Gone Series: Plague Part 55

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."

"Let's go, Astrid," Jack said, without taking his eyes off Brittney. Astrid felt the strength of his grip on her arm. She yielded.

She was almost blinded by her tears, her mind a confusion of emotions: self-loathing, disgust, anger.

And worst of all: relief.

He was gone. Little Pete was dead. And now it would end at last. The FAYZ wall would be gone. The madness would be over.

Relief. And the sickening realization that she was glad she had done it.

Jack led her down the stairs. He lifted a terribly injured, mangled Orc effortlessly. Orc was moaning in pain and crying that they should leave him to die.

"No one is dying," Jack said harshly. "We've had enough of that."

Astrid walked obediently behind Jack as he carried Orc down the hill toward town.

And she wondered as she walked, how it could be that the FAYZ was ended and yet Jack was still so strong.

Dahra Baidoo emerged from the so-called hospital for the first time in what felt like days.

Virtue held her up, although he was shaking so badly he could barely walk himself.

Both of them were covered in gore. The hospital was a slaughterhouse. The single bug that had made it inside had simply ma.s.sacred kids too sick to stand, let alone run.

Virtue told himself that most of those kids were too sick to survive anyway. But that knowledge would never wipe the horror from his memory.

He had been wedged into a corner behind a cot, cowering and praying, and begging to be spared. He had thrown things at the bug, but bedpans and bottles were nothing to the monster.

And then, in an instant, the creature was gone.

Its b.l.o.o.d.y mandibles had been sc.r.a.ping the wall, trying to dislodge Virtue. Inches and milliseconds from gruesome death.

And then ... nothing.

Gone.

Virtue had heard nothing but the sound of his own sobbing.

And then the sounds of others crying.

And an insistent, mad howl of despair.

Dahra was screaming as he drew her gently from beneath a body.

"It's gone," he'd said.

She couldn't stop shaking. Couldn't stop howling. And Virtue was suddenly back in that refugee camp in the Congo, remembering things he'd witnessed when he was still too young to understand.

A terrible fury boiled up inside him. An uncontrollable rage against everyone and everything that made the world a h.e.l.l of fear and pain and loss.

He wanted to smash things. He wanted to bellow like a wild animal.

But Dahra had ceased howling, and now just stared up at him, needing someone, someone to finally take care of her.

Virtue took her hand and put his arm around her shoulder. "We're getting you out of here," he said gently.

There were kids crying out in pain. But Virtue knew that Dahra could no longer respond. So he led her out into the cool, fresh air.

The bodies of the bugs were all gone. The bodies of those they had killed were not.

Virtue didn't know where to take Dahra. After all, she was the one kids took other kids to. He didn't know anyone to help her. Maybe no one could help her.

He led Dahra to the ruined church. It was quiet inside, although it, too, had been a scene of battle. He cleared a s.p.a.ce for her in a pew. He sat her down, sat beside her, so weary, and closed his eyes and prayed.

"G.o.d in your heaven, look down and take pity on this girl. She has done enough." He sighed and added a doubtful, "Amen."

Virtue did not stay long. There were still kids needing help.

He ran into his brother heading toward the hospital. Sanjit hugged him tight and said, "They're gone, Choo. They're all gone."

Virtue nodded and patted Sanjit's back rea.s.suringly.

Sanjit held him out and looked at his face. "Are you okay, brother?"

"I've had better days," Virtue said.