Gone Series: Plague Part 50

Screeeeee.

Still rising. Faster. The air rushed past as their speed increased.

How high? They would either stall or fall or, if somehow Dekka could keep it up, they would rise and follow the curve of the dome. As they reached the top of the arc, their faces would be crushed against the barrier again. Sam wasn't looking forward to that.

Sam rolled onto his stomach and wormed his way to the edge of the container. There wasn't much to see below. No lights. No way to know exactly where they were. He wished he had Albert's map, maybe he could make some sense out of the patterns of shadow and dimly perceived, starlit heights.

Looking up, he could not see the barrier at this height; it was not the smooth, pearly translucence he was used to. It was more as if he was pressed against gla.s.s, seeing stars beyond it. He'd halfway expected to find the stars were something painted on, but of course that was crazy. The barrier maintained the illusion even up here. He felt himself flying, staring out into the near-void of s.p.a.ce.

"How are you doing, Dekka?"

"I can't believe it's working. But Sam ..."

"What?"

"I'm numb, I can't feel it, it doesn't hurt, but I can hear them, Sam. I can hear mouths chewing, Sam."

What did he say to that? "Hang in there, Dekka."

"It's like we're floating through the stars," Dekka said. "I'm pretending we're floating up to heaven."

"Kind of hope we're not," Sam said.

The screeching sound had changed pitch as speed built. And there was a very stiff breeze now, pressing down on him as the container, unbound from gravity, flew and screeched.

"I wish you had not found me," Toto said. "I was happier alone."

"Yeah. Sorry about that," Sam said.

Sam tried to guess how fast they were going by judging the wind. He tried to visualize being in a car with the window down. How hard did that wind blow when the car was going thirty or sixty or eighty miles an hour?

Was it blowing that hard now?

"Oh G.o.d, oh G.o.d, no, no, I see it, I see it!" Dekka cried and the container lurched hard and sank like a dropping elevator.

It stabilized quickly and rose to once again sc.r.a.pe along the dome.

In an unnatural voice Dekka said, "Sorry. I looked. It's eating my ..." She couldn't finish. "I don't think I have long, Sam."

"Glide path," Sam whispered. If they were moving as quickly as he hoped, wouldn't they keep some of that forward momentum even if Dekka dropped them?

Yes. And they'd hit the ground at terminal velocity and that would be that.

It felt as if the speed might actually be dropping now and when Sam stuck his hand up he got a shocking jolt. They were nearing the top of the dome and it was flattening out. Soon it would be full body contact and how long could they stand that?

Not long.

As the slope lessened their speed would drop and they'd be more and more pressed against the barrier.

"It's enough, Dekka," Sam said. "Start lowering us. But not slowly."

"What?"

"Move your gravity field so it's stronger at the back end and weaker at the front."

"That's what I've been doing so that we'd stay tilted away from the barrier."

"Yeah. Just do it more. Weaken it all, but more at the front end, right? It should be like sliding down a slope, right?"

To his amazement Dekka laughed aloud. "If I gotta die, this is the way to go. Wouldn't have missed this craziness for anything."

Suddenly the constant screech stopped.

The container lurched so wildly that Toto lost his grip and came tumbling downhill toward Sam. He tumbled slowly- they were in reduced gravity-and Sam grabbed him.

"The people back at the facility would have liked to meet Dekka," Toto said, with his face inches from Sam's.

"I'm sure they would."

Another wild lurch and suddenly the container was sliding, dropping away forward. It was like a sled running down well-packed snow on a long slope.

"I can't see the ground," Dekka said. "I don't want to move. You have to tell me when we're close."

Sam peered into the dark below, trying to pick out anything that might tell him where they were, where they were heading. But it was hills and scrubland and he'd never seen any of it from miles up in the air.

They were moving fast, sliding down an invisible slope, letting gravity pull them forward as much as downward.

"My-," Dekka cried out.

Like an elevator with the cable cut, the bottom dropped. The container spun sideways. Sam, Toto, and Dekka spilled off.

Sam windmilled through the air, flas.h.i.+ng on sky and ground and sea and sky again, falling and spinning, and he was sure of one thing: they were too high up and the fall would kill them.

The creatures beat on the house like bulls slamming into a wall. The windows and doors had already been bashed in and now the walls themselves were splintering. The din was shocking. The living room wall splintered, showing broken two-by-fours and twisted conduit.

Caine and Brianna cowered in the kitchen. It only had walls on two sides, with one side open to the breakfast nook and a counter separating the family room.

Caine looked around frantically for something to throw. Some furniture, some kitchen equipment, but nothing big enough to do any damage to motivated, armored beasts able to bash through walls.

"This isn't right," Caine said.

"You think?" Brianna yelled.

"They're animals. They shouldn't be this focused. They're intelligent!"

"I don't care if they speak Latin and can do trigonometry," Brianna yelled. "How do we kill them?"

"They should have gotten frustrated and moved off to look for someone else to eat," Caine said.

"Maybe we're extra tasty."

"There's an intelligence behind this. A plan."

"Yeah, the plan is kill the two of us and no one will be left to stop them," Brianna said.

"Exactly," Caine agreed. "Bugs don't think that way."

"Shhh!" Brianna held up a hand. Caine heard it, too: the sound of gunfire. At least three or four guns blazing away.

"Edilio's guys," Caine muttered. He was furious and relieved at the same time. He didn't want Edilio or his cops sharing in the glory of saving the town. On the other hand: so far there wasn't any glory.

"Upstairs!" Caine said. He ran for the steps but it meant pa.s.sing close to the front door. One of the monsters had its mandibles all the way inside and was swinging them left and right, widening the shattered doorway.

Caine jumped clear of the scythes and Brianna, who was already past him and up the stairs, dashed back to grab his hand and pull him up.

"Watch out they have-," Brianna started to say.

Something barbed and painful slapped Caine in midback. He reached over his shoulder and grabbed a sticky wet rope.

"-tongues," Brianna finished.

She drew a knife, slashed the tongue, and yanked Caine away.

Caine tore for the bedroom window. The house was entirely surrounded. At least a dozen of the behemoths plowed the lawn with their pointy legs and drove their mandibles again and again, like battering rams, against the house.

Down the street, a block away, Ellen and two other kids fired at the backs of the creatures. The bugs ignored them.

"Yep, they are definitely focused on us," Brianna said.

"I can't even reach a car from here," Caine said. "I have nothing to hit them with."

And then it came to him: he did have something to throw.

Caine raised his hands. The bugs below spotted him and rose up on their hind four legs to come slamming themselves against the window where he stood.

Caine focused on the closest creature. And suddenly six sharp-tipped insect legs were motoring in midair. He lifted the creature as high as he could, then dropped it. The bug landed hard, but shook itself and was instantly back on the attack without so much as a broken leg.

"Turn them over!" Brianna yelled.

Caine reached for the same aggressive bug, lifted him, and this time gave the creature a spin before dropping him.

It landed on its back. All six legs kicked madly in the air. Exactly like a beetle turned over on its back.

"The was.h.i.+ng machine," Caine said. "Is it upstairs-"

"Right down the hall," Brianna said.

Caine ran, lurching into a wall as the bugs outside hit the house with concerted force. Found the was.h.i.+ng machine and lifted it away from the wall, ripping power cord and hoses in the process, and levitated it down the hall to the bedroom.

He threw it through the window. It landed harmlessly on a bug's back. The one he had turned over had righted itself, so Caine flipped a different bug.

Then, while the creature was kicking madly trying to turn itself upright, Caine raised the was.h.i.+ng machine high in the air and slammed it down on the creature's exposed abdomen. It hit like a cartoon anvil.

Whumpf!

Goo spurted from the bug's sides. The kicking legs slowed.

"Oh yeah: that works," Caine said.

He flipped a second bug over, lifted the battered Maytag and smashed it down. This time the bug did not spray its guts immediately so he hit it again.

A huge crash and a sound of rending, twisting, ripping wood. The entire house jerked. Shuddered. And to Caine's horror the wall before him started to fall away.

The entire house was collapsing.

Brianna blurred and was gone. Caine tried to run but the floor was tilted crazily as it fell beneath his feet. The ceiling came cras.h.i.+ng down and Caine landed on his back as the house collapsed atop him in a wild tornado of destruction.

Something crushed his stomach. Plasterboard pressed down on his face. His hands were pinned. He gasped for air and breathed dust. He could see nothing in his immediate field of vision but wallboard and part of a framed Weezer poster.

But he could feel his legs and arms. Nothing broken. Nothing punctured.

He had the power to lift the debris off himself. But if he did, then the creatures would be on him in a heartbeat.

Whereas if he stayed under the wreckage, he might be safe.

The creatures would finally give up on him and go in search of easier victims. Then, when they were gone, he could emerge and take them by surprise.

Caine took a shaky, dusty breath.

Playing dead meant letting some kids die so that he could live. Caine decided he was probably fine with that.

Chapter Thirty-Nine.

38 MINUTES.