Plague (7 page)

“Okay, even if he’s evil, maybe we can work out some kind of deal.”

“You don’t even believe that,” Sanjit said.

Virtue slumped back, deflated. “Yeah.”

“We are not going back to the island, my brother. We’ve been voted off. This is our home now.”

Virtue nodded. He looked like a kid who had just gotten the news that he would be shot at dawn.

“Cheer up, Choo,” Sanjit said. “There are a lot of good things about this place.”

“You heard about the zombie, right? The one they’ve got locked in a basement? Half the time it’s this nice Christian girl. And the rest of the time it’s a psychopath with a whip for an arm?”

Sanjit made a thoughtful face. “I do believe I heard something about that. But really, Choo, it’s not like a basement-dwelling Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde zombie is all that unusual.”

Despite himself Virtue very nearly smiled. “Fine. Be that way, Wisdom.”

“Don’t use my slave name.” It was an old joke between them. Sanjit had been born Sanjit, a homeless Hindu street kid in Buddhist Bangkok. When the actors Jennifer Brattle and Todd Chance had adopted him, they’d given him an aspirational name: Wisdom.

It never had fit. Wisdom meant . . . well, wisdom.

“You’re not looking at the bright side, Choo,” Sanjit said. He had in fact just spotted the bright side.

“Bright side? There’s no bright side. What bright side?”

“Girls, Choo,” Sanjit said, smiling hugely. “You’ll understand in a few years.”

Lana had come around the back of the hotel and was throwing a tennis ball to her dog. They were outlined against the faint glow of western horizon, and illuminated by the light of the moon just coming from behind the hills.

“I’m going to refuse to do puberty,” Virtue grumbled. “It makes you stupid.”

Sanjit barely heard him. He was walking toward Lana.

“Hi.”

“What are you doing here?” Lana snapped. “No one comes to Clifftop without me saying so.”

Sanjit said, “You missed a beautiful sunset.”

“It’s an illusion,” Lana said. “It’s not the real sun. None of it’s real. The moon, the stars, all of it.”

“Still beautiful, though.”

“Fake.”

“But beautiful.”

Lana glared at him. And Sanjit had to admit: the girl could glare. The pistol in her waistband definitely added to the tough-girl look. But more it was that hurt-but-defiant expression.

“So asking you to take a moonlit walk with me, that would totally not work?”

“What?” Again that glare. “Go away. Stop being an idiot. I don’t even know you.”

“You’re healing my little brother Bowie.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t make us friends, kid.”

“So no moonlight.”

“Are you retarded?”

“Sunrise? I could get up early.”

“Go away.”

“Sunset tomorrow?”

“Just what is your problem, kid? Do you know who I am? No one messes with me.”

“Do you know my name?”

“Which part of ‘go away’ do you not get? I could shoot you and no one would even say anything.”

“It’s Sanjit. It’s a Hindu name.”

“One word to Orc and he’d play basketball with your head.”

“It means ‘invincible.’”

“That’s great,” Lana said.

“Invincible. I can’t be vinced.”

“That’s not even a word,” Lana said. Then she ground her teeth, obviously annoyed with herself for having been baited.

“Go ahead: try to vince me,” Sanjit said.

Just then Patrick came rushing over. He dropped the ball at Sanjit’s feet, grinned his delirious dog grin, and waited.

“Don’t play with my dog,” Lana said.

Sanjit snatched up the ball and threw it. Patrick went tearing after it.

“You don’t scare me,” Sanjit said. He held up a hand, cutting Lana off before she could answer. “I’m not saying I shouldn’t be scared. I’ve heard some of the stories about you. About what happened. You went up against this gaiaphage thing all by yourself. Which means you are the second bravest girl I ever met. So I probably should be scared. I’m just not.”

He watched her struggle to resist asking. She lost. “Second bravest?”

“I’ll tell you the story when we go for that walk,” Sanjit said. He jerked a thumb toward the helicopter. “I better get back to town. Edilio wants a report from me.”

He turned and walked away.

SAM
FOUND HIS little crew where they were supposed to be.

Dekka was almost smiling. Almost smiling was giddy for Dekka.

Taylor was checking her fingernails, being elaborately bored. Sam wondered if he should say something about the kiss. Something like, “I’m really sorry I groped you.”

Yeah: that would be really helpful.

Better to pretend it all never happened. Unfortunately Taylor was not known for letting things just drop.

Furthermore, she irritated Dekka. Dekka was Sam’s friend and his ally. The three people Sam knew he could always count on were Edilio, Brianna, and Dekka. Strange, because it wasn’t like they hung out together. Sam spent his time alone or with Astrid. He barely saw Edilio lately. He had nothing at all in common with Brianna—she was too young, too crazy, too . . . too Brianna to be someone Sam would hang with.

Quinn had been his best friend back before. But Quinn had a big job, a job he loved. Quinn’s friends were all his fishing crews. They were as tight as a very close family, the fishermen.

The fourth member of the expedition was Jack. Formerly Computer Jack—there were no longer any functioning computers around. Jack was wasting his days reading comic books and pouting.

Jack’s superhuman strength might come in handy, but Jack had never been much use. Although, Sam noted thoughtfully, Jack had stepped up during the big fire. Maybe he was growing up a bit. Maybe getting his head out of a computer was actually a good thing.

“You guys up for this?” Sam asked.

“Do I have to go?” Jack whined.

Sam shrugged. “Albert’s paying you, right? It’s better than playing strong man for him all day, isn’t it?”

Jack’s eyes flashed. Albert had started using Jack’s physical strength—to carry loads to the market, to move furniture— and Jack resented it. In Jack’s mind he was still the tech genius, the supergeek, not the freak strong man.

“Why do we have to do this in the middle of the night?” Taylor asked.

“Because we don’t want the whole town knowing why we’re going and where we’re going.”

“How can I tell anyone if I don’t even know myself?” Taylor stuck out her lower lip.

“Water. We’re going to look for water,” Sam said.

He could almost hear the wheels in Taylor’s head spinning. Then, “OMG, we’re out of water?” She bit her lip, took a couple of dramatic breaths, and wailed, “Do you mean we’re all going to die?”

“That would be a pretty good example of why we’re keeping this secret,” Sam said dryly.

“I just need to go—”

“Uh-uh!” Sam said. “No you don’t, Taylor. You don’t bounce anywhere or talk to anyone without me agreeing. Are we clear?”

“You know, Sam, you’re nice. And so very, very hot,” Taylor said. “But you’re not really much fun.”

“Let’s get out of here while we can,” Dekka said. “I brought a gun, by the way.”

“Are we going to be in danger?” Taylor cried.

“The gun’s in case you get on my nerves, Taylor,” Dekka warned.

“Oh, so funny,” Taylor said.

Sam grinned. For the first time in a while he was actually looking forward to something. A mission. And at least a temporary escape from Perdido Beach.

“Dekka’s right. Let’s get out of here before something happens I have to deal with,” Sam said.

Just at that moment he heard a sound like something large breaking. It was some distance away. A noise like twigs snapping. Probably some drunk idiot.

Sam chose to ignore it. Edilio’s worry, not his.

He headed toward the dark hills above town.

After a while Dekka took Sam’s arm and slowed him down. She let Jack and Taylor move out in front.

“Did Edilio or Astrid tell you?”

“I haven’t talked to Edilio. I steered clear. He’s going to be mightily annoyed with me when he realizes I skipped town and didn’t even tell him.”

Dekka waited.

“Okay,” Sam said with a sigh. “Tell me what?”

“It’s Hunter. He’s got some kind of . . . Well, it’s like these bugs all inside him. Astrid says they’re parasites.”

“Astrid says?” Sam snapped. “So I guess you did see her before you left. And she didn’t tell you?”

“We had other things going on.”

“Oh?”

“No,” Sam said. “Not like that. Unfortunately. Tell me about Hunter.”

Dekka told him.

Sam’s face grew darker as he listened. So much for getting out of town before anything went wrong. This had “wrong” written all over it.

It sounded as if Hunter wasn’t going to be hunting much longer. Which meant the town would be running out of meat as well as water. They could probably survive without Hunter’s kills, but it sure would increase the sense of panic.

This mission had just gotten more important, not less.

“He said the greenies are on the morning side? Off the lake road? That’s what he said?”

Dekka nodded.

Sam called up to the other two who were arguing over something stupid. “Taylor! Jack! Veer right up there. We’re stopping off to see Hunter.”

Hunter woke suddenly. A noise.

It was a noise unlike anything he’d ever heard before. Close! Very close.

Like it was on him. Like it was . . .

Just in one ear.

He twisted his head. It was full night. Black as black in the woods far from the starlight.

He couldn’t see anything.

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.”

“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 grass 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 muffle 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 butt, 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.”

But again they ignored him. Not Jack at first but Dekka, who went because she was brave and wanted to help, even though she guessed what she would find; Taylor because she was curious and wanted to see; Jack because he didn’t want to be left behind alone in total darkness.

Hunter was sitting up. He was in the middle of a neat camp: glowing embers from a dying fire, a small tent, a makeshift shelf of sticks and vines where Hunter had a pan and a pot and a plate. A mountain lion hung from a rope looped over a high branch.

Hunter’s entire body writhed and squirmed.

The side of his head was partly gone. A creature, like some monstrous melding of insect and eel, protruded from Hunter’s shoulder and as they stood there rooted in horror it took a vicious bite of Hunter’s flesh.

Taylor was suddenly gone.

Dekka’s face was grim, her eyes wet.

“I tried . . . ,” Hunter said. He held up his hands, mimicked pressing them against his head. “It didn’t work.”

“I can do it,” Sam said softly.

“I’m scared,” Hunter said.

“I know.”

“It’s ’cause I killed Harry. God has to punish me. I tried to be good but I’m bad.”

“No, Hunter,” Sam said gently. “You paid your dues. You fed the kids. You’re a good guy.”

“I’m a good hunter.”

“The best.”

“I don’t know what’s happening. What’s happening, Sam?”

“It’s just the FAYZ, Hunter,” Sam said.

“Can the angels find me here so I can go to heaven?”

Sam didn’t answer. It was Dekka who spoke. “Do you still remember any prayers, Hunter?”

The insectlike creature was almost completely emerged from Hunter’s shoulder. Legs were becoming visible. It had wings folded against its body. It looked like a gigantic ant, or wasp, but silver and brass and covered with a sheen of slime.

It was emerging like a chicken breaking out of an egg. Being born. And as the creature was born, it fed on Hunter’s numbed body.

Jerky movements beneath Hunter’s shirt testified to more of the larvae emerging.

“Do you remember ‘now I lay me down to sleep’?” Dekka asked.

“Now I lay me down to sleep,” Hunter said. “I pray the Lord my soul to keep.”

Sam raised his hands, palms out.

“If I should die—”

Twin beams of light hit Hunter’s chest and face. His shirt caught fire. Flesh melted. He was dead before he could feel anything.

Sam played the light up and down Hunter’s body. The smell was sickening. Jack wanted to look away, but how could he?

Sudden darkness as Sam terminated the light.

Sam lowered his hands to his side.

They stood there in the darkness. Jack breathed through his mouth, trying not to smell the burned flesh.

Then they heard a sound. Many sounds.

Sam raised his hands and pale light glowed.

Hunter was all but gone.

The things that had been inside him were still there.

His knock at her door was soft. Diana almost didn’t hear it.

She took a shaky breath. He had come. She’d figured he would.

“Who is it?” Diana asked.

“Sam,” Caine said.

Diana opened the door. He was leaning against the frame. His body language and expression were not those of someone who was happy.

“Funny,” Diana said.

Caine pushed past her into the room. “Close the door and lock it,” Caine ordered. “Bug: if you’re in here and I catch you I will kill you. You have till I count to ten to get out.”

Caine and Diana both waited and watched the door. It did not open.

“I don’t think he’s here,” Diana said. “I can usually smell him.”

They stood awkwardly apart. Like strangers. Diana noticed that Caine had bathed and combed his hair. He was usually as well put-together as circumstances would allow. But this was a special effort.

Diana had decided against any special outfit. It wasn’t about lingerie or whatever. She was dressed in jeans and a blouse. Barefoot. She had avoided makeup.

“You want me to be Sam,” Caine said. “I’m not Sam. I’m me.”

“I don’t want you to be Sam,” Diana said.

“You don’t want me to be me,” Caine said.

Diana considered him. Handsome, no question. Cruel. Intelligent.

“There’s more than one you, Caine,” Diana said.

He blinked. “What’s that mean?”

“You’re not Drake.”

Caine waved off the suggestion and his face registered disgust. “Drake’s a sick creep. I just do what I have to do. I don’t get off on it. He’s a psycho. I’m . . .” He searched for the right word. “. . . ambitious.”

Diana laughed. Not a derisive laugh, a genuine laugh of astonishment.

“What? I
am
ambitious,” Caine said.

“That’s one word for it,” Diana said. “Power hungry. Domineering. A bully.”

“I’m not good at taking orders,” Caine said.

Diana grinned. “No. You’re not.”

They both fell silent. Diana looked at him. He looked down at the floor.

“But you did take orders. From the Darkness, Caine.”

Caine flushed angrily. He turned away. He walked quickly back to the door. But he stopped before touching the handle.

“The lights are off in Perdido Beach because you took orders,” Diana said.

“Who was it that buried that thing in its mine shaft?” Caine demanded, his voice ragged.

“You.”

“Yeah,” Caine said. “And saved Sam in the process.”

“Yes. And soon after that we became cannibals.”

“We have food now,” Caine said. “Lots of food.”

He walked back to Diana, reached to touch her, but this time she walked away. She stood at the window. The false moon was setting. It dabbed the distant hilltops with silver.

“It was too much,” Diana said, almost to herself. “Everything else I could kind of accept. The violence. The battles. What we did to Andrew and what you did to Chunk. And all the rest. I mean, it all sort of left a bruise on me, you know?”

Caine did not answer.

“Inside. In my heart. In my soul.” She laughed at herself. “Diana Ladris’s soul. Right.”

“It was a low point,” Caine admitted.

“You think?” Diana snapped, looking over her shoulder at him with a trace of her usual mockery. “Eating human flesh, that was a low point?”

“We had no—”

“Oh, shut up,” Diana said. She turned away from the window. There were tears in her eyes and she hadn’t wanted him to see. The last thing she wanted was to seem weak.

But he did see now. The shock on his face almost made her laugh again.

“All my life I’ve been a tough girl,” Diana said. “I was cool with that. People would say,
Diana’s a bitch. Diana’s a slut. Diana’s mean
. All that I could deal with because I guess it was basically true. Now they’re going to look at me and say,
Diana’s a cannibal?
How do I live with that?” She was shouting suddenly.

“Who are these people you’re worried about? Penny? Bug?”

“What if we get out? People! People!” She hesitated. “And God.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “And my kids. Someday.”

“Kids?” Caine’s look of confusion and consternation finally did force a laugh from Diana.

“Yes. Someday. Could happen. That’s right: the day may come when I have a baby. Maybe even more than one.”

Caine said, “Um . . .” He made a vague gesture with his hands. He made several attempts to say something. None were successful.

“Do you love me?” Diana asked.

Caine’s eyes widened. She could actually see him twitch. Like a startled animal. Like a rabbit who had just heard a fox.

“It’s a yes or no question,” Diana said acidly. “But I’ll accept a nod or a shake of the head or an incoherent grunt.”

“I . . . I don’t know what you mean by that,” Caine said lamely.

“When I jumped off the cliff, you saved me even though it meant letting Sanjit and the others escape.”

“You didn’t give me much choice,” Caine said peevishly. “You had a choice. You wanted to destroy them.”

“Okay.”

“Why did you make that choice?”

Caine swallowed and seemed to find his palms sweaty since he rubbed them on his sides.

Diana walked to the door. She unlocked it and held it open. “Go away,” she said. “Come back when you figure out your answer.”

“But . . .”

“Yeah: not happening. Not tonight.”

Caine escaped into the hallway.

Diana undressed and crawled under the sheets. Then she beat the pillows with her fists until feathers flew.