“What are you grabbing me for? Get off me!”
Astrid released her but leaned in even closer. “That information? That gets Sam killed. It gets Caine killed, too. You understand me?”
Kids were already streaming out of their motor homes and tents, racing to cram onto the boats. Boats moored farther out saw that there was an evacuation under way and fired up engines or dipped oars to come in and pick up their friends.
The evacuation had been practiced many times, thanks to Edilio’s persistence. It was working.
And then, in a blaze of swift-moving light that practically flew over the hills: Gaia.
FOURTEEN
39 HOURS, 40 MINUTES
TWIN BEAMS OF green light, so bright you couldn’t look at them, swept from right to left, from a motor home that burst instantly into flame to a tent near the dock that seemed to simply disappear in the heat.
“Jump!” Astrid yelled, and took her own advice.
Orc saw what was happening, flashed on Dahra, and dived down the steps. Dahra was up, hobbling, and he just had time to wonder how he could turn around with her in his arms in the narrow passageway when the houseboat blew up.
It did not burn; it blew up.
Orc was thrown against a bulkhead, which dissolved before he hit it. Fire was everywhere and, an instant later, water. He sucked in a lungful, gagged, and vomited into the lake.
He windmilled his hands and legs, fending off debris from every direction—shattered plywood, a toilet, blankets and bits of clothing like poltergeists floating and swirling and tangling. The only light was the yellow of the fire that now burned directly above him.
He looked frantically around, searching for Dahra, but nothing. His lungs burning, he kicked his massive legs and only then realized: gravel is much heavier than flesh.
Orc sank toward the lake bottom. Air bubbles rose from the thousands of crevices in his body.
Below him he saw a picnic cooler, bound with chain, and wondered what it was. And whether it mattered. And whether he was truly, finally, going to be comforted by God’s staff.
Dahra never knew what was happening. She heard noises and agitated voices up above. It all sounded important, so she climbed painfully out of the bunk Astrid had let her use. Then she saw Orc coming toward her in a rush.
And then she was torn apart by the explosion.
Diana and Astrid had already hit the water.
When Astrid clawed her way back to air, she saw Diana in the water beside her, facedown, seemingly unconscious. Three quick strokes and Astrid was beside Diana. She twisted her around and tilted her head back to face up toward the sky.
Diana coughed water and opened her dark eyes, reflecting moonlight outshone by sudden green lasers.
Fifty feet away a sailboat at anchor did not explode—there was no fuel on board. It just erupted in a ball of fire that ran from stem to stern and swirled up around the mast. It seemed to burn it to the waterline in seconds.
“Dekka! Jack!” Astrid yelled. “Orc!”
Dekka dropped from the sky, sinking down through a waterspout. She had suspended gravity and risen above the explosion, but the flames had singed her shoes and jeans. There was smoke coming from the soles of her shoes, and she let herself sink down into cooling water before saying, “Give me your hands, both of you!”
“No, find Orc! He can’t possibly swim!”
Another bolt of green light, and another boat and then another burned like torches. The shore was all aflame, tents simply gone, motor homes exploding at the touch of the light. One of the burning motor homes rose into the sky, paused, suspended, then was slammed against a minivan, crushing it, burning it, killing the screaming occupants.
Dekka sucked air and dived under.
A boy named Bix ran screaming, stopped suddenly, and was thrown into the air. The green light found him there, and he burst into flames.
Like skeet shooting. Gaia wasn’t just killing: she was playing.
Edilio’s boyfriend, the Artful Roger, tried to grab some of his pictures before the light reached the boat he called home, but the end was too swift. The killing light was interrupted by a trailer between the boat and Gaia, so only half the boat burned.
Roger recoiled, shouting for Justin, who he had cared for for months. Roger was two feet behind the kill line. Justin was two feet on the other side, and was incinerated as Roger cried out in horror. He tried to yell, but the heat sucked the air from his lungs. He stumbled back with fire spreading toward him, climbed the ladder, fell onto the tilting deck of the sailboat, and rolled into the water, unconscious.
“Wake up,” Caine said, shaking Sam roughly.
“What the—”
“Get up. You want to see this,” Caine said, and trotted away, up out of the dip where they had decided to spend the night after a long day searching from the mine shaft down to the burned-out remains of the hermit’s shack.
They had decided to leave the power plant for last and had been on their way to the Stefano Rey when night rolled over them.
Sam threw off his thin blanket and followed Caine to the high point. He instantly saw what Caine was pointing at. Far in the north there were flames throwing yellow light against the sky.
“The lake!” Sam cried.
“I think we just found Gaia,” Caine said. “It’s probably, what, five miles away? The road’s out of our way, but it might be faster in the long run. Cross-country like this it’ll take us—”
But Sam was already running.
Caine dashed after him. They ran in the dark, keeping the forest to their left, until Sam tripped and realized he was going to kill himself if he didn’t watch where he was going. He formed a ball of light in his left hand and held it at shoulder level. It didn’t cast much light, but it was better than relying on the faint moon.
Astrid released her but leaned in even closer. “That information? That gets Sam killed. It gets Caine killed, too. You understand me?”
Kids were already streaming out of their motor homes and tents, racing to cram onto the boats. Boats moored farther out saw that there was an evacuation under way and fired up engines or dipped oars to come in and pick up their friends.
The evacuation had been practiced many times, thanks to Edilio’s persistence. It was working.
And then, in a blaze of swift-moving light that practically flew over the hills: Gaia.
FOURTEEN
39 HOURS, 40 MINUTES
TWIN BEAMS OF green light, so bright you couldn’t look at them, swept from right to left, from a motor home that burst instantly into flame to a tent near the dock that seemed to simply disappear in the heat.
“Jump!” Astrid yelled, and took her own advice.
Orc saw what was happening, flashed on Dahra, and dived down the steps. Dahra was up, hobbling, and he just had time to wonder how he could turn around with her in his arms in the narrow passageway when the houseboat blew up.
It did not burn; it blew up.
Orc was thrown against a bulkhead, which dissolved before he hit it. Fire was everywhere and, an instant later, water. He sucked in a lungful, gagged, and vomited into the lake.
He windmilled his hands and legs, fending off debris from every direction—shattered plywood, a toilet, blankets and bits of clothing like poltergeists floating and swirling and tangling. The only light was the yellow of the fire that now burned directly above him.
He looked frantically around, searching for Dahra, but nothing. His lungs burning, he kicked his massive legs and only then realized: gravel is much heavier than flesh.
Orc sank toward the lake bottom. Air bubbles rose from the thousands of crevices in his body.
Below him he saw a picnic cooler, bound with chain, and wondered what it was. And whether it mattered. And whether he was truly, finally, going to be comforted by God’s staff.
Dahra never knew what was happening. She heard noises and agitated voices up above. It all sounded important, so she climbed painfully out of the bunk Astrid had let her use. Then she saw Orc coming toward her in a rush.
And then she was torn apart by the explosion.
Diana and Astrid had already hit the water.
When Astrid clawed her way back to air, she saw Diana in the water beside her, facedown, seemingly unconscious. Three quick strokes and Astrid was beside Diana. She twisted her around and tilted her head back to face up toward the sky.
Diana coughed water and opened her dark eyes, reflecting moonlight outshone by sudden green lasers.
Fifty feet away a sailboat at anchor did not explode—there was no fuel on board. It just erupted in a ball of fire that ran from stem to stern and swirled up around the mast. It seemed to burn it to the waterline in seconds.
“Dekka! Jack!” Astrid yelled. “Orc!”
Dekka dropped from the sky, sinking down through a waterspout. She had suspended gravity and risen above the explosion, but the flames had singed her shoes and jeans. There was smoke coming from the soles of her shoes, and she let herself sink down into cooling water before saying, “Give me your hands, both of you!”
“No, find Orc! He can’t possibly swim!”
Another bolt of green light, and another boat and then another burned like torches. The shore was all aflame, tents simply gone, motor homes exploding at the touch of the light. One of the burning motor homes rose into the sky, paused, suspended, then was slammed against a minivan, crushing it, burning it, killing the screaming occupants.
Dekka sucked air and dived under.
A boy named Bix ran screaming, stopped suddenly, and was thrown into the air. The green light found him there, and he burst into flames.
Like skeet shooting. Gaia wasn’t just killing: she was playing.
Edilio’s boyfriend, the Artful Roger, tried to grab some of his pictures before the light reached the boat he called home, but the end was too swift. The killing light was interrupted by a trailer between the boat and Gaia, so only half the boat burned.
Roger recoiled, shouting for Justin, who he had cared for for months. Roger was two feet behind the kill line. Justin was two feet on the other side, and was incinerated as Roger cried out in horror. He tried to yell, but the heat sucked the air from his lungs. He stumbled back with fire spreading toward him, climbed the ladder, fell onto the tilting deck of the sailboat, and rolled into the water, unconscious.
“Wake up,” Caine said, shaking Sam roughly.
“What the—”
“Get up. You want to see this,” Caine said, and trotted away, up out of the dip where they had decided to spend the night after a long day searching from the mine shaft down to the burned-out remains of the hermit’s shack.
They had decided to leave the power plant for last and had been on their way to the Stefano Rey when night rolled over them.
Sam threw off his thin blanket and followed Caine to the high point. He instantly saw what Caine was pointing at. Far in the north there were flames throwing yellow light against the sky.
“The lake!” Sam cried.
“I think we just found Gaia,” Caine said. “It’s probably, what, five miles away? The road’s out of our way, but it might be faster in the long run. Cross-country like this it’ll take us—”
But Sam was already running.
Caine dashed after him. They ran in the dark, keeping the forest to their left, until Sam tripped and realized he was going to kill himself if he didn’t watch where he was going. He formed a ball of light in his left hand and held it at shoulder level. It didn’t cast much light, but it was better than relying on the faint moon.
