Gone Series: Plague Part 11

But with his hands he could feel. The thing on his shoulder.

His ear ... gone!

A terrible fear wrung a cry of horror from Hunter.

He couldn't feel it, his ear, or his shoulder, couldn't feel with anything but his fingers and he felt, reached beneath his shirt, felt the flesh of his belly pulse and heave.

Like something inside him.

No, no, no, it wasn't fair. It wasn't fair!

He was Hunter. The hunter. He was doing his best.

He cried. Tears rolled down his cheeks.

Who would bring meat for all the kids?

It wasn't fair.

The sound of munching, crunching started again. Just in one ear.

Hunter had only one weapon: the heat-causing power in his hands. He had used it many, many times to take the life of prey.

He had fed the kids with that power. And in a moment of fear and rage he had accidentally taken the life of his friend, Harry.

Maybe he could kill the thing that was eating his ear.

But it was too late for that to help.

Could he kill himself?

He saw Old Lion's head, eyes closed, hanging where he'd hung him for skinning. If Old Lion could die, so could Hunter.

Maybe they would meet again, up in the sky.

Hunter pressed both palms against his head.

Drake was free! Before him the shattered door. Above him a collapsed ceiling. His jail cell had been torn apart by his own jailer.

Now Drake was worried. At any minute the Brittney Pig might emerge. She could call for help, run to Sam, something, anything.

Drake had Jamal's gun. He ran his whip hand over it, loving the feel of it, loving the weight of it in his hand. With this gun and his whip he was unstoppable.

Except that he wasn't just himself, he was Brittney, too.

His mind raced feverishly. What could he do?

Jamal groaned. He started to get up but leaned on an arm that gave way with a sickening crunch.

Jamal shrieked in pain. His left arm hung limp, the shoulder dislocated. There was blood running freely from his nose. Blood seeping out of his ears. Oh yeah, Drake thought, the boy had taken a hard fall.

Drake straddled Jamal. He wrapped his whip arm around Jamal's throat, cutting off his cries of pain. He pressed the gun barrel against Jamal's forehead.

"You have three seconds to make a decision," Drake said, his voice silky. "Are you with me or against me?"

It didn't take Jamal three seconds. "I'll help you, I'll help you!" he blurted as soon as Drake relaxed the pressure on his throat.

"Yeah? Well, listen good, jerkwad, because I don't give second chances. Mess with me, disobey me, even hesitate, and I won't kill you."

Jamal's brow creased in confusion.

"No, see, death, that's the end of pain," Drake said. "No, no killing. But I will whip you."

With sudden gleeful ferocity Drake reared back and struck with his whip hand. It cut through Jamal's pants and cut a stripe on his thigh.

Jamal bellowed.

Drake struck again, twice more while Jamal writhed and tried to cover himself with his one good arm.

"I wanted you to know what it will feel like," Drake said. "Hurts, doesn't it?"

Jamal was crying now, crying and too terrified to answer.

"I said: it hurts, doesn't it?"

"Yes! Yes!" Jamal sobbed.

"No matter what you do, Jamal, no matter how smart or how tough you think you are, if you betray me, if you even look like you might betray me, I'll whip you. And I'll make it last. For hours. And I'll leave you where the Healer can't find you. Do you believe I'll do that, Jamal?"

Jamal nodded frantically. "Yes! I believe it!"

"I can't be killed, Jamal," Drake said.

"I know!"

Drake handed him the gun. He watched closely to see whether Jamal truly did understand. He could see the moment when Jamal thought, "I can shoot him and run away."

But he also saw the wheels spin in Jamal's head as the boy worked it through to the inevitable conclusion.

He saw Jamal's resistance evaporate.

"Smart boy," Drake said. "Now, here's what you do."

Chapter Ten.

52 HOURS, 37 MINUTES.

"WHY DID WE have to sneak out of town in the nighttime?" Jack grumbled. "I'm tripping over everything."

Jack, Sam, Dekka, and Taylor were across the highway, past the gas station, and climbing uphill. Moonlight touched the tall, dry gra.s.s with silver. But it didn't reveal the smaller rocks that poked up through the dust-dry ground and stubbed toes or tripped you so you landed on your hands and knees and looked like an idiot.

Jack was not interested in going on some long, dangerous walk. Especially at night. Or in the daytime, for that matter. What he wanted to do was just lie in his bed. Just lie in his bed and read.

He had a pile of books. They were the only thing to do. No internet. No computers. Not even electricity.

Of course that was his fault. His fault for being tricked by Caine and especially that witch, Diana.

He had a hard time saying no to girls. Especially Brianna, who seemed to be able to get him to do anything she wanted.

Brianna kind of lived with him. They were kind of going together, he guessed. Although they didn't actually do anything. Like make out or anything. That didn't happen.

Jack had thought seriously about asking Brianna if she would make out with him. She was cute. He liked her. He guessed she liked him. They had taken care of each other when the flu was going around.

But ... It occurred to Jack that Sam had not answered.

"Why are we sneaking out in the night?" Jack repeated.

"I already explained," Sam snapped. "If you don't listen-"

Taylor jumped in to say, "Because otherwise Astrid would find some way to stop him." She mimicked Astrid's voice, injecting it with steel and a tense, condescending tone. "Sam. I am the smartest, hottest girl in the world. So do what I tell you. Good boy. Down, boy. Down!"

Sam remained silent, walking steadily just a few feet ahead.

Taylor continued, "Oh, Sam, if only you could be as smart plus as totally goody-goody as I am. If only you could realize that you will never be good enough to have me, me, wonderful me, Astrid the Blond Genius."

"Sam, can I shoot her now?" Dekka asked. "Or is it too soon?"

"Wait until we're over the ridge," Sam said. "It'll m.u.f.fle the sound."

"Sorry, Dekka," Taylor said. "I know you don't like talking about boy-girl things."

"Taylor," Sam warned.

"Yes, Sam?"

"You might want to think about how hard it would be to walk if someone were to turn off gravity under your feet every now and then."

"I wonder who would do that?" Dekka said.

Suddenly Taylor fell flat on her face.

"You tripped me!" Taylor said, more shocked than angry.

"Me?" Dekka spread her hands in a completely unconvincing gesture of innocence. "Hey, I'm all the way over here."

"I'm just saying: you can see where that could make a long walk just a lot longer," Sam said.

"You guys are so not fun," Taylor grumped. She bounced instantaneously to just behind Sam. She grabbed his b.u.t.t, he yelled, "Hey!" and she bounced away innocently.

"To answer your question, Jack," Sam said, "we are sneaking out at night so that everyone doesn't know we're gone and why. They'll figure it out soon enough, but Edilio will have to have more of his guys on the streets if I'm not there playing the big, bad wolf. More stress for everyone."

"Oh," Jack said.

"The big, bad wolf," Taylor said. She laughed. "So, when you play that fantasy in your head is Astrid Little Red Riding Hood or one of the Three Little Pigs?"

"Dekka," Sam said.

"Hah! Too slow!" Taylor said. She was suddenly twenty feet away and behind Dekka.

They had reached the ridge. The trees started in the valley beyond and spread up the next hill. The small valley tended to capture damp breezes off the ocean-back when there were breezes. And a small stream-now almost dry since it was cut off from the high, snow-capped peaks beyond the barrier-ran along the floor of the valley.

"Try not to make too much noise, huh, guys? Hunter may be out hunting. We don't want to stomp around and scare off his prey."

"So no more falling on your face, Jack," Taylor teased.

A sound, a wail, rose from the trees downhill. "What was that?" Jack asked.

It came again. A cry of utter despair.

Jack expected Sam to take off running. Instead he took a deep breath and in a low voice said, "I don't think you guys need to see this."

"See what?" Taylor asked.

Sam set off downhill. He didn't ask them to come with him. But he didn't order them not to. So they followed.

Once in the pitch-blackness under the trees Sam used his powers to turn one hand into a sort of dull, glowing green light. It made it easier to see the trees, but it turned everything into a nightmare scene.

"Hunter?" Sam called out.

"Don't come here!" Hunter's voice, wracked with sadness, was closer than Jack expected.

They followed the sound of his voice. Closer, and now they could hear him crying. It wasn't a big kid's cry, it was like a toddler's. Big, heaving sobs.

Again Sam said, "Guys, stay back. You don't have to see this."