“Lana, keep her alive,” Sam said.
Lana jumped down into the boat, which rocked madly back and forth.
Dekka was beyond speech, past even crying out.
Lana laid her hands on Dekka’s contorted face.
Brianna followed her into the boat, landed lightly, and pushed both Quinn and Sam aside. “I got this,” she said.
One by one she snatched the emerging creatures—some of which raced to attack Sam, others of which just ran like panicked cockroaches around the bottom of the boat—turned them on their backs, and blew them clear through the bottom of the boat with shotgun blasts.
Quinn tossed a rope over the dock cleat and pulled the sinking boat in. Sam and Quinn shoved and hoisted Dekka onto the dock where she lay split open like a burst orange.
Lana held Dekka’s head on her lap.
Sam, Quinn, and some strange-looking guy Brianna thought looked vaguely familiar stood watching, a circle of horrified fascination.
The boat sank. The blasted bodies of the insects floated.
Dekka’s mouth was moving but no sound came out. Her eyes were like marbles, rolling, searching without seeing.
“She’s trying to say something,” Quinn said.
“She should shut up and let me keep her alive,” Lana snapped. The Healer shot a malignant look at Brianna. “You owe me a pair of shoes.”
Again Dekka tried to speak.
“It’s you, Breeze,” Sam said. “She wants you.”
Brianna frowned, not sure Sam was right. But she knelt beside Dekka and put her ear close.
Brianna listened, closed her eyes for a moment, then stood up without saying anything.
“What did she say?” Quinn asked.
“Just thanks,” Brianna said. “She just said thanks.”
She turned and took off but not so quickly that she missed the strange new boy saying, “That’s not the truth.”
Chapter Forty-Two
3 MINUTES
ASTRID WATCHED, HELPLESS.
She could no longer see Orc. He might already be dead down there.
Jack seemed unable to free himself from Drake’s choking grasp. And Drake knew it. He looked up at Astrid and winked.
She had reached the decision not to harm Little Pete, to let him live even if it meant others would die.
The right and moral decision.
But in a minute or less Jack would asphyxiate. And Drake would catch her. She had no illusions about what that psychopath intended.
Drake and his army would kill and go on killing. And what could stop them? Who could stop them?
She found she could hardly breathe.
Her whole body seemed to buzz with some strange energy. Was it fear? Was this what panic felt like?
Jack’s face was turning dark. His struggles were less focused. His fingers clawed impotently. His eyes bulged like they might pop out of his head.
Drake was going to kill her. But not quickly.
And he would go on to kill many, many more, for as long as the FAYZ existed.
Enough. It had to end. All of it had to end.
Astrid stepped to Little Pete. She gathered him in her arms. She moved to the window and stood there, hesitating, with his limp, sweating body in her arms.
Drake saw her. The color drained from his face.
His tentacle lessened its grip on Jack’s throat.
“No!” Drake cried. He unwound his python arm and began to run toward her, yelling, “No! No!”
“Sorry,” Astrid whispered. “I’m so very sorry, Petey.”
Drake was at the door to the room. “No!” he cried again as she heaved her brother toward the sea of insects.
“Get him!” Drake cried.
He pushed past Astrid to the window as Little Pete fell.
“Don’t hurt—,” Drake shouted. His words were cut off by a weak but well-aimed punch from Astrid.
Little Pete almost hit the ground. He stopped inches from impact.
His eyes opened wide. He stared into a dozen eerie blue eyes.
“Don’t hurt him!” Drake cried. “The Darkness needs him!”
But it was too late. The bugs surged toward Little Pete. Their tongues snapped. Their mouthparts gnashed.
There was no explosion.
No flash of light.
The bugs simply disappeared.
There. Then gone.
Little Pete sank to the ground. He coughed once, with incredible violence. And then he, too, simply disappeared.
Astrid and Drake stood side by side, both staring down in horror.
Astrid closed her eyes. Was it over? Was it all finally over?
“I’ll kill you,” Drake said, but his voice was faint.
Astrid opened her eyes and saw his face already changing, melting from the hard-edged shark features to a softer, rounder countenance.
Jack came pounding up the stairs.
Lying on his back with one leg gone, Orc groaned in pain.
“Where is he?” Brittney asked. “Where is Nemesis?”
Astrid barely heard her.
She had done it. She had killed him. She had sacrificed Little Pete.
“Let’s get out of here before Drake comes back,” Jack said. He took Astrid’s arm. But she would not go with him. Not yet.
“You killed him,” Brittney said. She spoke more in wonder than in accusation.
Astrid heaved a shuddering sigh. Tears ran down her face. She had no words.
Brittney was becoming angry. “He’ll get you for this, Astrid. His rage will find you. Sooner or later.”
“Drake or the gaiaphage?” Jack asked.
Brittney bared her braces in a feral grin. “We are the arm of the Darkness. He will send us to take you. Both of you.”