“Jack! Pump! Dekka, get Toto.”
Sam dropped back into his boat and began snatching up and tossing out bits of flaming debris.
“Be dead, be dead,” Sam muttered under his breath.
A sudden sound and Sam felt a burning pain. A red lash mark appeared on his arm.
Drake was holding the dock with his real arm, whip hand drawn back to strike again.
Sam fired. Missed. Bought two seconds as Drake sank beneath the disturbed water.
He shot a look up the shore. The racing creatures pelted through the parking lot, swarmed over and around the cars, would be on them in seconds. Now or never.
“Enough! Back in the boat!”
No one needed to be told twice. Toto and Jack were first in. Dekka stumbled as she ran, slapped her belly, and for a moment Sam thought something had hit her.
Drake was up and his whip hand found Jack. Jack howled and grabbed at the tentacle but missed.
Sam gunned the engine. But he had forgotten the rope. The boat roared, shot forward, and snapped the cleat off the dock. The resistance was enough to yank the boat around.
It smashed into another parked boat and sent everyone tumbling.
By the time Sam cleared his head, Drake had his hand on the gunwale and his whip hand was flailing madly into the boat, striking Jack again and Toto.
Sam threw the boat into reverse, pushed the throttle, twisted the wheel, and ground Drake between boat and dock.
Then he changed gears and roared off, leaving Drake cursing in the water as the bugs raced down the dock, their mandibles slashing at the air.
Sam drove to the middle of the lake and killed the engine. The gas gauge showed a hair over a quarter tank. Enough for now. But at the cost of Toto screaming in pain.
“It’s bad,” Dekka reported. “But he’ll live.”
She lifted Toto’s shirt to show Sam a nasty gash. “Jack, see if there’s a first aid kit aboard.”
Sam sagged, very tired now. “You okay?” he asked Dekka.
She didn’t answer.
He looked more closely at her. “Dekka?”
She looked sick. She bit her lip. “I am sorry to add to your problems, boss,” she said. Then she raised her own shirt and Sam saw the tiny mouthparts poking through her flesh.
The light died and night fell as the boat rocked on the gentle waves.
Chapter Thirty-Three
3 HOURS, 47 MINUTES
DIANA ROLLED OUT of the bed, accidentally pulling the covers off Caine as she did.
“Hey!” he protested.
“It’s nothing I haven’t seen. Repeatedly.”
Caine grinned and laced his fingers behind his head. “I could get used to this life. I think I’ll have another can of peaches.”
Diana took a quick shower and stepped out, dripping wet, to find him waiting for her, holding a towel.
“Seriously: no,” she said. “We’re done.”
“Well, until we get something to eat,” he said.
She dried off and combed her hair while he watched. The lack of privacy was a little irritating, but she told herself it was a small price to pay for peace. In any universe this would be a lovely room, in a lovely house, on a lovely island. But in the FAYZ every part of it was exquisite, a miracle of beauty and comfort. She remembered Coates all too well. Especially the last months there as the food ran out and the fear and depression and self-hatred set in.
This was a beautiful place. And Caine was a beautiful boy—a young man, she supposed—at least on the outside.
If comfort and luxury and Diana herself could keep him pacified, maybe life would go on this way: peaceful.
Even caring for Penny and dealing with Bug were small problems compared to what she had survived. Panda: she shuddered at the memory and felt sick.
“What’s the matter?” Caine asked.
“Nothing.” She forced a smile. “I guess I’m hungry.” Then, seeing his expression, amended the statement. “For food.”
They pulled on underwear and wrapped themselves in soft, expensive robes bearing famous, embroidered initials. She slid her feet into silk slippers and together they headed down to the kitchen.
Bug was there, looking even more disturbed than usual. He was breathing hard. Diana glared at him, wondering whether he had been spying on them.
“There’s a boat coming,” Bug said.
“What do you mean?” Diana asked.
“A motorboat. It’s real near.”
Caine was out the door in a flash and Diana had to run to catch up. The sky was near dark, the sun setting gorgeously and sending fingers of gold and red across the water below them.
And there, shockingly close, was a motorboat. She saw one person aboard, a boy, but could not make out his shadowed face.
She looked searchingly at Caine. On his face she saw the expression she expected to see, the expression she dreaded.
His eyes were alight, his mouth in a feral grin. His whole body seemed to lean forward, anticipating, ready. Excited.
“Whoever it is, just tell him to leave,” Diana said.
“Let’s at least find out who it is,” Caine said.
“Caine, just get rid of him.”
The boat scared Diana. She wrapped her arms around herself as if shielding herself from cold.
Now the boy in the boat looked up.
“It’s Quinn,” Caine said. “What’s he doing here? I expected it to be Zil or one of his losers.”
“You expected?” Diana frowned. “What do you mean, you expected?”
Caine shrugged. “Sooner or later one of them was going to come to me.”