“I lost people today . . . I . . . I screwed up. I should have figured out Caine might go after the power plant.”
Silence.
“I’m doing the best I can.”
No one said a word.
Sam refused to meet Astrid’s eyes. If he saw pity there, he would fall apart completely.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“I’m sorry.”
He jumped down. The crowd parted. He walked away through shocked silence.
Not that many kids came up to congratulate Zil on exposing Sam Temple as a helpless, useless fraud. Not as many as he had a right to expect.
But Antoine was with him, and Lance, Hank, and Turk. The four of them had become his crew. His boys. These four had been with him last night as he woke up the town of Perdido Beach.
It had been a dizzy, crazy, wild night. Zil had gone from being just a guy to becoming a leader. The way the others looked at him had changed. Lightning quick. One minute they were his equals, now he was clearly in charge.
That was cool. Very cool. Zil was the “Sam” of the normals, now. And the normals were still by far the majority.
So why didn’t more kids crowd around him now? There were a few nods, some pats on the back, but there were also some very suspicious looks. And that wasn’t right. Not when he, Zil Sperry, had stood up face-to-face with Sam Temple.
As if reading his thoughts, Lance said, “Don’t worry, they’ll come around. They’re just shaken up right now.”
“They’re still scared of Sam,” Hank said. “They should be scared of us.”
Hank was a short, skinny, angry kid, with a face like a rat. Hank talked constantly about kicking butt, to the point where Zil could barely stop himself from pointing out that Hank was practically a midget and wasn’t going to kick anyone’s butt.
Lance was a different story. Lance was tall, athletic, good looking, and smart. Zil could hardly believe Lance was being so respectful to him, letting Zil take the lead and make the decisions. Back in the old days Lance had been one of the most popular kids in school—not at all like Hank, who was generally despised.
“Hi.”
Zil looked around and found himself face-to-face with a girl he knew vaguely. Lisa. That was her name. Lisa something.
“I just wanted to tell you that I totally agree with you,” Lisa something gushed.
“Really?” Zil had very little experience talking to girls. He hoped he wouldn’t start blushing. Not that this girl was beautiful or anything, but she was cute. And she was wearing a short skirt and makeup; almost none of the girls in the FAYZ seemed to bother trying to look nice and “girly” anymore.
“The freaks are totally out of control,” Lisa said, nodding her head constantly like a bobble-head doll.
“Yes, they are,” Zil agreed, almost wary, not knowing why this girl was talking to him.
“I’m really glad you’re standing up to them. You’re, like, totally brave.”
“Thanks.” Zil found his own head bobbing up and down now in response to her. Then, not knowing what else to say, he forced an awkward smile and started out of the church.
“Can I—” Lisa began.
“What?”
“I mean, are you guys going to do anything? Because maybe I could help,” Lisa said.
Zil felt a moment of panic. Do something? Like what? They’d already tagged town hall and busted some windows. Unless Hunter showed up, what was there to do?
Then it dawned on Zil. If he did nothing now, he would lose everything. Lance and Hank and Turk and even Antoine would drift off, or just settle into being another bunch of dudes doing nothing much and slowly starving.
It wasn’t over. It couldn’t be over.
“Actually, I could use your help,” Zil said to Lisa. “I have plans.”
“What are you going to do?” Lisa asked eagerly.
“I’m going to put real humans back in charge. Get rid of the chuds. Run things for us, not for them.”
“Yeah!” Turk said.
“The six of us, here? We’re just the start,” Zil said.
“Absolutely,” Hank agreed.
“Zil’s crew,” Turk said.
Zil waved that off modestly. “I think maybe we should call ourselves the Human Crew.”
THIRTY
13 HOURS, 38 MINUTES
CAINE HAD FALLEN asleep, exhausted, on the plant manager’s couch. He woke slowly. Disoriented. Not sure where he was. He opened his eyes and everything around him, the dusty furnishings of the office, seemed to vibrate.
He rubbed his eyes and sat up.
Someone was sitting in the plant manager’s chair. A green man. Green from some inner light, like chemicals were burning inside him putting off a sickly glow.
The man had no face. His shape was rough, like a clay model only half completed. When Caine looked closer he could see millions of tiny crystals, some no larger than a period, some almost as big as a sugar cube. The mass of crystals was constantly in motion, like frenzied ants crawling over each other.
Caine closed his eyes. When he opened them again the apparition was gone.
A hallucination. Caine had gotten used to hallucinations.
He got to his feet, but he was shaky. He felt sick, like he had the flu or something. His face was beaded with sweat. His shirt was sticky on his skin.
He needed to throw up, but there was nothing in his stomach.
Through the glass he could see the control room. Diana, asleep or dozing in her chair, her feet up on the table. She looked strange without her hair. Caine loved Diana’s hair.
Silence.
“I’m doing the best I can.”
No one said a word.
Sam refused to meet Astrid’s eyes. If he saw pity there, he would fall apart completely.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“I’m sorry.”
He jumped down. The crowd parted. He walked away through shocked silence.
Not that many kids came up to congratulate Zil on exposing Sam Temple as a helpless, useless fraud. Not as many as he had a right to expect.
But Antoine was with him, and Lance, Hank, and Turk. The four of them had become his crew. His boys. These four had been with him last night as he woke up the town of Perdido Beach.
It had been a dizzy, crazy, wild night. Zil had gone from being just a guy to becoming a leader. The way the others looked at him had changed. Lightning quick. One minute they were his equals, now he was clearly in charge.
That was cool. Very cool. Zil was the “Sam” of the normals, now. And the normals were still by far the majority.
So why didn’t more kids crowd around him now? There were a few nods, some pats on the back, but there were also some very suspicious looks. And that wasn’t right. Not when he, Zil Sperry, had stood up face-to-face with Sam Temple.
As if reading his thoughts, Lance said, “Don’t worry, they’ll come around. They’re just shaken up right now.”
“They’re still scared of Sam,” Hank said. “They should be scared of us.”
Hank was a short, skinny, angry kid, with a face like a rat. Hank talked constantly about kicking butt, to the point where Zil could barely stop himself from pointing out that Hank was practically a midget and wasn’t going to kick anyone’s butt.
Lance was a different story. Lance was tall, athletic, good looking, and smart. Zil could hardly believe Lance was being so respectful to him, letting Zil take the lead and make the decisions. Back in the old days Lance had been one of the most popular kids in school—not at all like Hank, who was generally despised.
“Hi.”
Zil looked around and found himself face-to-face with a girl he knew vaguely. Lisa. That was her name. Lisa something.
“I just wanted to tell you that I totally agree with you,” Lisa something gushed.
“Really?” Zil had very little experience talking to girls. He hoped he wouldn’t start blushing. Not that this girl was beautiful or anything, but she was cute. And she was wearing a short skirt and makeup; almost none of the girls in the FAYZ seemed to bother trying to look nice and “girly” anymore.
“The freaks are totally out of control,” Lisa said, nodding her head constantly like a bobble-head doll.
“Yes, they are,” Zil agreed, almost wary, not knowing why this girl was talking to him.
“I’m really glad you’re standing up to them. You’re, like, totally brave.”
“Thanks.” Zil found his own head bobbing up and down now in response to her. Then, not knowing what else to say, he forced an awkward smile and started out of the church.
“Can I—” Lisa began.
“What?”
“I mean, are you guys going to do anything? Because maybe I could help,” Lisa said.
Zil felt a moment of panic. Do something? Like what? They’d already tagged town hall and busted some windows. Unless Hunter showed up, what was there to do?
Then it dawned on Zil. If he did nothing now, he would lose everything. Lance and Hank and Turk and even Antoine would drift off, or just settle into being another bunch of dudes doing nothing much and slowly starving.
It wasn’t over. It couldn’t be over.
“Actually, I could use your help,” Zil said to Lisa. “I have plans.”
“What are you going to do?” Lisa asked eagerly.
“I’m going to put real humans back in charge. Get rid of the chuds. Run things for us, not for them.”
“Yeah!” Turk said.
“The six of us, here? We’re just the start,” Zil said.
“Absolutely,” Hank agreed.
“Zil’s crew,” Turk said.
Zil waved that off modestly. “I think maybe we should call ourselves the Human Crew.”
THIRTY
13 HOURS, 38 MINUTES
CAINE HAD FALLEN asleep, exhausted, on the plant manager’s couch. He woke slowly. Disoriented. Not sure where he was. He opened his eyes and everything around him, the dusty furnishings of the office, seemed to vibrate.
He rubbed his eyes and sat up.
Someone was sitting in the plant manager’s chair. A green man. Green from some inner light, like chemicals were burning inside him putting off a sickly glow.
The man had no face. His shape was rough, like a clay model only half completed. When Caine looked closer he could see millions of tiny crystals, some no larger than a period, some almost as big as a sugar cube. The mass of crystals was constantly in motion, like frenzied ants crawling over each other.
Caine closed his eyes. When he opened them again the apparition was gone.
A hallucination. Caine had gotten used to hallucinations.
He got to his feet, but he was shaky. He felt sick, like he had the flu or something. His face was beaded with sweat. His shirt was sticky on his skin.
He needed to throw up, but there was nothing in his stomach.
Through the glass he could see the control room. Diana, asleep or dozing in her chair, her feet up on the table. She looked strange without her hair. Caine loved Diana’s hair.
