He had seen so many terrible things and done so many terrible things since the coming of the FAYZ. But nothing so cold-bloodedly awful as lining up the sights on Lance’s head and squeezing the trigger.
It was the right move. Probably. It was the winning move, it seemed, since Astrid and Little Pete had both survived.
It was the ruthless move. The lesser-of-two-evils move. It was what Sam would have done in his place.
But it was poison in Edilio’s heart.
“I can’t save us,” Edilio said. “Neither can you, Brianna. And Sam . . . I don’t know if he can, either. So maybe this is the end. Maybe this is it and we lose.”
Brianna slapped herself in the chest. “I don’t lose!”
“You can’t beat them alone, Breeze.” A coughing fit, the worst one yet. It was several minutes before he could continue. “I’m done for. I don’t know if this will kill me or not but I can’t even stand up.”
“Hey, we can’t just give up,” Brianna said. “Those things are the size of ponies now, some of them. And they’re growing! You can’t give up, Edilio. You’re the one in charge.”
He aimed his eyes at her, but they were swimming. She was an angry, unfocused face.
“Get me a piece of paper and a pen,” Edilio said.
She was back in less than a minute.
His fingers were trembling as a fit of chills racked his body. He had a hard time steadying the pad and holding the pen. But with supreme effort he scribbled something, folded the paper, and handed it to Brianna.
“Quinn,” he said.
She read the message and flushed furiously. She threw the paper at him. It hit him in the face. “Are you nuts? I’m not doing this!”
“I’m in charge,” he whispered. He bent with shaky fingers and retrieved the note. “My call. It’s the only way. Do it, Breeze: do it.”
“No, no. No way.”
Edilio grabbed her arm and squeezed it with the last of his strength. “For once in your life, think. Can you stop them? Can you stop those bugs from reaching town and killing everyone here? Yes or no?”
“I can try.”
“Yes or no?”
She stifled a sudden sob. She shook her head. “No.”
“Okay, then,” Edilio rasped. “Do you want to be responsible for the lives of everyone who will die just so that you can act all tough?”
She had no answer. She glanced around as if seeing the sick and the dead, the wrecked church, and the sad graveyard for the first time. “No,” she said.
“Then go, Breeze. Go.”
Chapter Thirty
3 HOURS, 50 MINUTES
SAM HAD RUN the boat all the way up the lake and all the way back. They had found two small campgrounds in all, but had not explored them carefully. Maybe a dozen big campers, a few ragged tents in various states of collapse. No doubt some camp food, soda, beer, coffee, all the things people brought camping.
And gas in some of those tanks. Lovely, lovely gasoline.
He was already imagining the steps they’d have to take. They would drive the campers to the marina area and form them up in a rough circle or maybe two concentric circles. They would have to dig some serious septic tanks well away from the lake so there wasn’t any seepage into drinking water.
They would need to ration the gas carefully, carefully, saving it for moving produce from the fields and fish from the ocean. They would still need Quinn’s steady supply of blue bats to pacify the zekes. Besides, they would need to be cautious about overfishing the lake.
No more stupid mistakes. This time they would have to get it right.
That was a job for Albert, Sam had to concede. No doubt Albert would get richer still, but he was the only one with the organizational skills for the job.
Yes, it would work. They would build it and organize it and this time they would get it right.
For his part he had to find a way to destroy the flying greenies. But surely with Jack’s strength and Dekka’s powers and maybe Brianna—who could probably run through a cloud of greenies without getting hit—they could seal up that cave and crush or burn whatever survived.
They were heading back toward the marina now, chugging along slowly, taking their time. It was getting late in the day and Sam was trying to decide whether they should try to start one of the vehicles parked at the marina and drive back tonight, or plan a little more carefully and go in the morning.
The last thing anyone needed was three hundred or so kids tearing off in mad search for sweets. Half would end up lost in the desert or the hills and end up being coyote food.
The news needed to be handled the right way. Edilio and the rest of the council would have to plan a little.
To Dekka he said, “I think maybe we should load as much water as we can carry in an SUV and drive back tonight.”
“I guess you’ve noticed there’s no road that goes straight back.”
“According to the map the road that follows the lake curves up around, hits the barrier. Right? But there has to then be a road that goes down through the Stefano Rey and hits the highway, right?”
Dekka shrugged. Her mind was elsewhere.
He couldn’t blame her. But he had convinced himself she was worrying for nothing.
He indulged himself with a moment of fantasy. They would be heroes, showing up in town with water, even if it wasn’t that much water. That would be one very welcome sight, an SUV full of water bottles. Maybe a few jars of Nutella, too, if they drove east to the train before cutting south.
It was the right move. Probably. It was the winning move, it seemed, since Astrid and Little Pete had both survived.
It was the ruthless move. The lesser-of-two-evils move. It was what Sam would have done in his place.
But it was poison in Edilio’s heart.
“I can’t save us,” Edilio said. “Neither can you, Brianna. And Sam . . . I don’t know if he can, either. So maybe this is the end. Maybe this is it and we lose.”
Brianna slapped herself in the chest. “I don’t lose!”
“You can’t beat them alone, Breeze.” A coughing fit, the worst one yet. It was several minutes before he could continue. “I’m done for. I don’t know if this will kill me or not but I can’t even stand up.”
“Hey, we can’t just give up,” Brianna said. “Those things are the size of ponies now, some of them. And they’re growing! You can’t give up, Edilio. You’re the one in charge.”
He aimed his eyes at her, but they were swimming. She was an angry, unfocused face.
“Get me a piece of paper and a pen,” Edilio said.
She was back in less than a minute.
His fingers were trembling as a fit of chills racked his body. He had a hard time steadying the pad and holding the pen. But with supreme effort he scribbled something, folded the paper, and handed it to Brianna.
“Quinn,” he said.
She read the message and flushed furiously. She threw the paper at him. It hit him in the face. “Are you nuts? I’m not doing this!”
“I’m in charge,” he whispered. He bent with shaky fingers and retrieved the note. “My call. It’s the only way. Do it, Breeze: do it.”
“No, no. No way.”
Edilio grabbed her arm and squeezed it with the last of his strength. “For once in your life, think. Can you stop them? Can you stop those bugs from reaching town and killing everyone here? Yes or no?”
“I can try.”
“Yes or no?”
She stifled a sudden sob. She shook her head. “No.”
“Okay, then,” Edilio rasped. “Do you want to be responsible for the lives of everyone who will die just so that you can act all tough?”
She had no answer. She glanced around as if seeing the sick and the dead, the wrecked church, and the sad graveyard for the first time. “No,” she said.
“Then go, Breeze. Go.”
Chapter Thirty
3 HOURS, 50 MINUTES
SAM HAD RUN the boat all the way up the lake and all the way back. They had found two small campgrounds in all, but had not explored them carefully. Maybe a dozen big campers, a few ragged tents in various states of collapse. No doubt some camp food, soda, beer, coffee, all the things people brought camping.
And gas in some of those tanks. Lovely, lovely gasoline.
He was already imagining the steps they’d have to take. They would drive the campers to the marina area and form them up in a rough circle or maybe two concentric circles. They would have to dig some serious septic tanks well away from the lake so there wasn’t any seepage into drinking water.
They would need to ration the gas carefully, carefully, saving it for moving produce from the fields and fish from the ocean. They would still need Quinn’s steady supply of blue bats to pacify the zekes. Besides, they would need to be cautious about overfishing the lake.
No more stupid mistakes. This time they would have to get it right.
That was a job for Albert, Sam had to concede. No doubt Albert would get richer still, but he was the only one with the organizational skills for the job.
Yes, it would work. They would build it and organize it and this time they would get it right.
For his part he had to find a way to destroy the flying greenies. But surely with Jack’s strength and Dekka’s powers and maybe Brianna—who could probably run through a cloud of greenies without getting hit—they could seal up that cave and crush or burn whatever survived.
They were heading back toward the marina now, chugging along slowly, taking their time. It was getting late in the day and Sam was trying to decide whether they should try to start one of the vehicles parked at the marina and drive back tonight, or plan a little more carefully and go in the morning.
The last thing anyone needed was three hundred or so kids tearing off in mad search for sweets. Half would end up lost in the desert or the hills and end up being coyote food.
The news needed to be handled the right way. Edilio and the rest of the council would have to plan a little.
To Dekka he said, “I think maybe we should load as much water as we can carry in an SUV and drive back tonight.”
“I guess you’ve noticed there’s no road that goes straight back.”
“According to the map the road that follows the lake curves up around, hits the barrier. Right? But there has to then be a road that goes down through the Stefano Rey and hits the highway, right?”
Dekka shrugged. Her mind was elsewhere.
He couldn’t blame her. But he had convinced himself she was worrying for nothing.
He indulged himself with a moment of fantasy. They would be heroes, showing up in town with water, even if it wasn’t that much water. That would be one very welcome sight, an SUV full of water bottles. Maybe a few jars of Nutella, too, if they drove east to the train before cutting south.
