No, she told herself. Not again. I’ll die first. She thought of Alex’s knife, supposedly in his backpack. Not the wrist—that could be too easily fixed by Gaia if she chose to. It would have to be an artery in her throat. A quick, deep, assured, stabbing thrust. And death before the evil creature, her daughter, could stop her.
But then hope, that cruel thing, came to taunt her. Caine would come for her, wouldn’t he? He would know she needed rescue. Because deep down he cared for her, didn’t he?
But when he did come, if he did come, Gaia would kill him, wouldn’t she?
And then I’ll do it, Diana told herself. Then the quick, deep, assured thrust. Not before.
Albert had taken three people to the island with him. Leslie-Ann was his maid, a mousy little thing. She was mostly useless, but she had saved his life once upon a time.
Pug—she had an actual name, but Albert didn’t recall what it was—was a big girl, strong and not very bright, and loyal to Albert, though he wasn’t quite sure why. She was not clever enough to make trouble.
And finally, Alicia. Alicia had been trained by Edilio to handle a gun. She’d been part of his security force until he’d caught her extorting bribes. At which point Albert had hired her, informally, as a spy. She was clever, a good observer, and had done a good job of keeping him aware of everything.
She was also tall, about five inches taller than Albert, which he liked, and she had large breasts, which Albert also liked. But she was not loyal like Leslie-Ann or Pug; she was too unstable for loyalty. She had been one of the first Coates kids to abandon Caine and come over to the Perdido Beach side. Later she had rejoined Caine for a time, and later still had lurked at the edges of Zil’s Human Crew.
She was on the island because Albert had lately begun to develop an interest in girls. When it had seemed that the FAYZ would be plunged into permanent darkness, Albert had thought that under the circumstances . . . well . . . But, no. None of that had happened.
And now he was stuck with her.
At present, she was shining a flashlight down, watching Quinn come up the rope hand over hand, climbing the cliff with the agility and ease of an ape.
“He’s strong,” Alicia said.
“He rows a boat all day long.”
“Huh.” Pause. “You know, you should work out, Albert. We have a gym. You and those stick arms of yours.”
Albert was looking for a suitably cutting retort when Quinn came up over the side of the cliff, stood up, brushed himself off, and said, “Albert.”
“Who sent you, Quinn?” He was not interested in small talk. Alicia had a gun, and so did Pug, who was standing a few dozen feet away, watchful, ready.
“Yeah, good to see you, too, Albert,” Quinn said.
Albert hesitated, nodded, and said, “I guess come inside and we can talk.” He turned on his heel and stalked up to the house, not waiting for Quinn. Alicia fell back so she could walk just behind Quinn.
There was an electric light on inside, something no one had seen for months in Perdido Beach. But just a single bulb: fuel was in very short supply, and Albert’s priority was keeping the water pump running and having enough energy to at least take some of the chill out of his showers.
They went inside and to the living room with vast bowed windows that provided a horizon-to-horizon view. Perdido Beach was a silhouette now, a dark space against the bright lights of out there.
Leslie-Ann brought in a pitcher of iced tea and glasses. Glasses filled with actual ice. Quinn stared at the ice like he was seeing the gates of heaven.
“So?” Albert pressed as Quinn poured himself some tea, added sugar—a second impossible luxury—and took a drink.
“So, Albert, I noticed you didn’t fire a missile at me.”
“No.”
“Which means you want to know what’s going on. So maybe stop acting all high and mighty. I don’t work for you anymore, Albert. I’m only here because Edilio asked me to come.”
“Edilio?” Albert frowned. “Not Caine?”
“Well, you wouldn’t know this, Albert, since you ran off when things looked bad, but with the barrier transparent things have changed.”
“Yes. It’s lighter during the day,” Albert said dryly.
“Lookers—people, adults, people out there, I mean—are all up against the barrier where the highway goes. TV cameras, parents, nuts. It’s a mess because—”
“I can see them,” Albert cut in. “Let me guess: no one’s working, they’re all waving at their family members, and pretty soon everyone will be very, very hungry.”
Quinn didn’t bother to confirm.
“Caine?” Albert asked.
“Caine is off with Sam looking for Gaia. Edilio is running things now, thankfully.”
Albert drank some tea and thought it over. He could work with Edilio. Edilio was much more sensible than Caine. For one thing he wouldn’t go around proclaiming himself king and then let his psycho allies terrorize everyone.
“Edilio wants me to come back and get people working,” Albert guessed.
“Yep.”
“How about you, Quinn?”
“Me?” Quinn looked him right in the eye. “I think you’re a selfish little coward.”
The insult did not particularly bother Albert. Selfishness was a virtue, and if self-preservation was cowardice, so be it. “I’ve got everything I want right here,” Albert said, holding up the glass of ice as proof number one, then nodding at Alicia as proof number two, then sweeping a hand around the elegant room, barely visible in the meager fifteen watts.
But then hope, that cruel thing, came to taunt her. Caine would come for her, wouldn’t he? He would know she needed rescue. Because deep down he cared for her, didn’t he?
But when he did come, if he did come, Gaia would kill him, wouldn’t she?
And then I’ll do it, Diana told herself. Then the quick, deep, assured thrust. Not before.
Albert had taken three people to the island with him. Leslie-Ann was his maid, a mousy little thing. She was mostly useless, but she had saved his life once upon a time.
Pug—she had an actual name, but Albert didn’t recall what it was—was a big girl, strong and not very bright, and loyal to Albert, though he wasn’t quite sure why. She was not clever enough to make trouble.
And finally, Alicia. Alicia had been trained by Edilio to handle a gun. She’d been part of his security force until he’d caught her extorting bribes. At which point Albert had hired her, informally, as a spy. She was clever, a good observer, and had done a good job of keeping him aware of everything.
She was also tall, about five inches taller than Albert, which he liked, and she had large breasts, which Albert also liked. But she was not loyal like Leslie-Ann or Pug; she was too unstable for loyalty. She had been one of the first Coates kids to abandon Caine and come over to the Perdido Beach side. Later she had rejoined Caine for a time, and later still had lurked at the edges of Zil’s Human Crew.
She was on the island because Albert had lately begun to develop an interest in girls. When it had seemed that the FAYZ would be plunged into permanent darkness, Albert had thought that under the circumstances . . . well . . . But, no. None of that had happened.
And now he was stuck with her.
At present, she was shining a flashlight down, watching Quinn come up the rope hand over hand, climbing the cliff with the agility and ease of an ape.
“He’s strong,” Alicia said.
“He rows a boat all day long.”
“Huh.” Pause. “You know, you should work out, Albert. We have a gym. You and those stick arms of yours.”
Albert was looking for a suitably cutting retort when Quinn came up over the side of the cliff, stood up, brushed himself off, and said, “Albert.”
“Who sent you, Quinn?” He was not interested in small talk. Alicia had a gun, and so did Pug, who was standing a few dozen feet away, watchful, ready.
“Yeah, good to see you, too, Albert,” Quinn said.
Albert hesitated, nodded, and said, “I guess come inside and we can talk.” He turned on his heel and stalked up to the house, not waiting for Quinn. Alicia fell back so she could walk just behind Quinn.
There was an electric light on inside, something no one had seen for months in Perdido Beach. But just a single bulb: fuel was in very short supply, and Albert’s priority was keeping the water pump running and having enough energy to at least take some of the chill out of his showers.
They went inside and to the living room with vast bowed windows that provided a horizon-to-horizon view. Perdido Beach was a silhouette now, a dark space against the bright lights of out there.
Leslie-Ann brought in a pitcher of iced tea and glasses. Glasses filled with actual ice. Quinn stared at the ice like he was seeing the gates of heaven.
“So?” Albert pressed as Quinn poured himself some tea, added sugar—a second impossible luxury—and took a drink.
“So, Albert, I noticed you didn’t fire a missile at me.”
“No.”
“Which means you want to know what’s going on. So maybe stop acting all high and mighty. I don’t work for you anymore, Albert. I’m only here because Edilio asked me to come.”
“Edilio?” Albert frowned. “Not Caine?”
“Well, you wouldn’t know this, Albert, since you ran off when things looked bad, but with the barrier transparent things have changed.”
“Yes. It’s lighter during the day,” Albert said dryly.
“Lookers—people, adults, people out there, I mean—are all up against the barrier where the highway goes. TV cameras, parents, nuts. It’s a mess because—”
“I can see them,” Albert cut in. “Let me guess: no one’s working, they’re all waving at their family members, and pretty soon everyone will be very, very hungry.”
Quinn didn’t bother to confirm.
“Caine?” Albert asked.
“Caine is off with Sam looking for Gaia. Edilio is running things now, thankfully.”
Albert drank some tea and thought it over. He could work with Edilio. Edilio was much more sensible than Caine. For one thing he wouldn’t go around proclaiming himself king and then let his psycho allies terrorize everyone.
“Edilio wants me to come back and get people working,” Albert guessed.
“Yep.”
“How about you, Quinn?”
“Me?” Quinn looked him right in the eye. “I think you’re a selfish little coward.”
The insult did not particularly bother Albert. Selfishness was a virtue, and if self-preservation was cowardice, so be it. “I’ve got everything I want right here,” Albert said, holding up the glass of ice as proof number one, then nodding at Alicia as proof number two, then sweeping a hand around the elegant room, barely visible in the meager fifteen watts.
