Gone - Page 35/137

“We call it the FAYZ,” Howard said loudly.

“The phase?” Caine appeared interested.

“F-A-Y-Z. Fallout Alley Youth Zone.”

Caine considered that for a moment, then laughed. “That’s excellent. Did you come up with that?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s vital to keep a sense of humor when the world seems to have suddenly become a very strange place. What’s your name?”

“Howard. I’m the Captain’s number-one guy. Captain Orc.”

An uneasy ripple moved through the crowd. Caine read it instantly. “I hope you and Captain Orc will join me and anyone else who wants to sit down and talk about our plans for the future. Because we do have a plan for the future.” He emphasized this last sentence with a chopping motion, like he was cutting away the past.

“I want my mom,” a little boy cried out suddenly.

Every voice fell silent. The boy had said what they were all feeling.

Caine hopped down from the car and went to the boy. He knelt down and took the boy’s hands in his own. He asked the boy’s name, and reintroduced himself. “We all want our parents back,” he said gently, but loudly enough to be overheard clearly by those nearest. “We all want that. And I believe that will happen. I believe we will see all our moms and dads, and older brothers and sisters, and even our teachers again. I believe that. Do you believe it, too?”

“Yes.” The little boy sobbed.

Caine wrapped him in a hug and said, “Be strong. Be your mommy’s strong little boy.”

“He’s good,” Astrid said. “He’s beyond good.”

Then Caine stood up. People had formed a circle around him, close but respectful. “We all have to be strong. We all have to get through this. If we work together to choose good leaders and do the right thing, we will make it.”

The entire crowd of kids seemed to stand a little taller. There were determined looks on faces that had been weary and frightened.

Sam was mesmerized by the performance. In just a few minutes’ time, Caine had infused hope into a very frightened, dispirited bunch of kids.

Astrid seemed mesmerized too, though Sam thought he detected the cool glint of skepticism in her eyes.

Sam was skeptical himself. He distrusted rehearsed displays. He distrusted charm. But it was hard not to think that Caine was at least trying to reach out to the Perdido Beach kids. It was hard not to believe in him, at least a little. And if Caine really did have a plan, wouldn’t that be a good thing? No one else seemed to have a clue.

Caine raised his voice again. “If it’s okay with everyone here, I would like to borrow your church. I would like to sit down with your leaders, in the presence of our Lord, and discuss my plan, and any changes you want to make. Are there maybe, oh, a dozen people who could speak for you?”

“Me,” Orc said, shouldering his way forward. He still carried his aluminum baseball bat. And he had acquired a policeman’s helmet, one of the black plastic helmets the Perdido Beach cops used when they patrolled on bicycles.

Caine fixed the thug with a penetrating stare. “You must be Captain Orc.”

“Yeah. That’s me.”

Caine stuck out his hand. “I’m honored to meet you, Captain.”

Orc’s mouth dropped open. He hesitated. Sam thought it was probably the first time in Orc’s turbulent life that anyone had said they were honored to meet him. And probably the first time anyone had offered to shake his hand. Orc was clearly confused. He glanced at Howard.

Howard was looking from Orc to Caine, sizing up the situation. “He’s paying you props, Captain,” Howard said.

Orc grunted, shifted the bat from right hand to left, and stuck out his thick paw. Caine grabbed it with both his hands and solemnly looked Orc in the eye as they shook hands.

“Smooth,” Astrid said under her breath.

Still holding Orc’s hand in his, Caine challenged, “Now, who else speaks for Perdido Beach?”

Bouncing Bette said, “Sam Temple here went into a burning building to rescue a little girl. He can speak for me, anyway.”

There was a murmur of agreement.

“Yeah, Sam is a hero for real,” a voice said.

“He could have died,” another voice seconded.

“Yeah, Sam’s the guy.”

Caine’s smile came and disappeared so quickly, Sam wasn’t sure it had happened. For that millisecond it was a look of triumph. Caine walked straight up to Sam, open and forthright, hand extended.

“There are probably better people than me,” Sam said, backing away.

But Caine grabbed his elbow and maneuvered him into a handshake. “Sam, is it? It sounds like you truly are a hero. Are you related to our school nurse, Connie Temple?”

“She’s my mother.”

“I’m not surprised that she would have a brave son,” Caine said with deep feeling. “She’s a very good woman. I see you’re humble as well as brave, Sam, but I…I’m asking for your help. I need your help.”

With the mention of his mother, everything fell into place. Caine. “C.” What were the odds that “C” was some other kid from Coates?

Sooner or later, C or one of the others will do something serious. Someone will get hurt. Just like S with T.

“Okay,” Sam said. “If that’s what people want.”

A few other names were mentioned, and Sam halfheartedly, but loyally, named Quinn.