Plague

by Michael Grant

  “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 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 Hunte
r’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 yo
u 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.

  Chapter Eleven

  50 HOURS, 21 MINUTES

  “EDILIO. WAKE UP!”

  Edilio blinked. Rubbed his eyes. Saw Brianna standing there next to his bed.

  “What?” he mumbled.

  “Albert told me to get you,” Brianna said.

  Brianna always looked determined, pugnacious, and tough. Just sitting around, she looked all of those things. But now she was armed for battle.

  She had a small runner’s backpack converted to a sort of holster. She’d cut a hole in the bottom so the barrel of a sawed-off shotgun could stick through. The stock was just where she could reach over her shoulder and grab it.

  She had a long knife, a bowie knife, in a scabbard hanging from a camouflage belt. The scabbard was tied to her leg so it wouldn’t flap when she ran. A dozen red plastic shotgun shells rode snugly in slots on the belt.

  A summons in the middle of the night was bad. A summons in the middle of the night from a heavily armed Brianna was worse.

  Much worse.

  “What happened?”

  “Drake,” Brianna said. Then she grinned. Because that was Brianna.

  Edilio sat up. “Okay. You got Sam?”

  “Can’t find Sam,” Brianna said.

  Edilio felt an overpowering desire to go back to sleep. Drake on the loose? And no Sam? “Where’s Albert?”

  “He said he’d meet you at town hall,” Brianna said. “He’s rounding up the others. The council.” She said that last word with a sneer.

  Edilio stabbed a finger at her. “You do not go after Drake on your own.”

  “Yeah? Who else you got?” Brianna said.

  Edilio didn’t have a good answer to that. “Get Dekka. And get Astrid. I don’t care if you have to drag her by her hair, you get Astrid to town hall.”

  Brianna was way too happy at that prospect. She spun, blurred, and was gone.

  Edilio dressed quickly, grabbed his weapons, and ran the few blocks to town hall, hoping he could make it that far without running into Drake. He would fight if he had to, but it was hard to win a fight against someone who couldn’t be killed.