Plague (24 page)

“YOU’RE
GOING? ” DIANA asked.

“Of course,” Caine said. “We’re going. We’re even going to bring Penny. She’ll come in handy. Maybe Lana can fix her legs. And then she’ll be very useful at controlling people.”

Caine started whistling happily as he stuffed clothing into a Dolce & Gabbana bag.

“You should grab some clothes,” Caine said. “It might be a while before we get back here.”

“I’m not going,” Diana said.

Caine stopped. He smiled at her. Then his eyes went dead and she felt herself pushed by an invisible hand, shoved toward the closet.

“I said pack,” Caine said.

“No.”

“Don’t make me do something we’ll both regret,” he warned. Then in a more reasonable tone, “I thought you loved me. What’s all this about?”

“You’re a despicable person, Caine.”

Caine laughed. “And now you’re shocked. Right.”

“I hoped—”

“What?” he snapped. “Hoped what, Diana? Hoped you’d keep me happy? Hoped you’d tame me?”

“I thought maybe you were finally growing up a little,” Diana said.

Caine made a negligent, come here gesture with his hand. Diana was propelled toward him. She tripped but did not fall. He held her immobile with powers she could not resist and kissed her.

“I have what I wanted from you, Diana. And it’s great. I mean that. I got you to give it up willingly. I could have forced you whenever I wanted, but I didn’t, did I?”

She did not answer.

“But if you think,” he went on, “that you’ve gotten some kind of control over me, well, guess again. See, I’m Caine. I’m the four bar. I’m the one running things. And I’m happy to have you be a part of that. You can go on teasing me and making fun of me: I’m not sensitive. I like having one person who can stand up to me and tell me what she thinks. A good leader needs that.” He leaned so close she could feel his breath on her ear as he whispered. “Just remember: I’m Caine. And people who fight me regret it. Now pack up. Make sure you bring that little lacy black thing. I like you in that. Bug. Go tell Penny we’re leaving.”

Bug faded into view. He’d seen and heard it all. From behind Caine’s back he gave Diana the finger.

• • •

“We’re going to figure something out, Dekka,” Sam said.

She sat perfectly still in the back of the boat. Sam sat beside her. Toto had been banished to the bow—Sam didn’t want him pointing out every soothing lie.

“I’m not scared,” Dekka said. “I mean, look, I don’t know if any of us are ever getting out of the FAYZ alive.”

Sam didn’t know what to say, so he just nodded.

“I mean, you think about all the kids,” Dekka said. “Bette. The twins. Duck, poor old Duck. Harry. E.Z. Hunter.” After a pause, “Mary.”

“Lots of others,” Sam said.

“Yeah. We should remember all their names, shouldn’t we?”

“I try to. So if this ever does end, and I ever get out, I can talk to all their parents and say, ‘This is how it happened. This is how your kid died.’”

“I know you worry about that.” Dekka put a comforting hand on his. He took her hand and held it in both of his.

“A little bit, yeah. I see, like, a trial, kind of. Old dudes and old ladies all looking harsh and asking me to justify . . . You know: what did you do to save E.Z., Mr. Temple?” He shook his head. “In my imagination they always call me Mr. Temple.”

“What did you do, Mr. Temple, to save Dekka Talent?” she said.

“That’s your last name? I didn’t think you had a last name. I thought you were like Iman or Madonna or Beyoncé. You just needed the one name.”

“Yeah, me and Beyoncé,” Dekka said with a wry laugh.

They sat silent together for a while.

“Sam, we don’t know how well those things see in the dark.”

He nodded. “I’ve been wondering. I have a plan. It’s fairly crazy.”

“Wouldn’t be any fun if it wasn’t crazy.”

“You can swim, right?”

“No, because black folk can’t swim,” Dekka said, sounding like the old Dekka. “Of course I can swim.”

He called to Jack and Toto, asking them to join him. “Can both of you swim?”

They both nodded apprehensively. “But it’s dark,” Jack said.

“The water doesn’t get any deeper at night,” Sam said.

“Who knows what’s in the water?” Jack argued.

“Trout and bass,” Sam said. “They don’t eat people.”

“Yeah, and snakes don’t fly and coyotes don’t talk,” Jack shot back.

“Fair enough,” Sam said. “But I think we’d better take our chances. Here’s what I’m thinking: you all go quietly into the water. I’ll get the boat started, then I’ll lash the wheel down and jump. If it works, Drake and his buggy friends will hear the boat and chase it. We’ll go ashore and run like crazy.”

“They’ll follow us,” Jack objected.

“They’ll try,” Sam admitted. “But they’re insects, not bloodhounds. I doubt they can see tracks at night.”

“He’s not sure,” Toto said.

“No, he’s not,” Sam admitted.

“True,” Toto said. Then, to his imaginary friend, “He’s confusing.”

“Which way do we run?” Dekka asked.

“Drake will expect us to head straight for town. We don’t want to fight him out in the open. So, toward the train.” He nudged Jack. “You want another laptop, right?”

Jack squirmed. “Well, at least some more of the batteries.”

“Okay, then. Into the water. Swim for the marina. If they don’t chase me, I’ll come back before you can reach the dock and we’ll think of some other plan.”

“Could we think of that other plan before this one?” Jack asked.

Caine stood in the bow of Quinn’s boat as it plowed through the very light chop toward Perdido Beach.

Quinn had warned him to sit down, but Caine wasn’t worried about falling in the water: he would not fall. He used his power to support most of his weight so that his feet barely touched the deck.

He was not going to arrive hunched over. He was going to Perdido Beach like George Washington crossing the Delaware: standing tall.

He was floating. Almost flying. Physically, yes, but mentally as well. He was filled with a warm sense of perfect well-being.

They needed him. They had sent for him. They had found they could not survive without him. Him, not Sam. Him.

Penny lay crumpled in blankets in the back of the boat. Diana sat staring at empty space. Bug kept starting to whistle and then stopped himself, only to start all over again.

Quinn was at the tiller, looking at Caine’s back. Caine could feel his eyes boring into him. Quinn’s doubt and worry were written all over his open face.

Diana had been completely silent. Caine figured it was dawning on her that he was still in charge, that she still depended on him. That she still needed him as much as the kids in Perdido Beach needed him.

Well, she would get over it. Diana was a survivor. She would get past her disappointment. And together they would be the first couple of Perdido Beach, like king and queen.

The thought made him smile.

“It’s a pity we don’t have a camera,” Caine said. “I’d love to capture the moment of my return.”

“I’m cold,” Penny moaned.

“You’re just not getting enough exercise,” Caine said, then laughed at his own cruel joke. Penny’s sourness wasn’t going to ruin this for him. Not her sourness or Diana’s sullenness or Quinn’s guilt.

This was Caine’s moment.

Quinn maneuvered the boat expertly alongside the dock. He tied it off and then stood waiting to help them up. Caine refused Quinn’s hand. But looked at him hard. Eye to eye until Quinn had to look away.

“What is it you want, Quinn?” Caine asked.

“What do you mean?”

“What would make you happy, Quinn? What do you want above all else?”

Quinn blinked. Caine thought he might even be blushing. Quinn said, “Me and my crews? We just want to fish.”

Caine put his hand on Quinn’s shoulder. Caine looked him in the eye with that simulation of openness and honesty Caine could still manage when the occasion demanded. “Then, Quinn, here’s my first decree: you are free to fish. Keep doing what you’re doing, and nothing else will ever be asked of you.”

Quinn started to say something but stopped in confusion.

Caine spread his arms wide, palms down, and levitated out of the boat and onto the dock. The grandiosity of it made Caine laugh out loud, laugh at his own sheer arrogance.

Behind him, Diana and Bug climbed wearily to the dock. Caine lifted Penny and set her, helpless, on the wooden planks.

“Things will be different this time,” Caine said. “There was too much contention, too much violence the last time. I tried to be a peaceful leader. But things went badly.”

“I wonder why,” Diana muttered.

“These people,” Caine said grandly, sweeping his arm toward the town, “need more than a leader. They need . . . a king.”

It had come to Caine in a flash of insight. Until just a minute earlier the thought had never entered his mind. But with all Diana’s teasing about him being Napoleon, he’d found a screenplay about Napoleon in the mansion’s library and he’d skimmed it.

Napoleon had taken over after the French people had grown disillusioned with a brutal, ineffectual republic. They had accepted Napoleon’s rise to absolute power because they were just tired, burned out. They had wanted and needed someone with a crown on his head. It was only natural, really. It had been that way for most of human history.

Napoleon had named himself emperor. Like Michael Jackson had named himself the King of Pop and Howard Stern called himself the King of All Media. Weird thing was: that’s how you got to be king, by calling yourself one. And getting others to agree.

King.

Caine saw Quinn’s mouth drop open.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a disbelieving smile form on Diana’s face. She shook her head slowly, ruefully, as though finally understanding something that had puzzled her.

“From now on, Quinn, you’ll refer to me as your king. And you and your people will be left alone.”

Caine felt all eyes on him. Penny savagely ready to enforce his will, however much she hated him in her heart. Bug smirking, ever the useful tool. And Diana amazed, and amazed by her own amazement.

“Okay,” Quinn said doubtfully.

“Okay?” Caine echoed, and raised one eyebrow expectantly. He smiled to show he wasn’t angry. Not yet, anyway.

“Just . . . okay?” Caine prompted.

“Okay . . .” Quinn glanced around, desperate, not knowing the answer. Then it dawned on him. Caine could almost see the wheels turning in his head. “Okay, Your Highness?”

Caine looked down modestly, and to hide the triumphant smirk that would ruin the moment.

“Go now, Quinn. Go back to work.”

And Quinn went.

Caine met Diana’s disbelieving gaze and laughed aloud. “Why so gloomy? Doesn’t every little girl want to grow up to be a queen?”

“Princess,” Diana said.

“So, you got a promotion,” Caine said. “Bug: find Taylor.”

Taylor was the biggest gossip in Perdido Beach. He needed information and he needed it fast. It was the middle of the night and he didn’t know who was where or what they were doing. All Quinn had said was that Sam was out of town, Albert had been murdered, and Edilio was sick and might die.

Albert being dead was a pity. Albert was a born organizer and Caine was sure he could have used him. On the other hand, a dead Edilio would be excellent news. Edilio had been Sam’s right hand from the start.

He didn’t even know when these supposedly giant insects or whatever they were would reach Perdido Beach. It could be at any moment.

He would need to defeat the invasion. That was clearly the most important thing. But obviously kids were exaggerating. Giant insects? They were probably six inches long. Although the idea of them hatching inside your body was enough to make him sick.

Caine stood on the seawall that ran along the beach. Stood on the brink, he thought, the dividing line between past and future. Not just his, but everyone’s.

The town was quiet and dark. Here and there the pale, eerie glow of Sammy suns could be glimpsed through windows. The moon was behind the strange cloud that hung too low over the western part of town.

On the brink, with so many possibilities. He felt as if he might explode from the giddy joy of it. He was back. Back as their savior.

Quinn had inadvertently shown him the way forward. Quinn had wanted exactly what most people want: to be left alone. To not be afraid. To not have to struggle. To not have to ask hard questions or make hard decisions.

We just want to fish.

Caine turned slightly to stare thoughtfully at Diana. He had given her hope, and taken hope away, and now she stood still, almost as if in a trance, counting up her losses, realizing the totality of her defeat.

Resignation. Acceptance.

She could see now that he was in charge. When everyone saw that, and when everyone simply accepted that this was life now, that this was the only possible life, then he would have complete control.

He could feel the fear in Perdido Beach. They were leaderless. They were sick, weak, hungry, lonely. They cowered because of a microscopic flu bug and a very different, much larger bug.

When it was over, when he had won, he would say:
I have saved you. I alone had the power to save you. Sam failed. But I succeeded. And now settle down and do your work and pay no attention to your betters. Shhh: go to sleep, the king will make the hard decisions.

Bug was back surprisingly soon, with Taylor.

“Where did you find her?” Caine asked.

Bug shrugged. “Where she lives. I remember it from the old days when I used to sneak into town.”

“He means back when he used to sneak in and watch you get undressed,” Diana said to Taylor.

“He’s a little kid,” Taylor said with a shrug. She looked Caine up and down, skeptical and appraising. Caine knew she did not fear him—not with her powers. She couldn’t be intimidated. So he would have to reach her some other way.

“Have a seat with me,” Caine said, hopping down from the wall. “How have you been, Taylor?”

“Life’s one big party,” she said.

He laughed appreciatively at her joke. “Things must be pretty bad for Edilio to send for me, huh?”