“Right,” Sam said. “So unless someone has an objection, that’s the way it is. If I get hurt or I ditch, Edilio’s in charge.”
“Respect to Edilio,” Dekka said, “but he doesn’t even have powers.”
“He has the power to earn trust and to come through when he has to,” Astrid said.
No one objected further.
“Okay, then,” Sam said. “We have our people in position and Edilio tells them when to go. Taylor, I know it’s going to be boring for you, and a little scary, too. Pick out a friend to go with you, trade off on sleep, but make sure one of you is awake the whole time. And keep practicing. Breeze, your role is critical: you’re our communications system once it starts. Dekka? As soon as we hear from Taylor, you and I move out.”
“Cool,” Dekka said.
“We’re going to win this,” Sam said.
They all got up to leave. Astrid stayed behind. Sam tapped Edilio’s shoulder. “Listen, man, if you can find something useful for Quinn to do…”
“I’m on it. He’s not a bad shot. I have him on top of the day care with one of the machine pistols.”
Sam nodded, patted Edilio on the back, and watched him leave.
“Quinn with a machine gun,” Sam said. “I’m asking my friend to shoot people.”
“You’re asking him to defend himself and defend the prees,” Astrid said.
“Yeah, that changes everything,” Sam said sarcastically.
“What do you want me to do?” Astrid asked. “You haven’t given me a job.”
“I want you to find a safe place and hide there till it’s all over. That’s what I want.”
“But—”
“But…as of tomorrow afternoon, I need you up there.” He pointed upward.
“In heaven?” Astrid asked with a grin.
“Follow me.” He led Astrid and her brother to the steeple. The lattice panels were still knocked out, just as Drake had left them. The lights of Perdido Beach looked eerily normal from up here. Many houses still had lights on. The sparse streetlights were lit. The yellow McDonald’s sign was brilliant. A breeze stirred carrying the smell of French fries and pine needles, salt spray and seaweed.
Two sleeping bags had been laid out in the snug enclosure. A pair of binoculars and a kid’s walkie-talkie lay next to a paper grocery bag.
“I packed you some food and batteries for L. P.’s game in that bag. I don’t think the walkie-talkie works very well, but I have the other one. You can see almost everything from up here.”
It was a tight space. Little Pete immediately sat down in a dusty corner. Astrid and Sam stood awkwardly close together, crowded by the bell.
“Did you leave me a gun?”
He shook his head. “No.”
“You’re asking everyone else to do terrible things. You’re just asking me to watch.”
“There’s a difference.”
“Is there? What?”
“Well…I need you for your brains. I need you to observe.”
“That’s lame,” she said.
He nodded. “Yeah. Well. You haven’t been trained to shoot. You’d probably end up shooting yourself in the foot.”
“Ah,” she said, not convinced.
“Listen, I know this is crazy, but maybe you should think about Quinn’s idea, you know, of getting L. P. to zap you to Hawaii. Or whatever. He has the power. In case things don’t work out…”
“I don’t want him to zap me away somewhere,” Astrid said. “I don’t really think it would work, for one. And for two…”
“Yeah?”
“And for two, I don’t want to leave you.”
He laid his palm gently against her cheek, and she closed her eyes and leaned into him. “Astrid, I’m the one who’s going to be leaving. You know that.”
“No. I don’t know that. I’ve prayed for it not to happen. I’ve asked Mary to intercede.”
“Mary Terrafino?”
“No, duh.” Astrid laughed. “You are such a heathen. Mary. The Virgin Mary.”
“Oh. Her.”
“I know you don’t really believe in God much, but I do. I think He knows we’re here. I think He hears our prayers.”
“You think this is all some master plan of God’s? The FAYZ and all?”
“No. I believe in free will. I think we make our own decisions and carry out our own actions. And our actions have consequences. The world is what we make it. But I think sometimes we can ask God to help us and He will. Sometimes I think He looks down and says, ‘Wow, look what those idiots are up to now: I guess I better help them along a little.’”
“I’ll gladly accept the help,” Sam said.
“Just the same, I wish I had a gun.”
Sam shook his head. “I hurt my stepfather. I hurt Drake. I may have killed Drake. I don’t know. And I don’t know what’s going to happen next. But here’s what I do know: When I hurt someone it makes a mark on me. Like a scar or something. It’s like…” He searched for words, and she wrapped her arms tight around him. “It’s like my knee, where Drake shot me? That’s all healed up, thanks to Lana, like it never happened. But me burning Drake? That’s inside me, in my head, and Lana didn’t heal that.”
“If there’s a fight, others will feel that hurt.”
“Respect to Edilio,” Dekka said, “but he doesn’t even have powers.”
“He has the power to earn trust and to come through when he has to,” Astrid said.
No one objected further.
“Okay, then,” Sam said. “We have our people in position and Edilio tells them when to go. Taylor, I know it’s going to be boring for you, and a little scary, too. Pick out a friend to go with you, trade off on sleep, but make sure one of you is awake the whole time. And keep practicing. Breeze, your role is critical: you’re our communications system once it starts. Dekka? As soon as we hear from Taylor, you and I move out.”
“Cool,” Dekka said.
“We’re going to win this,” Sam said.
They all got up to leave. Astrid stayed behind. Sam tapped Edilio’s shoulder. “Listen, man, if you can find something useful for Quinn to do…”
“I’m on it. He’s not a bad shot. I have him on top of the day care with one of the machine pistols.”
Sam nodded, patted Edilio on the back, and watched him leave.
“Quinn with a machine gun,” Sam said. “I’m asking my friend to shoot people.”
“You’re asking him to defend himself and defend the prees,” Astrid said.
“Yeah, that changes everything,” Sam said sarcastically.
“What do you want me to do?” Astrid asked. “You haven’t given me a job.”
“I want you to find a safe place and hide there till it’s all over. That’s what I want.”
“But—”
“But…as of tomorrow afternoon, I need you up there.” He pointed upward.
“In heaven?” Astrid asked with a grin.
“Follow me.” He led Astrid and her brother to the steeple. The lattice panels were still knocked out, just as Drake had left them. The lights of Perdido Beach looked eerily normal from up here. Many houses still had lights on. The sparse streetlights were lit. The yellow McDonald’s sign was brilliant. A breeze stirred carrying the smell of French fries and pine needles, salt spray and seaweed.
Two sleeping bags had been laid out in the snug enclosure. A pair of binoculars and a kid’s walkie-talkie lay next to a paper grocery bag.
“I packed you some food and batteries for L. P.’s game in that bag. I don’t think the walkie-talkie works very well, but I have the other one. You can see almost everything from up here.”
It was a tight space. Little Pete immediately sat down in a dusty corner. Astrid and Sam stood awkwardly close together, crowded by the bell.
“Did you leave me a gun?”
He shook his head. “No.”
“You’re asking everyone else to do terrible things. You’re just asking me to watch.”
“There’s a difference.”
“Is there? What?”
“Well…I need you for your brains. I need you to observe.”
“That’s lame,” she said.
He nodded. “Yeah. Well. You haven’t been trained to shoot. You’d probably end up shooting yourself in the foot.”
“Ah,” she said, not convinced.
“Listen, I know this is crazy, but maybe you should think about Quinn’s idea, you know, of getting L. P. to zap you to Hawaii. Or whatever. He has the power. In case things don’t work out…”
“I don’t want him to zap me away somewhere,” Astrid said. “I don’t really think it would work, for one. And for two…”
“Yeah?”
“And for two, I don’t want to leave you.”
He laid his palm gently against her cheek, and she closed her eyes and leaned into him. “Astrid, I’m the one who’s going to be leaving. You know that.”
“No. I don’t know that. I’ve prayed for it not to happen. I’ve asked Mary to intercede.”
“Mary Terrafino?”
“No, duh.” Astrid laughed. “You are such a heathen. Mary. The Virgin Mary.”
“Oh. Her.”
“I know you don’t really believe in God much, but I do. I think He knows we’re here. I think He hears our prayers.”
“You think this is all some master plan of God’s? The FAYZ and all?”
“No. I believe in free will. I think we make our own decisions and carry out our own actions. And our actions have consequences. The world is what we make it. But I think sometimes we can ask God to help us and He will. Sometimes I think He looks down and says, ‘Wow, look what those idiots are up to now: I guess I better help them along a little.’”
“I’ll gladly accept the help,” Sam said.
“Just the same, I wish I had a gun.”
Sam shook his head. “I hurt my stepfather. I hurt Drake. I may have killed Drake. I don’t know. And I don’t know what’s going to happen next. But here’s what I do know: When I hurt someone it makes a mark on me. Like a scar or something. It’s like…” He searched for words, and she wrapped her arms tight around him. “It’s like my knee, where Drake shot me? That’s all healed up, thanks to Lana, like it never happened. But me burning Drake? That’s inside me, in my head, and Lana didn’t heal that.”
“If there’s a fight, others will feel that hurt.”
