Plague

  “Hey, Lana.”

  “Hey, DB,” Lana said. “How’s medical school?”

  It was an old joke between them. They had worked together closely in times of crisis. The flu that had gone around a couple of weeks ago, the various battles and fires and fights and poisonings and accidents.

  Dahra would hold the injured kids’ hands and feed them Tylenol while waiting for Lana to come around. The fire had been the worst. The two of them had been down here together for days, barely seeing the sun.

  Bad, bad days.

  Dahra laughed and tapped the book. “I’m ready to perform heart transplants.”

  “What do we have?” Lana asked. “I heard you had an uncommitted suicide.”

  “No suicides. Broken ribs. And a burn. Not too bad, and I should probably let her suffer since she got it from trying to light a bag of poop and throw it.”

  Lana heard a hacking cough from a very sick-looking girl. “What’s that?”

  Dahra gave her a significant look. “I think our flu is back. Or never went away.” She pulled Lana off to the side, to where the patients couldn’t hear. “I think this may be worse, though. This girl is hallucinating. Her name is Jennifer. She came crawling in here this morning. She keeps talking about some other girl named Jennifer who coughed so hard there were pieces of her lungs coming up. And then she supposedly coughed so hard she broke her own neck.”

  “Fever brings on the crazy sometimes,” Lana said.

  “Yeah. Still, I wish I had someone to go check on her house. See if there’s anything going on.”

  “Where’s Elwood?”

  Dahra sighed. “That’s over.”

  Lana had never liked Elwood much and she kind of wanted to know what had happened—Dahra and Elwood had been going out for a long time. But Dahra didn’t look like she was interested in spilling her guts.

  Lana healed the broken ribs, then checked out the girl with burned fingers. “Don’t do stupid things like this,” Lana snapped at the girl. “I don’t want to be wasting my time on stupidity. Next time I’ll let you suffer.”

  But she healed the burn as well and did a quick touch-and-go with the coughing girl.

  “Can I fill a jug before I head out?” Lana asked.

  Dahra winced. She had an old water cooler in one corner with a clear glass five-gallon jug on top. But there was nowhere near five gallons in there.

  “How about half a gallon?” Dahra said.

  “Deal,” Lana said. “Albert needs to keep you better supplied. Me, too, while we’re at it. He’s supposed to send one of his people up with a gallon a day. It’s been two days. It’s not smart for a hypochondriac like Albert to grind my nerves.”

  Then, with a nod to Dahra, Lana headed off again, back toward her lonely eyrie.

  She took a shortcut that took her up the hill to Clifftop. It was a bare trail through the brush, a place where a hungry coyote might be. But Patrick would warn her long before she walked into a coyote. And in any case Lana carried an automatic pistol she had no compunction about using.

  Suddenly Patrick growled and Lana had the automatic out and aimed with both hands in a split second.

  “Step out where I can see you,” she said.

  There was no coyote. Instead there was Hunter. Lurking. Looking ashamed to be here. He had been banished from town, although he was allowed to come see her anytime. Still he preferred to stay out of sight.

  Lana liked Hunter. First because he often saved her some tasty morsel, a rabbit or a couple of plump frogs. And he brought stomachs and intestines for Patrick to eat.

  Second because even though he was brain damaged he at least had the sense not to waste her time. If he was looking for her there was a reason.

  “T’sup, Hunter?” she asked. She stuck the gun back in her waistband. “Whoa. I see: bad scratches there.”

  “No,” he said. “It’s something else.”

  He pulled on his T-shirt neck.

  Lana didn’t breathe for a few seconds. “Yeah,” she said. “That is something else.”

  Chapter Six

  61 HOURS, 26 MINUTES

  NO ONE KNEW quite how to deal with Hunter. He wasn’t supposed to come into town. So the council had to go to him.

  They met on the highway.

  No one had ever cleaned up the crashed and abandoned cars on the highway. They were all just where they’d been since the coming of the FAYZ.

  The big FedEx truck was still on its side. Kids had long since broken into the back and rifled through the packages. The wrapping, torn paper, plastic packing peanuts, curls of tape, and packing slips had mostly drifted into a section of construction barrier on the side of the road.

  Funny, Lana noticed: it looked almost cleaned up today. As if someone had come along with a leaf blower and scooted all the garbage off the road.

  The town council was now Dekka, Howard, Albert, Ellen, and Edilio. Sam was entitled to attend but he usually didn’t. Astrid had made it clear she wanted no part of it anymore, but Lana had sent Brianna to tell her to be there. She wanted Astrid’s eyes on this.

  So Astrid was there. Sort of. Lana had seen Astrid in a lot of different situations and moods, but this was a new Astrid: withdrawn, preoccupied. Like she was somewhere else entirely. She was biting her lip, twisting her fingers together, then catching herself and wiping her hands on her jeans.

  Lana was sure she saw Astrid start guiltily when she noticed the trash blown against the barrier. But maybe she was just feeling touchy because of the story going around about Sam and Taylor.

  Edilio was in charge. Which was fine with Lana. Almost everyone else had shown some weakness, some bit of crazy. Very much including herself, she acknowledged wryly.

  Edilio seemed like the last sane, decent person left in the FAYZ. The undocumented kid from Honduras was the single most trusted person around. And yet, if the barrier ever came down, Edilio and his family—if they were still alive out there—would be kicked out of the country.

  Of course, Lana thought, if the barrier ever came down, half the kids would be shipped off to juvie and the rest would be sent to mental institutions or rehab. So maybe getting kicked out wasn’t so bad.

  Hunter looked like he was meeting the president. He stood tall and tried to smooth his hair down—a hopeless effort. Lana hid a smile as he picked a tick off his arm and flicked it away.

  “Hi, Hunter,” Edilio said. “First up, man, thanks for all the good work you do, right? You’re helping to keep everyone fed and healthy, so thanks.”

  Hunter searched for something to say, eyes shifting left, right, and finally down. “I am the hunter.”

  “Well, you’re a good hunter,” Edilio said. “Lana says you have a little medical problem.”

  Hunter nodded. “Mouths.”

  “Yeah. Well, do you mind letting us look? We don’t want to embarrass you or anything.”

  “Just take off your shirt,” Albert said a bit abruptly. He considered Hunter an employee. But then Albert considered almost everyone an employee.

  “He can take it off or not, it’s up to him,” Dekka said in her low growl.

  Hunter was confused by the back-and-forth. So Lana said, “Would you mind taking your shirt off, Hunter, so we can see? Might as well take off your jeans, too.”

  Hunter pulled his T-shirt over his head. He dropped his jeans to his ankles.

  There was a collective gasp.

  Lana stepped up beside Hunter. She pointed to the protruding mouthparts on Hunter’s shoulder. It looked exactly like a very large ant’s head, or maybe a wasp’s head, but with oversized, gnashing mouthparts. “This was the first one. I tried to cure it. You’ll notice it didn’t work.”

  She pointed to a smaller silvery, almost metallic, mouth on his calf. “Do us a favor and raise your arms up, Hunter.”

  He did. Albert looked away.

  There was a third mouth gnashing its teeth in Hunter’s armpit.

  Lana watched Astrid watching Hunter. Her ice blue eyes flic
kered.

  “You have a question, Astrid?” Lana asked.

  Astrid pursed her lips like she didn’t, but her curiosity got the better of her. “Hunter, has anything bitten you?”

  “Yes. Fleas bite me. And ticks.”

  “How about a wasp?” Astrid asked.

  “No,” Hunter said.

  “Why a wasp?” Edilio asked Astrid.

  Astrid shrugged. “I’m just trying to get information.” She was lying, Lana thought. That scary smart brain of hers was already onto something. Something she didn’t want to talk about in front of Hunter.

  “Anything else strange happen?” Edilio asked.

  “Just the greenie,” Hunter said.

  “The what?” Edilio asked.

  “They’re no good for hunting. I caught one and cooked it but it shriveled all up and there wasn’t any meat on it.”

  “What’s a greenie?” Albert demanded.

  Hunter frowned, looking for a way to describe it. “It flies. It’s like a snake that flies.”

  Howard said, “Oh, good, I was worried we didn’t have enough weirdness to deal with. Flying snakes. That’s excellent.”

  “They squirt,” Hunter said helpfully. Then his eyes widened. “It squirted me once. Right here.” He pointed to his shoulder. To the slowly gnashing insect mouth.

  “Does anyone have anything sharp?” Astrid asked.

  Three knives flashed out.

  “I was kind of thinking of a pin,” Astrid said. But she took a knife from Howard. “Don’t worry, Hunter,” she said. She poked very gently with the point of the knife just beside the largest mouth. “Did you feel that?”

  Hunter shook his head.

  Astrid poked again, farther from the first spot. And again on Hunter’s upper arm.

  “I guess I don’t feel stuff much.” Hunter seemed baffled.

  “Something’s anesthetizing him,” Astrid said. A spasm, a look of nausea, quickly suppressed, twisted her lips.

  “It doesn’t hurt,” Hunter said.

  “You can get dressed,” Edilio said kindly. “Thanks for showing us.”

  Hunter obediently pulled his clothes back on.

  “Back to work, huh, Hunter?” Edilio said with a wretched, forced smile.

  Hunter nodded. “Yes. I have to get Albert some meat or he gets mad.”

  “No I don’t,” Albert protested weakly.

  Hunter started to walk away. Albert called after him. “Where did you see this flying snake of yours?”

  Hunter, eager to answer Albert’s question, smiled because he knew the answer. “They’re all over on the morning side.”

  “The what?”

  “That’s what I call it. On the other side of the hills. There’s a cave. By the road.”

  “The road to Lake Evian . . . the lake where we get water?” Albert asked in a quiet voice.

  Hunter nodded. “Yes. By the dirt road that goes there.”

  “Thanks,” Edilio said, dismissing Hunter, who looked relieved and walked quickly away without looking back. Edilio turned to Astrid. “Okay, Astrid. What are you thinking?”

  “I think the reason Lana couldn’t heal him is that it’s not a disease.”

  “It sure looks like a disease,” Howard said. “Like a disease I don’t want to get.”

  “It’s a parasite,” Astrid said.

  “Like when a dog gets worms?” Edilio asked.

  “Yes.”

  “But they’re coming out through his skin,” Edilio said.

  Astrid nodded. “He should be in excruciating pain. They’re probably secreting something that deadens the pain.”

  “What’s going to happen to him?” Dekka asked.

  “There’s a type of wasp,” Astrid said. “That’s why I asked him about wasps. It lays its eggs inside a caterpillar. The eggs hatch. The larvae then eat the living caterpillar from the inside out.”

  Lana felt sick herself. She had long since learned to protect herself by affecting a certain indifference to the pains and wounds she healed. But this was awful beyond anything she had ever seen. And she had been powerless to help.

  “Everyone keep this quiet till we figure out what it is,” Edilio said. “No one talk to Taylor, that girl can’t keep quiet for . . .” He trailed off, noticing a stony glare from Astrid. “Council meeting tonight,” he finished lamely.

  Lana called to Patrick, who was sniffing around in the weeds beside the road, and headed toward home.

  Astrid caught up to her.

  “Lana.”

  “Yeah?” Lana had never been Astrid’s biggest fan. She admired Astrid’s smarts and looks. But they were very different people.

  “It’s Little Pete. He . . .”

  “He what?” Lana demanded impatiently.

  “He has a fever. I think he has flu or something.”

  Lana shrugged. “Yeah, one of the Jennifers has it, too. I don’t think it’s any big deal. Take him to see Dahra, I’ll stop by there later.”

  Lana expected Astrid to nod her head and take off. But Astrid glanced down the road to make sure no one was coming toward them. This got Lana’s attention.

  “I need you to come to my house,” Astrid said firmly.

  “Look, I get that you’re more important than, you know, normal people,” Lana snarked. “But I’ll take care of him later. Okay? Bye.”

  Astrid grabbed her shoulder. Lana turned back, angry now. She didn’t like being touched, let alone grabbed.

  “It’s not about me,” Astrid said. “Lana . . . I have to ask you. The gaiaphage . . .”

  Lana’s face darkened.

  “Can it see what you see?” Astrid asked quietly. “Can it know what you know?”

  Lana felt a chill. “What is going on, Astrid?”

  “Maybe nothing. But come with me. Come see Petey. Help me out, and I will owe you one.”

  Lana laughed derisively. She was the Healer: everyone owed her one. But she followed Astrid just the same.

  Chapter Seven

  60 HOURS, 30 MINUTES

  CAINE HAD FOUND a telescope in the house. He carried it out to the cliff on the eastern edge of the island. It was afternoon. The light was pretty good, low, slanting rays that lit up the far shore. Sunlight glinted off windows and car wind-shields in Perdido Beach. Bright red tile roofs and tall palm trees made it seem so normal. As if it really was just another California beach town.

  The nuclear power plant was closer. It, too, looked normal. The hole in the containment tower was on the far side, not visible from here. The hole he’d made.

  He was startled by the sound behind him but didn’t show it. Much.

  “What are you looking at, Napoleon?” Diana asked.

  “Napoleon?”

  “You know, because he was exiled to an island after he almost took over the world,” Diana said. “Although he was short. You’re much taller.”

  Caine wasn’t sure he minded Diana tweaking him. It was better than the way she’d been lately, all depressed and giving up on life. Hating herself.

  He didn’t mind if she hated him. They were never going to be a cute romantic couple like Sam and Astrid. Clean-cut, righteous, all that. The perfect couple. He and Diana were the imperfect couple.

  “How did it work out for Napoleon?” he asked her.

  He caught the slight hesitation as she searched for a glib answer.

  “He lived happily ever after on his island,” Diana said. “He had a beautiful girlfriend who was far better than he deserved.”

  “Stop worrying,” he said harshly. “I’m not planning on leaving the island. How could I, even if I wanted to?”

  “You would find a way,” Diana said bleakly.

  “Yeah. But here I am anyway,” Caine said. He aimed the telescope back at the town. He could see the blackened hulks of burned-out homes just to the west of downtown.

  “Don’t do it,” Diana said.

  Caine didn’t ask what she meant. He knew.

  “Just let it go,” Diana said.
She put her hand on his shoulder. She caressed the side of his neck, his cheek.

  He lowered the telescope and tossed it onto the overgrown sea grass. He turned, took her in his arms, and kissed her.

  It had been a long time since he’d done that.

  She felt different in his arms. Thinner. Smaller. More frail. But his body responded to her as it always had.

  She did not pull away.

  His own response surprised him. It had been a long time for that, too. A long time since he’d felt desire. Starving boys lusted after food, not after girls.

  And now that it was happening, it was overwhelming. Like a roar in his ears. A pounding in his chest. He ached all the way through.

  At the last second, the second when he would have lost the last of his self-control, Diana gently but firmly pushed him away.

  “Not here,” she said.

  “Where?” he gasped. He hated the neediness in his voice. He hated needing anyone or anything that badly. Need was weakness.

  She detached his hands from her body. She took one step back. She was wearing an actual dress. A dress, with her legs showing and her shoulders bare and it was like she was a visitor from another planet.

  He blinked, thinking maybe it was all a dream. She was clean and wearing a yellow summer dress. Her teeth had been brushed. Her hair was brushed, too, still a mess from cutting it all off and having it grow back while too hungry, but a shadow at least of its former dark, tumbling sensuality.

  She bent down demurely and picked up the telescope. She handed it to him.

  “Your choice, Caine. You can have me. Or you can try to take over the world. Not both. Because I’m not going to be part of that anymore. I can’t. So it’s up to you.”

  His jaw dropped. Literally.

  “You witch,” he said.

  Diana laughed.

  “You know I have the power . . . ,” he threatened.

  “Of course. I would be helpless. But that’s not what you want.”

  Caine spotted a boulder, not far away. Impressively big. He raised one hand, palm out, and with a scraping sound the boulder lifted into the air.

  “Sometimes I hate you!” he yelled and with a flick of his wrist sent the boulder flying off the cliff and falling toward the water below.