Plague

Sam swung his beams at the nearest of the onrushing bugs. Light beams hit the huge creature and bounced away to slice a sailboat’s mast neatly in half. The stump was a torch.

Jack hauled Dekka up from the water and she struck even before she could stand. Gravity beneath the nearest creature ceased. The bug went airborne and its momentum carried it just over Sam’s ducked head. It shot through Dekka’s field and landed half in the water, with its rear portion on the dock.

“Push it!”

Jack slammed into the bug’s rear end and it splashed into the water.

Jack spun, ran at the second giant roach. He ripped a plank from the dock and rammed it with superhuman strength into the gnashing mouthparts.

The board splintered. The creature didn’t miss a step.

Jack fell on his back and the monster was on him in a flash.

“Jack!” Dekka cried.

Jack, flat on his back, kicked up with such force that the wood beneath him snapped.

The third creature swarmed over the first. Its mandibles swept Dekka, missed cutting her in half, but knocked her twenty feet away into the water.

Sam saw in a split second of clarity what he would have to do. He didn’t like it.

The bug rushed at Sam.

The mouth blades sliced.

Sam timed his leap, shouted a desperate curse, and dove straight into the bug’s gaping mouth.

“The days of uncertainty are over!”

Caine stood at the top of the steps to town hall. Below him the sick lay coughing and shivering. Edilio, helpless, as weak as a newborn kitten, shivering so hard he looked like he was having a seizure.

Beyond the sick were dozens of kids, many wet from having come through the rain in the west. Many still wiping the sleep from their eyes. Some of the youngest were carrying their blankies.

Diana stood apart, blank, downcast. Penny had been given a chair. Lana leaned against a tree in the plaza, her hand resting on her pistol, with Sanjit nervous beside her.

Caine saw it all. Every upturned, moonlit face. He saw the fear and the anticipation. He reveled in it. Gloried in it.

“First, I say this,” Caine said. “Taylor, who has joined me, reports that the creatures are almost here. They are nearing the highway and will reach town in minutes. When they do they will hunt down, kill, and eat . . . every living person.”

“We can fight!” someone yelled. “We beat the coyotes. And we beat you, too, Caine!”

“How will you fight without Sam?” Caine demanded. “Is he here? No! Sam can’t stop these creatures. He tried, and he failed, and now he has run away!”

He waited for someone to speak up in defense of Sam. But not a word.

Gutless, faithless weaklings, Caine thought. He was almost sorry for Sam. How many times had Sam put himself in harm’s way for these ingrates?

“He saved himself,” Caine went on, “for a while, at least, by running away with Astrid and Dekka. He saved his friends, but abandoned poor, sick Edilio there. And all of you.”

Stony silence.

“That’s why Quinn—Quinn, who works night and day to feed you all—came to get me, to beg me to help.”

“What are you going to do?” someone shouted.

“What am I going to do?” Caine asked, relishing the moment. “I’m not going to run away, that’s the first thing.” He stabbed a finger in the air and shouted, “When the ultimate danger came, Sam ran. And I came back. I was safe and warm and well-fed on my island. I had my beautiful queen, Diana. I had my friends, Penny and Bug. It was a very good life.”

He moved to Diana and gave her a little kiss. She let him, no more.

“A very good life. But when I heard what was happening here, what terrible dangers threatened to destroy you, I could not sit there eating delicious food and watching movies while swathed in clean sheets.”

He watched those words take effect. Food? Movies? Clean anything? They were magical concepts to these desperate, starved, and, until recently, parched kids.

And the subtle implication that he had been sleeping with Diana worked in a way, too, making older boys jealous, and some girls as well.

Caine smiled inwardly. It was working. He had them. The sheep.

“I will save you,” he said humbly, eyes down. “But not just from this terrible threat. No. Isn’t it time we all had a better life? Haven’t we suffered enough?”

A murmur of agreement.

“You’ve suffered from hunger, from thirst, from violence. Well . . .” He waited, waited for the moment to build. He was deliberately stretching time, knowing they were picturing the insect horde advancing on the town. At last he said, “Well, that’s enough suffering.”

“What about Drake?” someone shouted.

“He’s your friend,” another voice accused.

“No,” Caine snapped. “I was the one who destroyed him. Or had. Until Sam and his followers allowed Drake to return.”

He paused, watching the reaction, hearing the murmurs of agreement. He sent Diana a secret droll look. Nothing worked better than a really big lie.

“Listen to me. You need a true leader. But this thing where they force you to elect someone, like it’s some popularity contest, like we’re picking a prom queen or whatever, that has to stop. Edilio is a good kid. But he’s just a kid, just Sam’s loyal dog. No offense.” He raised a hand indicating that he may have chosen his words carelessly. But kids were already nodding. Yes, Edilio was just like Sam’s dog. Brave, yes, and decent, yes. But he hadn’t saved them.