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“There are other issues,” Sam said. “We’ve got trouble here between freaks and normals.”
Brianna made a dismissive sound. “I’ll run around and slap some of them a few times, they’ll get over themselves, and we’ll get busy at the power plant.” She leaned close. “I found a way in through the roof.”
That was interesting news. Interesting enough to make Sam reconsider. “A way into what? The turbine room?”
“Dude, there’s a door on the roof. I don’t know where it goes, but it has to go into the turbine room. Probably.”
Sam tried to shake himself out of his funk, but he couldn’t quite do it, couldn’t quite focus. He felt deflated. Weary beyond belief. “You’re hurt,” he observed.
“Yeah, and it stings, too. Where’s Lana? I need some curing. Then we can do some butt-kicking.”
“We lost Lana. She took off.”
That piece of news rocked even Brianna’s eager confidence. “What?”
“Things are not going well,” Sam said.
He felt Brianna’s worried gaze. He wasn’t setting a good example. He wasn’t exactly taking charge. He knew all that. But he couldn’t shake off the indifference that sapped his every attempt to formulate a plan.
“You need some rest,” Brianna said at last.
“Yeah,” Sam said. “No doubt.”
The voices were familiar. Dekka. Taylor. Howard.
“Sun’s coming up,” Taylor said. “The sky’s turning gray.”
“We have to do something about Brittney and Mickey,” Dekka said.
“I don’t deal with dead bodies.” Howard.
“I guess we could, you know, send them back to town for Edilio to bury,” Dekka said.
Taylor sighed. “Things are bad back there. I’ve never seen Sam like that. I mean, he’s just…”
Dekka said, “He’ll get over it.” She didn’t sound too sure of that. “But yeah, maybe this isn’t the time to ask him to speak at a burial.”
“Maybe we could just cover them up. You know, haul Mickey over here, maybe just put a blanket over them or something for now.”
“Yeah. One of
these cars around here must have a blanket in the trunk. A tarp. Something. Get Orc to pop some trunks open, huh?”
Which was how Brittney ended up nestled next to Mickey, under the shelter of a painter’s drop cloth.
She felt no pain.
She saw no light.
She heard, but barely.
Her heart was still and silent.
Yet she did not die.
Albert had no time to waste. He and Quinn had finally told Sam about their gold mission. About Lana going off with Cookie.
They’d found Sam listless, not as mad as either of them had expected. He’d listened with his eyes closed and a couple of times Albert thought he might have nodded off.
