“Just what is it you want to do with her?” Diana asked.
Drake grinned. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll cook her and eat her. Meat is meat, right?”
Diana glanced at Caine, hoping to see some sign of revulsion, some acknowledgment that Drake was going too far. But Caine just nodded as if he was considering Drake’s claim. “Lets find out what her range is first, huh? Orsay: How far away can you be and still get someone’s dream?”
Orsay chattered her answer, shaking with fear. “Only like . . . like . . . like from the ranger station and the nearest part of the campground.”
“How much distance is that?”
She tried to shrug, but Drake was squeezing her, like a python, taking advantage of every exhalation to tighten his coils. “Maybe two hundred feet,” Orsay said.
“Mose’s cabin,” Diana said. “It’s twice that far from the campus.”
“I said no,” Drake threatened. “She was in my head.”
“We already know it’s a cesspool in there,” Diana said.
“This is uncool, Caine,” Drake said. “You owe me. You need me. Don’t mess with me on this.”
“Don’t mess with me?” Caine echoed. That was the step too far.
Caine jumped up, knocking his chair over backward. He raised both hands, palms out. “You really want to challenge me, Drake? I can blow you through the wall into the next room before you can unwrap yourself from that girl.”
Drake flinched. Started to answer, but he never had a chance. Caine had gone from calm and contained to crazy in a heartbeat.
“You stupid thug,” Caine raged. “You think you can replace me? You think if I was out of the way you’d be able to go down the hill and take out Sam and the rest? You couldn’t even beat Orc! You nobody!” Caine screamed, spit flying from a mouth moving as fast as it could but still not fast enough for the fury within.
The blood had drained from Drake’s hard face. His eyes burned furiously, his arm twitched, almost out of control. He looked like he might choke on his own bottled rage.
“I’m the brains!” Caine shrieked. “I’m the brains! I’m the brains and the power, the true power, the four bar, the one. I am the one. Me! Why do you think the Darkness kept me for three days? Why do you think . . . Why do you think it’s still in my . . . in my . . .”
There was an abrupt change in Caine’s voice. For a second it was as if he was sobbing, not raging. He caught himself and righted his voice, swallowed hard. He looked unsteady and reached for a chairback to hold himself up.
Then he saw the not-quite-pitying look in Diana’s eyes, and no doubt the shark’s cold gleam of triumph on Drake’s face as well.
Caine roared, an incoherent, lunatic howl. He extended his hands, aiming down and to either side of Drake.
There was an earsplitting sound, stones ripped apart, as the floor exploded upward in a geyser of shattered floor tile and dirt.
The pillar of rock and debris shot up, slammed into the already-scarred and damaged cathedral ceiling and tumbled back down again, a rain of gravel, as Caine’s howl fell silent.
The only sound was the off-key, musical patter of falling debris.
Caine stared, blank. Blank.
It went on for too long. But no one dared speak. Then, as if someone had thrown a switch, Caine’s expression became human once more. He smiled a shaky smile.
“We can use this girl, Drake,” Caine said calmly. Then, to Orsay directly, “We can, can’t we? We can use you? You’ll do whatever I tell you to do? And you will obey only me?”
Orsay tried to find her voice but couldn’t even manage a whisper. She nodded vigorously.
“Good. Because if I ever doubt you, Orsay, I’ll give you to Drake. You don’t want that.”
Caine slumped, used up. Without another word he weaved his way to the door.
Lana patted her dog, Patrick, on his thick ruff. “Ready?”
Patrick made his little whimpering sound, the one that meant, “Come on, let’s get going.”
Lana stood up and checked the Velcro strap that held her iPod in place on her arm. She made sure the bright yellow headphones were in place—her ears were too small for the standard earbuds.
She dialed up her “running” play list. But, of course, she didn’t really run now. Running made hunger unbearable. Now she just walked. And not as far as she had run.
Back in the old days, before the FAYZ, she’d done neither. But that, like so much, had changed. There was nothing like dragging through the desert without water or a clue, and then being made a captive of a swift-moving coyote pack, to make you think you should get in shape.
She liked to begin in silence. She liked to hear the sound of her sneaker treads, almost silent on the carpeted hotel floor. Then satisfyingly loud on the blacktop.
Her route began at the front door of Clifftop. It was an automatic door, and it still worked. It was weird, still weird after all this time, that the door’s sensor should be patiently awaiting the signal to open wide the doors to the outside world.
From Clifftop she would walk down toward Town Beach. Then she would cut through town, but away from the plaza, join the highway, and complete the circle back to Clifftop. Unless she was too weak from hunger. Then she would cut that short.
She knew she should probably not burn unnecessary calories. But she couldn’t bring herself to stop. To stop, to spend a day lying on the bed, was to surrender. Lana didn’t like the idea of surrender. She hadn’t surrendered to pain, or to Pack Leader, or to the Darkness.
Drake grinned. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll cook her and eat her. Meat is meat, right?”
Diana glanced at Caine, hoping to see some sign of revulsion, some acknowledgment that Drake was going too far. But Caine just nodded as if he was considering Drake’s claim. “Lets find out what her range is first, huh? Orsay: How far away can you be and still get someone’s dream?”
Orsay chattered her answer, shaking with fear. “Only like . . . like . . . like from the ranger station and the nearest part of the campground.”
“How much distance is that?”
She tried to shrug, but Drake was squeezing her, like a python, taking advantage of every exhalation to tighten his coils. “Maybe two hundred feet,” Orsay said.
“Mose’s cabin,” Diana said. “It’s twice that far from the campus.”
“I said no,” Drake threatened. “She was in my head.”
“We already know it’s a cesspool in there,” Diana said.
“This is uncool, Caine,” Drake said. “You owe me. You need me. Don’t mess with me on this.”
“Don’t mess with me?” Caine echoed. That was the step too far.
Caine jumped up, knocking his chair over backward. He raised both hands, palms out. “You really want to challenge me, Drake? I can blow you through the wall into the next room before you can unwrap yourself from that girl.”
Drake flinched. Started to answer, but he never had a chance. Caine had gone from calm and contained to crazy in a heartbeat.
“You stupid thug,” Caine raged. “You think you can replace me? You think if I was out of the way you’d be able to go down the hill and take out Sam and the rest? You couldn’t even beat Orc! You nobody!” Caine screamed, spit flying from a mouth moving as fast as it could but still not fast enough for the fury within.
The blood had drained from Drake’s hard face. His eyes burned furiously, his arm twitched, almost out of control. He looked like he might choke on his own bottled rage.
“I’m the brains!” Caine shrieked. “I’m the brains! I’m the brains and the power, the true power, the four bar, the one. I am the one. Me! Why do you think the Darkness kept me for three days? Why do you think . . . Why do you think it’s still in my . . . in my . . .”
There was an abrupt change in Caine’s voice. For a second it was as if he was sobbing, not raging. He caught himself and righted his voice, swallowed hard. He looked unsteady and reached for a chairback to hold himself up.
Then he saw the not-quite-pitying look in Diana’s eyes, and no doubt the shark’s cold gleam of triumph on Drake’s face as well.
Caine roared, an incoherent, lunatic howl. He extended his hands, aiming down and to either side of Drake.
There was an earsplitting sound, stones ripped apart, as the floor exploded upward in a geyser of shattered floor tile and dirt.
The pillar of rock and debris shot up, slammed into the already-scarred and damaged cathedral ceiling and tumbled back down again, a rain of gravel, as Caine’s howl fell silent.
The only sound was the off-key, musical patter of falling debris.
Caine stared, blank. Blank.
It went on for too long. But no one dared speak. Then, as if someone had thrown a switch, Caine’s expression became human once more. He smiled a shaky smile.
“We can use this girl, Drake,” Caine said calmly. Then, to Orsay directly, “We can, can’t we? We can use you? You’ll do whatever I tell you to do? And you will obey only me?”
Orsay tried to find her voice but couldn’t even manage a whisper. She nodded vigorously.
“Good. Because if I ever doubt you, Orsay, I’ll give you to Drake. You don’t want that.”
Caine slumped, used up. Without another word he weaved his way to the door.
Lana patted her dog, Patrick, on his thick ruff. “Ready?”
Patrick made his little whimpering sound, the one that meant, “Come on, let’s get going.”
Lana stood up and checked the Velcro strap that held her iPod in place on her arm. She made sure the bright yellow headphones were in place—her ears were too small for the standard earbuds.
She dialed up her “running” play list. But, of course, she didn’t really run now. Running made hunger unbearable. Now she just walked. And not as far as she had run.
Back in the old days, before the FAYZ, she’d done neither. But that, like so much, had changed. There was nothing like dragging through the desert without water or a clue, and then being made a captive of a swift-moving coyote pack, to make you think you should get in shape.
She liked to begin in silence. She liked to hear the sound of her sneaker treads, almost silent on the carpeted hotel floor. Then satisfyingly loud on the blacktop.
Her route began at the front door of Clifftop. It was an automatic door, and it still worked. It was weird, still weird after all this time, that the door’s sensor should be patiently awaiting the signal to open wide the doors to the outside world.
From Clifftop she would walk down toward Town Beach. Then she would cut through town, but away from the plaza, join the highway, and complete the circle back to Clifftop. Unless she was too weak from hunger. Then she would cut that short.
She knew she should probably not burn unnecessary calories. But she couldn’t bring herself to stop. To stop, to spend a day lying on the bed, was to surrender. Lana didn’t like the idea of surrender. She hadn’t surrendered to pain, or to Pack Leader, or to the Darkness.
