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“Yes. The only single person. But what we need is more people doing it. With less power.”
“You’re not getting anti-freak, are you?”
Albert pushed the idea away. “Don’t accuse me of being an idiot, okay?” It irritated him, Quinn standing up for Sam. He had nothing against Sam. Sam had kept them safe from Caine and that creep Drake and Pack Leader, Albert understood that. But the time for heroes was on its way out. Or at least he hoped it was. They needed to build an actual society with laws and rules and rights.
This was Perdido Beach, after all, not Sam’s Beach.
“Heard another kid, this is like the fourth, say he saw Drake Merwin during the fire,” Quinn said.
Albert snorted. “There’s a lot of bull going around.”
Quinn looked at him long enough that it almost made Albert uncomfortable. Then, Quinn said, “I guess if it turns out to be true we better hope Sam decides to come back.”
“Orc could take care of Drake. And he’d do it for a pint of vodka,” Albert said dismissively.
Quinn sighed and got up to leave. “Sometimes I worry about you, man.”
“Hey, I’m feeding people in case you didn’t notice,” Albert said. “Astrid talks and Sam pouts, and I get the job done. Me. Why? Because I don’t talk, I just do.”
Quinn sat back down. He leaned forward, elbows on knees. “Man, don’t you remember taking tests in school? Multiple choice: A, B, C, D, or E, all of the above.”
“Yeah?”
“Dude, sometimes the answer is ‘all of the above.’ This place needs you. And it needs Astrid. And it needs Sam. It’s all of the above, Albert.”
Albert blinked.
“I mean, no offense,” Quinn said quickly. “But it’s like Astrid’s yapping away about how we need some kind of system, and you’re counting your money, and Sam’s acting like we should all just shut up and get out of his way and let him fry whoever messes with him. And the three of you aren’t really stepping up. You aren’t working together, which is what all of us regular people need you to do. Because, and really, I’m not trying to be a jerk or whatever, but duh: we do need a system, and we do need you and your ’Bertos, and sometimes we need Sam to just come along and kick some ass.”
Albert said nothing. His brain was clicking away, but it occurred to him after a minute that he hadn’t said anything and that Quinn was waiting for an answer, and cringing a little like he expected Albert to lash out.
Quinn stood up again, shook his head ruefully, and said, “Okay, I get it. I’ll stick to fishing.”
Albert met his eyes. “Cookout in the plaza tonight. Spread the word, okay?”
THIRTY-FOUR
7 HOURS, 2 MINUTES
DIANA STARTED TO cry when Sanjit put the bowl of Cheerios in front of her. He poured from a carton of shelf-stable milk and the milk was so white and the cereal so fragrant, so wonderfully noisy as it sloshed around in the blue bowl.
She reached for it with her fingers. Then she noticed the spoon. It was clean. Bright.
With trembling fingers she dipped the spoon into the cereal and raised it to her lips. The rest of the world disappeared then, for just a few moments. Caine and Penny wolfed from their own bowls, Bug completely visible as he did likewise. But all she noticed, all she felt, was the cool crunch, the rush of sugar, the shock of recognition.
Yes, this was food.
Diana’s tears ran down her face into the spoon, adding a touch of salt to her second bite.
She blinked and saw Sanjit staring at her. He held the industrial-size box of cereal at the ready in one hand, the carton of milk in the other.
Penny laughed and spilled cereal and milk from her lips.
“Food,” Caine said.
“Food,” Bug agreed.
“What else do you have?” Caine asked.
