His mom. So pretty. Her face . . .
Dad . . .
The pool . . .
He stopped falling. Something had stopped him at last.
Too late, he thought.
Can’t fall through to China, Duck thought.
Well, Duck thought, I guess I did want to be a hero.
And then Duck stopped thinking anything at all.
FORTY-SIX
CAINE STOOD IN darkness.
Sam’s light was gone.
There was a soft, slurry sound. Like rushing water but without water’s music.
Caine stood in darkness as the sound died slowly away.
And now, silence as well as darkness.
Diana. He would never save her now. He might survive, but for the first time in his life, Caine knew that his life, without Diana, would be unbearable.
She had teased him. Abused him. Lied to him. Manipulated him. Betrayed him. Laughed at him.
But she had stuck by him. Even when he had threatened her.
Could what they had really be described as love? He’d blurted it, that word. But were either of them capable of that particular emotion?
Maybe.
But no longer. Not now. Up above, up on the surface, she was dead or close to it. Her blood seeping into the ground.
“Diana,” he whispered.
“Am I still alive?”
At first Caine thought it might be her voice. Impossible.
“Light,” Caine said. “I need light.”
There was no light. For what seemed like an eternity, no light. The voice did not speak again.
Caine sat in the dark, too beaten to move. His brother curled in a ball. Dead, or wishing he was. And Diana . . .
Quinn fought panic as he descended the irregular shaft Duck had cut. The rope felt thin in his hands. The walls of the vertical shaft scraped his back and sides as he descended. Rocks kept falling on his head.
Quinn knew he was not brave. But there was no one left. Something was wrong with Brianna. She was doubled up on the ground, clutching her stomach and crying.
Quinn didn’t know what was happening down below. But he knew that if Sam and Caine didn’t bring Lana back up out of there, there would be too many deaths for Quinn to even think about.
Had to do this.
Had to.
He reached the bottom of the shaft and felt his legs swing freely. He lost his grip and fell the final few feet.
He landed hard, but without breaking anything.
“Sam?” Quinn whispered, a sound that died within inches of his mouth.
He fumbled for the flashlight in his pocket. He snapped the light on. His eyes had adjusted to the dark. The light seemed blinding. He blinked. He aimed the beam ahead.
There, not a hundred feet away, a human figure in silhouette. Moving.
“Caine?”
Caine turned slowly. His face was stark and white. His eyes rimmed red.
Caine rose slowly, like an arthritic old man.
Quinn rushed to him and shone his light around, sweeping the area. He saw Sam facedown.
And there, standing with her arms at her side, stood Lana.
“Lana,” Quinn said.
“Am I alive?” Lana asked.
“You’re alive, Lana,” Quinn said. “You’re free of it.”
A dark shadow passed over Lana’s face. Her mouth twisted downward. She turned and began to walk away.
Quinn put his arm on her shoulder. “Don’t leave us, Healer. We need you.”
Lana stopped.
“I . . . ,” she began.
“Lana,” Quinn said. “We need you.”
“I killed Edilio,” she said.
“Not yet you didn’t,” Quinn said.
Mary Terrafino woke to the taste and smell of fish.
Instantly she twisted her face away. The smell was disgusting.
She looked around wildly. To her amazement she was tied up. Tied to an easy chair in her day care office.
“What am I doing here?” she demanded, bewildered.
“You’re having dinner,” her little brother said.
“Stop it! I’m not hungry. Stop it!”
John held the spoon in front of her. His cherubic face was dark with anger. “You said you wouldn’t leave me.”
“What are you talking about?” Mary demanded.
“You said you wouldn’t do it. You wouldn’t leave me alone,” John said. “But you tried, didn’t you?”
“I don’t know what you’re babbling about.” She noticed Astrid then, leaning against a filing cabinet. Astrid looked like she’d been dragged through the middle of a dog fight. Little Pete was sitting cross-legged, rocking back and forth. He was chanting, “Good-bye, Nestor. Good-bye, Nestor.”
“Mary, you have an eating disorder,” Astrid said. “The secret is out. So cut the crap.”
“Eat,” John ordered, and shoved a spoonful of food in her mouth. None too gently.
“Swallow,” John ordered.
“Let me—”
“Shut up, Mary,” John snapped.
Diana first. Caine would allow no other choice.
Then Edilio, who was so close to death that Lana thought he must have had his hand on the gate of Heaven.
Dekka. Horribly hurt. But not dead.
Brianna, with her hair falling out in clumps.
Last, Sam.
Quinn had hauled him up on the rope, helped greatly by Caine.
Lana sat in the dirt as the sun came up.
Quinn brought her water. “Are you okay?” he asked her.
She could say the words he wanted to hear, but Lana knew she could not make him believe. “No,” Lana said.
Dad . . .
The pool . . .
He stopped falling. Something had stopped him at last.
Too late, he thought.
Can’t fall through to China, Duck thought.
Well, Duck thought, I guess I did want to be a hero.
And then Duck stopped thinking anything at all.
FORTY-SIX
CAINE STOOD IN darkness.
Sam’s light was gone.
There was a soft, slurry sound. Like rushing water but without water’s music.
Caine stood in darkness as the sound died slowly away.
And now, silence as well as darkness.
Diana. He would never save her now. He might survive, but for the first time in his life, Caine knew that his life, without Diana, would be unbearable.
She had teased him. Abused him. Lied to him. Manipulated him. Betrayed him. Laughed at him.
But she had stuck by him. Even when he had threatened her.
Could what they had really be described as love? He’d blurted it, that word. But were either of them capable of that particular emotion?
Maybe.
But no longer. Not now. Up above, up on the surface, she was dead or close to it. Her blood seeping into the ground.
“Diana,” he whispered.
“Am I still alive?”
At first Caine thought it might be her voice. Impossible.
“Light,” Caine said. “I need light.”
There was no light. For what seemed like an eternity, no light. The voice did not speak again.
Caine sat in the dark, too beaten to move. His brother curled in a ball. Dead, or wishing he was. And Diana . . .
Quinn fought panic as he descended the irregular shaft Duck had cut. The rope felt thin in his hands. The walls of the vertical shaft scraped his back and sides as he descended. Rocks kept falling on his head.
Quinn knew he was not brave. But there was no one left. Something was wrong with Brianna. She was doubled up on the ground, clutching her stomach and crying.
Quinn didn’t know what was happening down below. But he knew that if Sam and Caine didn’t bring Lana back up out of there, there would be too many deaths for Quinn to even think about.
Had to do this.
Had to.
He reached the bottom of the shaft and felt his legs swing freely. He lost his grip and fell the final few feet.
He landed hard, but without breaking anything.
“Sam?” Quinn whispered, a sound that died within inches of his mouth.
He fumbled for the flashlight in his pocket. He snapped the light on. His eyes had adjusted to the dark. The light seemed blinding. He blinked. He aimed the beam ahead.
There, not a hundred feet away, a human figure in silhouette. Moving.
“Caine?”
Caine turned slowly. His face was stark and white. His eyes rimmed red.
Caine rose slowly, like an arthritic old man.
Quinn rushed to him and shone his light around, sweeping the area. He saw Sam facedown.
And there, standing with her arms at her side, stood Lana.
“Lana,” Quinn said.
“Am I alive?” Lana asked.
“You’re alive, Lana,” Quinn said. “You’re free of it.”
A dark shadow passed over Lana’s face. Her mouth twisted downward. She turned and began to walk away.
Quinn put his arm on her shoulder. “Don’t leave us, Healer. We need you.”
Lana stopped.
“I . . . ,” she began.
“Lana,” Quinn said. “We need you.”
“I killed Edilio,” she said.
“Not yet you didn’t,” Quinn said.
Mary Terrafino woke to the taste and smell of fish.
Instantly she twisted her face away. The smell was disgusting.
She looked around wildly. To her amazement she was tied up. Tied to an easy chair in her day care office.
“What am I doing here?” she demanded, bewildered.
“You’re having dinner,” her little brother said.
“Stop it! I’m not hungry. Stop it!”
John held the spoon in front of her. His cherubic face was dark with anger. “You said you wouldn’t leave me.”
“What are you talking about?” Mary demanded.
“You said you wouldn’t do it. You wouldn’t leave me alone,” John said. “But you tried, didn’t you?”
“I don’t know what you’re babbling about.” She noticed Astrid then, leaning against a filing cabinet. Astrid looked like she’d been dragged through the middle of a dog fight. Little Pete was sitting cross-legged, rocking back and forth. He was chanting, “Good-bye, Nestor. Good-bye, Nestor.”
“Mary, you have an eating disorder,” Astrid said. “The secret is out. So cut the crap.”
“Eat,” John ordered, and shoved a spoonful of food in her mouth. None too gently.
“Swallow,” John ordered.
“Let me—”
“Shut up, Mary,” John snapped.
Diana first. Caine would allow no other choice.
Then Edilio, who was so close to death that Lana thought he must have had his hand on the gate of Heaven.
Dekka. Horribly hurt. But not dead.
Brianna, with her hair falling out in clumps.
Last, Sam.
Quinn had hauled him up on the rope, helped greatly by Caine.
Lana sat in the dirt as the sun came up.
Quinn brought her water. “Are you okay?” he asked her.
She could say the words he wanted to hear, but Lana knew she could not make him believe. “No,” Lana said.
