“Like things will be any better on the mainland,” Sanjit muttered.
“What?” Virtue asked him distractedly. He was busy trying to strap Bowie into the back seat of the helicopter. There were only four seats altogether, the pilot and three passengers. But they were adult-size seats so the two in the back would be room enough for the three youngsters.
Sanjit climbed into the pilot’s seat. The leather was creased and well-worn. In the movie the seat had been fabric. Sanjit remembered that very clearly. It was about all he remembered.
He licked his lips, no longer able to put off the rickety fear that he was about to get them all killed.
“You know how to do this?” Virtue asked him.
“No! No, of course I don’t!” Sanjit yelled. Then, for the benefit of the youngsters he twisted half way around and said, “Totally. Of course I know how to fly a helicopter. Duh!”
Virtue was praying. Eyes closed, head bowed, praying.
“Yeah, that’ll help,” Sanjit said.
Virtue opened one eye and said, “I’m doing what I can.”
“Brother, I wasn’t being a smart ass,” Sanjit said. “I mean I am hoping to God or gods or saints or anything else you got.”
Virtue closed his eyes.
“Should we pray?” Peace asked.
“Yeah. Pray. Everyone pray!” Sanjit yelled.
He pushed the ignition.
He didn’t know a particular god he should pray to, he was Hindu but only by birth, he hadn’t exactly read the holy books or whatever. But Sanjit whispered, “Whoever You are, if You’re listening, now would be a good time to help us out.”
The engine roared to life.
“Wow!” Sanjit cried, surprised. He’d half expected, half hoped the engine wouldn’t even start.
It was shockingly loud. It shook the helicopter amazingly.
“Um…I think I pull this,” Sanjit yelled.
“You think?” Virtue mouthed, the sound of his voice swallowed by the engine noise.
Sanjit reached over and put his hand on Virtue’s shoulder. “I love you, man.”
Virtue put a hand over his own heart and nodded.
“Great,” Sanjit said aloud though only he could hear his own voice. “And now that we’ve had that touching scene, it’s time for our heroes to go out in a flaming ball of glory.”
Virtue frowned, trying to hear.
“I said,” Sanjit shouted at the top of his lungs, “I’m invincible! Now let’s fly!”
Dekka saw Zil’s crew split into two groups, to left and right of the road. An ambush.
She hesitated. It would be good right about now to be Brianna. Breeze wasn’t bulletproof, but she was awfully hard to hit when she was going three hundred miles an hour.
If she kept going, they would shoot her down.
Where was Brianna? Still too sick to move, no doubt, otherwise she’d be in the middle of it. Brianna was not one to miss a fight. Dekka simultaneously missed her and hoped she stayed safely at home. If anything ever happened to Brianna, Dekka didn’t know how she would go on living.
But where was Sam, that was the big question? Why was it Dekka’s job to walk this road? She didn’t even know that she had to. Maybe nothing would happen. Maybe Drake, rampaging up from the beach, would take on Zil and the two of them would finish each other off.
Dekka would like to see that. Right about now. Right now before she had to keep walking up the road to Clifftop.
“Yeah, that would be great,” Dekka said.
Zil’s punks were losing patience. They weren’t waiting. They were working their way toward her on both sides of the road. Clubs. Bats. Crowbars.
Shotguns.
She could run. Live. Get away. Find Brianna and say, “Breeze, I know you probably aren’t going to feel the same way, and maybe this will just gross you out and you’ll hate me for saying it, but I love you.”
Her body tingled with fear. She closed her eyes for a second and felt in that temporary darkness what it would feel like, death. Except that you couldn’t really feel death, could you?
She could run away. Be with Brianna.
Except no, that wasn’t ever going to happen. She was going to live out her days loving Brianna from a distance. Probably never even tell her how she really felt.
Out of the corner of her eye Dekka saw Edilio running straight at Drake from behind. He was alone, the crazy boy, going after Drake. Farther away, moving much too slowly, Orc.
Edilio could have decided to hang back, wait for Orc. Maybe wait too long as Drake laid into terrified children. But Edilio had not made that decision.
He wasn’t waiting for Orc.
“And I’m not waiting for Sam,” Dekka decided.
She started walking.
The first gun fired. That creep Turk. It was as loud as the end of the world. Dekka saw the fire spray from the muzzle. Hot lead pellets hit the concrete before her. Some bounced up and embedded themselves in her legs.
Hurt. Hurt more later.
Dekka couldn’t reach Turk or Lance or Zil with her powers. Not from this distance.
But she could make it really hard for them to aim.
Dekka raised her hands high. Gravity failed.
Dekka walked forward behind a wall of dirt and dust and swirling cacti.
Sam was just at the twisted metal gate of the nuclear plant when he heard a rush of air and saw a blur.
The blur stopped vibrating and became Brianna.
She was holding something. Two somethings.
Sam stared at the objects in her hands. Then he stared at her. Then back at the objects in her hands.
He waited until she was done coughing, bent over.
“No,” he said.
“Sam, they need you. And they can’t wait for you to snail walk all the way back.”
“Who needs me?” Sam asked skeptically.
“Astrid told me to get you. No matter what it took.”
Sam could not help but be pleased. “So. Astrid needs me.”
Brianna rolled her eyes. “Yeah, Sam, you’re still necessary. You’re like a god to us mere mortals. We can’t live without you. Later we’re going to build you a temple. Satisfied?”
Sam nodded, not meaning to agree, just meaning that he understood. “Is it Drake?”
“I think Drake is just part of it,” Brianna said. “Astrid was scared. In fact, I think your girlfriend may have had a really bad day.”
Brianna dropped the skateboard in front of Sam. “Don’t worry: I won’t let you fall off.”
“Yeah? Then why did you bring the helmet?”
Brianna tossed it to him. “In case you fall off.”
Edilio had trouble running in the sand. But maybe that wasn’t why he couldn’t seem to catch up with Drake.
Maybe he didn’t want to catch up with Drake. Maybe he was scared to death of Drake. Orc had fought Drake to a draw once. Sam had fought him and come out on the losing end.
Caine had killed him.
And yet, there was Drake. Alive. As Sam had known he was. As Sam had feared. The psychopath lived.
Edilio stumbled and tripped in the sand. His automatic rifle hit muzzle first and fired, BAM BAM BAM into the sand as Edilio accidentally squeezed the trigger.
Edilio stayed on his knees. Get up, he told himself. Get up, this is what you do. Get up.
He got up. He started running again. Heart pounding like it would tear itself loose.
Drake wasn’t far away now, just a hundred feet, maybe, not far. Whipping some poor kid who’d run too slowly.
Edilio had seen the results of that terrible whip. It had broken something in Sam, the pain of that whip.
But Edilio moved closer. The trick would be to get close enough…not too close.
Drake still had not seen him. Edilio raised the rifle into firing position. Fifty feet. He could hit Drake from here, but there were a dozen other kids in range just beyond him. Bullets didn’t always go exactly where you aimed them. He could kill Drake. He might also kill the fleeing children.
He had to stall until the kids got out of range.
He lined Drake up in the sights. Aiming was hard with the weapon on automatic. The kick would be ferocious. You could aim the first shot, but after that it would be like spraying a fire hose.