Gone Series: Plague Part 14

SO VERY, VERY sweet to be out of that bas.e.m.e.nt. To be breathing fresh air.

Drake stuck close to the shadows of burned-out houses so the fresh air smelled of ash and charcoal and melted plastic. But it was better than the mildew and dust in the bas.e.m.e.nt.

Drake had a list in his head. Sam. Caine. Dekka. Brianna. They would die first. As quickly as Drake could kill them.

That had been his big mistake with Sam at the power plant. He had taken his time to enjoy whipping him. Even now the memory of it sent a shudder of sheer pleasure through Drake's body.

But he had taken too long killing Sam and then Brianna had showed up.

Not this time. This time he would start by killing Sam. Then, if he could find him, Caine.

That was the thing with the powerful freaks, you had to kill them quick. You had to strike with speed and surprise.

Sam. Caine. Dekka. Brianna. Orc and Taylor, too.

And then, with them gone, he could take his sweet time with Astrid. And even longer with Diana.

Drake laughed out loud.

Jamal said, "What's so funny?"

"I'm Santa Claus, Jamal. Making a list, checking it twice."

Jamal stayed a few steps behind him. Toting his big automatic rifle in his one good arm. The other arm in a makeshift sling. Scared out of his mind, no doubt. Still feeling the burn of Drake's whip. Oh, yes, he would feel that for quite some time.

"Where is Sam staying?" Drake asked Jamal.

"Albert sent him off to look for something out in the woods or whatever. Out there." Jamal gestured vaguely. "I wasn't supposed to know, but I heard."

Drake turned on Jamal. "What? Sam's not here?" He'd missed out on a lot, being trapped like an animal.

"He'll be back in a couple days, I guess."

Drake cursed. "Where's Caine, then?"

"He's on some island, like, where these rich dudes lived in the old days."

Worse and worse.

No. No ... Better and better.

Drake grinned. Neither of the big powers was around to stop him. Change of plans.

"Dekka?"

Jamal shrugged. "I don't know, man, I don't follow that scary d.y.k.e around town."

"Now, now," Drake chided mockingly. "We mustn't diss people because of what they are." He took Jamal's face in his hand and squeezed. "I'm going to kill her but not because of what she is, right? I'm going to murder her because she has to be murdered. You good with that, Jamal?"

Jamal was as tense and stiff as a board. He made an affirmative grunt.

"You down with murder?" Drake pressed, sticking his face right in Jamal's. "I want to hear it from you."

He watched as a curtain dropped behind Jamal's eyes. Jamal said, "Yeah. Yeah, Drake."

"Then let's go murder some people," Drake said cheerfully and released Jamal's face.

Drake walked half a block and stopped.

"Not now," he groaned. He cursed extravagantly, but already he was changing. Metal braces formed on his teeth. His lean body grew flabbier.

"Brittney's coming," Drake snarled. "But I'll be back, Jamal. Don't for-"

Sam, Dekka, and Jack had stopped for a meal a half mile from Hunter's camp. Some cooked fish that smelled none too fresh, boiled artichokes, and some pigeon jerky.

They'd thought about just going to sleep, but no one had wanted to. The horror was far too fresh. Sleep would only mean nightmares. And Sam did not want to see Hunter again.

In the dark they could only make slow progress, but everyone wanted some distance and to get the expedition done. The high spirits were gone. Fear and loathing tracked them in the dark.

Jack was trailing well behind when Sam and Dekka had started talking, killing time as they walked slowly, cautiously, through waist-high brush. Talking, talking about anything but Hunter's sad cries.

It had started with Sam admitting that yes, he had made a play for Taylor but noting that he had been very, very drunk. From there it had gone to his relationship with Astrid, which he did not want to talk about. Any thought of Astrid was laced with pain and loneliness. What he had done to Hunter, what he had seen happening to Hunter, filled him with a powerful longing to be with Astrid. They had been through so much already. How many times had he held her and rea.s.sured her everything would be all right? How many times had she kissed him and put her arms around him when she knew he was spiraling down into depression?

From the start, from the first day, they had been each other's strength.

Not that they'd never fought. They were both strong willed and they had fought many times over things large and small. But the fights had always gone somewhere, they'd been worked through and resolved.

But now this cold distance between them. Something inside Astrid had broken after Mary's death. That day had killed some part of Astrid and now it was like she didn't even care enough to fight.

Sam said some of that to Dekka, talking out of sheer loneliness and need. But it made him uncomfortable, like he was betraying Astrid even talking about her.

And the truth was, so much of the problem between him and Astrid wasn't about anything earth-shattering, it was just about s.e.x. And Sam couldn't really talk about that without sounding more like a jerk than he could stand.

So he diverted the conversation to Dekka. Which led to talking about Brianna. And Sam found himself quickly trapped in a conversation that was every bit as uncomfortable as talking about Astrid.

"I know you mean well, Sam," Dekka was saying.

"The worst that happens is Brianna says, 'No way, I'm not gay.'" He glanced back at Jack to make sure he was out of ear-shot.

Dekka sighed. "You don't understand, Sam. You think that's all there is to it, just be honest. But see, right now I have this little, tiny like, like flower of hope, right? It's not much, but it's what I am holding on to. I just ... I can't have her look at me and laugh. Or make a face and be grossed out. Because then I have nothing."

It was the longest speech Sam had ever heard Dekka deliver.

"Yeah," he said. "I get that." He fervently wished he'd never opened his mouth.

There was a noise in the bushes off to one side. "Is that you, Jack?" Sam called in a loud voice.

"I'm over here," Jack said, from the completely opposite direction. "I'm ... I'm peeing."

Sam stopped. He made a gesture to Dekka, indicating she should shield her eyes. Then he launched a fireball into the air, a Sammy sun. The bushes immediately became a green-tinged ghost s.p.a.ce.

Just off the trail a coyote flinched at the light but did not run away. It snarled, bared its teeth, and crouched for a leap.

Dekka was faster than Sam. The coyote found itself floating a few feet off the ground, unable to kick, unable to leap.

It was a bizarre sight, the mangy, dirt-yellow coyote squirming and yowling in midair. But at last it let itself go limp.

"Why are you attacking us?" Sam asked. "Does Pack Leader know you're trying to kill humans?"

"I Pack Leader," the coyote said in its strangled, weird voice.

Sam stepped closer. Humans were not the only creatures to have evolved in the lawless universe of the FAYZ. One of the earliest had been the coyotes who served the gaiaphage. Some had mutated to develop the shorter tongues and flattened muzzles that allowed them a mangled sort of speech.

"Look," Jack said. He was coming closer, pointing. "He has them, too."

Sam walked cautiously around Pack Leader to see the other side. There were the insect jaws protruding from the matted fur. Two, maybe three of them.

"I came for hunter kill me," Pack Leader said.

Sam knew this was not the original Pack Leader. Lana had killed that Pack Leader. But whether this was the second coyote to hold the t.i.tle or some other coyote, he didn't know. This one had slightly better powers of speech than the first.

"Hunter's dead," Sam said.

"You kill."

"Yes."

"Kill me, Bright Hands."

Sam had no sympathy for the coyote. The coyotes had partic.i.p.ated in the town plaza ma.s.sacre. There were bodies buried in the cemetery that had been so badly ripped by coyote teeth that they were unrecognizable.

"The flying snakes cause this?" Sam asked, pointing at the awful parasites.

"Yes."

"Where are they?"

Pack Leader made a purely coyote growl deep in his throat. "No words."

"Then show us," Sam said. "Take us to them."

"Then you burn me?"

"Then I'll burn you."

At first Brittney was confused. She wondered if she was dreaming. Dreaming of fresh, cool air and a sky overhead.

But no, she was not in the bas.e.m.e.nt.

Drake had escaped!

She had to do something. Had to warn someone. Even if it meant being returned to the bas.e.m.e.nt. If Drake was loose in the world, he would do evil.

But to be locked away again ... Surely she could take just a moment to be free. Just a moment ...

She realized she was not alone.

"Who are you?"

"Jamal. I ... I work for Albert, kind of. A bodyguard, like."

The boy stood stiff, rigid, hand gripping the stock of his rifle too tightly. His other arm had been hurt.

"Why are you here, Jamal? Are you here to catch Drake?" She noticed a few feet of rope coiled and hung from Jamal's belt. "I don't think you can tie him up. He's very dangerous."

"I know that," Jamal said. He was tugging the rope free.

Brittney suddenly understood why Jamal was there. She bolted.

Jamal ran after her.

"Don't run or I have to shoot you," Jamal cried.

He was faster than she was. Everyone was faster than Brittney. But he was fumbling one-handed with the rope and had to sling the gun over his shoulder. All Brittney had to do was run.

She burst into the town plaza. Not knowing what she was looking for, not consciously. But she found herself running up the stone steps toward the ruined church.

Jamal caught her on the steps, grabbed her hair, and yanked back. Her legs went out from under her and she fell hard on her back, slamming onto sharp-edged granite.

But Brittney no longer felt real pain. She had long since gone beyond pain.

Jamal tried to straddle her, but he tripped on the rope and she pushed away from him.

"Stop it!" Jamal yelled.

Brittney rolled down a couple of steps, climbed to her feet, and plowed straight back into Jamal. She knocked him aside and dashed past him.

The church roof had collapsed long ago. But a path had been cleared to the inside. The cross had been propped back upright, leaning a bit but still there, silver in the moonlight.

Brittney ran toward the cross, tripped on debris, and slammed into a pew.

Jamal was on her in a flash, cursing, fumbling, trying to grab her, swat away her punching hands, trying to get the rope around her.

"No! No! No!" Brittney shouted.