Hunger
Page 92

 Michael Grant

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Edilio put his arm around Sam’s shoulders and drew him away from Dekka, who was now sobbing.
Sam gazed up at the massive pile of cement and steel that was the power plant. He scanned the parking lot, looking past the parked cars to the sea beyond. The black water twinkled here and there, faint pinpoints of starlight, a rough-textured reflection of the night sky.
“When’s your birthday, Edilio?”
“Cut it out, man. You know I’m not stepping out,” Edilio said.
“You don’t even consider it?”
Edilio’s silence was answer enough.
“Where’s this all end, Edilio? Or does it never end? How many more of these fights? How many more graves in the plaza? You ever think about it?”
“Sam, I dig those graves,” Edilio said quietly.
“Yeah,” Sam said. “Sorry.” He sighed. “We’re not winning. You know that, right? I don’t mean this fight. I mean the big fight. Survival. We’re not winning that fight. We’re starving. Kids eating their pets. We’re breaking up into little groups that hate each other. It’s all going out of control.”
Edilio glanced at Howard, who was a discreet distance away but listening in. Two of Edilio’s guys were within earshot as well.
“You need to cut this out, Sam,” Edilio said in an urgent whisper. “These people are all looking to you, man. You can’t be talking about how we’re screwed.”
Sam barely heard him. “I need to get back to town.”
“What? Are you messing with me? We’re kind of in the middle of something here.”
“Dekka can keep an eye on Caine. Besides, if he busts out, that’s good, right?” Sam nodded as if he had convinced himself. “I need to see Astrid.”
“You know, maybe that’s not a bad idea,” Edilio said. He left Sam and went to Dekka, drew her aside, and spoke urgently to her. Dekka shot a tear-stained glance at Sam, worried.
“Come on, I’ll drive you back to town,” Edilio said.
Sam followed him to the Jeep. “What did you tell Dekka?”
“I told her with the lights out, you needed to check on what’s happening in town.”
“She buy that?” Sam asked.
Edilio didn’t answer directly. And he didn’t look Sam in the eye. “She’s tough. Dekka will handle things here.”
They drove in silence to Perdido Beach.
The plaza was full of kids milling around. That many kids hadn’t been together in one place since the Thanksgiving feast.
Sam felt a hundred pairs of eyes on him as he pulled up with Edilio.
“This doesn’t look like a fiesta,” Edilio said.
Astrid came out of the crowd, ran to the car, and threw her arms around Sam. She kissed him on the cheek, and then on the lips.
He buried his face in her hair and whispered, “Are you okay?”
“Better now that I know you’re alive,” Astrid said. “We have some very scared, angry kids here, Sam.”
As if she had given a cue, the crowd rushed forward to surround the three of them.
“The lights are out!”
“Where have you been?”
“We’re out of food!”
“I can’t even turn on the TV!”
“I’m scared of the dark!”
“There’s a mutant freak murderer running loose!”
“The water isn’t working!”
Those that weren’t shouting accusations were asking plaintive questions.
“What are we supposed to do?”
“Why didn’t you stop Caine?”
“Where’s the Healer?”
“Are we all going to die?”
Sam pushed Astrid gently, reluctantly away and stood alone to face them. Each question hit home. Each was an arrow aimed at his heart. They were the same accusations he had thrown at himself. The same questions he had asked himself. He knew he should put an end to it. He knew he should call for quiet. He knew that the longer he went without answering, the more scared the kids would get.
But he had no answers.
The assault of anger and fear was deafening. A seething wall of angry faces pressed all around. It left him numb. He knew what he should do, but he couldn’t. Somehow he had convinced himself that kids would understand. That they would cut him some slack. Give him some time.
But they were terrified. They were on the edge of panic.
Astrid was turned to face the crowd, back against the hood, pressed from all sides. She was yelling for quiet, ignored.
Edilio had reached into the backseat of the Jeep to slide his gun forward onto his lap. Like he thought he might have to use it to save Sam or Astrid or both.
Zil appeared, pushing his way through the crowd, five other kids acting like a star’s bodyguard, shoving people out of the way. He was cheered by some, booed by others. But when he raised his hand the crowd quieted, at least a little, and leaned forward in anticipation.
Zil stuck one fist on his hip and pointed at Sam with his other hand. “You’re supposed to be the big boss.”
Sam said nothing. The crowd hushed, ready to watch this one-on-one confrontation.
“You’re the big boss of the freaks,” Zil yelled. “But you can’t do anything. You can shoot laser beams out of your hands, but you can’t get enough food, and you can’t keep the power on, and you won’t do anything about that murderer Hunter, who killed my best friend.” He paused to fill his lungs for a final, furious cry. “You shouldn’t be in charge.”