed with nothing more than cardboard tubes, and rubber bands and paper clip ammo wiggled to mean barbs like our hearts. Others had sling shots and ball bearings, exploding bottles of tacks and cherry bombs, Molotov confections launched from lawn chair catapults, spray-can blow torches set off by our fathers’ regimental Zippos, and traps and cages, webs and nets, chutes and pits, culs de sac and labyrinths mobilized from our mothers’ kitchens, pantries, clotheslines and boudoir mirrors. Some girls had weapons of stamped tin and plastic spewing sparks or cap-gun sulphur, or battery powered plastic with dial-up sounds of semi-auto to auto fire. Mixed in and hard to find were lasers, tasers, phasers, or microwave heaters, screamers, jammers or buzzers. Also, plasma rail guns, neural disruptor-imploder Alzheimer’s rays, or inter-dimensional purgatory immolation fields. We quickly spread out into the smoke and fire, took up positions in the rubble, and found our targets.