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“I want you to be out of sight,” he said.
“But anytime
I do my thing, everything floats up. Dirt, plants, rocks . . . It’s not exactly invisible.”
“I know. I was thinking if you kept it just to the concrete on the road. Just like a narrow slice. Nothing to float there. Also, it’s starting to get dark, and the ash from the fire . . .”
Dekka nodded. “I can do it.”
Edilio had chosen a spot right at the edge of town, near Ralph’s grocery store. Open ground was his enemy: he needed places to hide shooters, he needed a complex terrain, and he needed to be concealed.
There was an overturned moving van. It had long since been looted, of course, and the household goods were strewn all around the area: leather easy chair, cracked by the sunlight; a dining-room table with wood bleached by exposure; a mattress in plastic wrap; boxes of books and boxes that had once held clothing. Knickknacks, lawn furniture, a bundle of brooms and mops, all of it tossed around on the road and the shoulder. The van itself was two-thirds empty, and what was left was just a jumble of small tables and chairs and cardboard. It was dark inside.
“Are Orc and Jack here yet?” Edilio called over his shoulder.
“Just walking up,” Dekka said.
“Okay, Dekka, find your spot, do your thing. About twenty yards down the road. You can hide behind that burned-out Volkswagen.”
Orc and Jack—one lumbering, the other stepping cautiously—appeared. Edilio pointed at the roof of the moving van, which was now a wall. “I want six holes punched in here, just big enough for a shooter to see through and shoot from.”
He walked away and heard six hard blows.
Did he have six capable shooters? He looked around. He’d started the day with twenty-four of his trained people. Somehow he was now down to seventeen. Some had gone to pick food, driven by hunger more than cowardice. Ten were lying in wait around the town plaza—plan B. More might join when the field hands came back. He had seven here. Six for the van, one to use as a sharpshooter with a scoped rifle fifty feet down the road.
“Don’t shoot until you see Gaia stumble or start to kind of float, right? When she walks into Dekka’s field. Once that happens, you shoot.” He held up a cautionary finger. “Shoot smart, like you’ve practiced, right? Aim every shot. Don’t stop until you’ve run out of ammo. Don’t assume she’s dead. Don’t forget, she can heal like Lana.”
Orc and Jack emerged from the van and Edilio said, “You get some sleep, Jack?”
“A little.”
“A little is all anyone got.”
“Yeah, but I—”
“Jack, I know you don’t want to fight.”
“I just—”
“I don’t care,” Edilio said flatly. “It’s no longer your choice. I’m drafting you.”
“You can’t—” Jack started to say.
“The one person I care most about is floating dead in a lake,” Edilio said. “Pretty soon everyone will be dead. That includes you, Jack. Everyone you know.”
Jack’s defiance withered as Edilio met his eyes and didn’t let go.
“Good,” Edilio said. “Here’s the way this goes.”
He laid out his plan, which hinged entirely on Gaia not spotting the ambush. Diana had told them all she could about her daughter, so they knew Gaia was nearsighted. Maybe that would help. Maybe, too, the fact that Gaia only had bits and pieces of human knowledge, so she hadn’t seen a hundred ambushes laid in a hundred movies and TV shows.
It was a pitiful plan. Gaia would burn through them like a hot knife through butter. They would be forced to run for it and they wouldn’t make it. Any who did survive would be caught in a panicky cross fire in the town plaza, where ten shooters hid in windows and doorways.
Well, ten minus however many had run off.
Edilio walked up the road to the very edge of Dekka’s gravity cancellation. He checked the clip in his automatic rifle. He slowly slid back the bolt to see the round already chambered. He stroked the safety with his index finger.
Where were Sam and Caine?
