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“I lost someone I loved at the lake,” Edilio said, his voice full of emotion. “Maybe seventy kids died up there. Just now, six, eight more. Now, Brianna dead. More to come. Well, some of that is on you, Caine. So you are going to step up. You hear me? You are going to step up.”
Edilio had nothing else to say, and Caine seemed to have no answer. So Edilio turned back to Dekka and Jack and said, “That’s it for grieving. We do more grieving later if we’re alive. Right now we fall back and get ready for plan B.”
“There’s a plan B?” Jack asked.
“You’re another one,” Edilio snapped. “You’re not going to tell me again that you won’t fight, because I swear to God I’ll shoot you myself.” Then i
n a more measured voice he said, “Yes, there’s a plan B. We fight that evil creature every step of the way. Caine, Orc, Jack, Dekka, follow me.”
He didn’t look back to see if they were following him.
He didn’t need to.
It was just luck that Sam was gone and Alex was not when Gaia rejoined the highway, fuming, and crying in pain and frustration as she dealt with her wounds and confronted the fact that in killing Brianna she had deprived herself of a power.
Stupid!
No, not stupid: necessary. They were stronger than she’d thought. They were more dangerous.
And then she heard movement in the darkness. She had her hands up, ready to kill, when it occurred to her who it might be.
The adult human, the food, stepped into view. He was carrying something in his one remaining arm. A head.
Drake!
“Come here!” Gaia demanded.
Alex came up in a mix of hesitancy and sudden, rushing steps. The sight of him made her salivate. She was very hungry.
But Drake, ah, he could be useful. Had she had him in these last few fights, she wouldn’t now be skulking this way.
“What happened to you?” Gaia demanded of the head. “You were supposed to feed me.”
“Brianna happened,” Drake whispered.
“Ah. Then you’ll be happy to learn she’s dead.”
Drake’s shark mouth twisted into a ghastly grin. For some reason there was a lizard’s tail protruding between his eyes.
“I wonder . . .,” Gaia whispered to herself. She had Drake, she had Alex, she had the healing power, and she was hungry. It was a puzzle. The solution that occurred to her in a flash of genius was imperfect, but it might work, given time. And if it worked, she’d have a faithful and dangerous ally.
And a meal.
She stepped closer to Alex, who bobbed his head and grinned a sickly, cringing, frightened smile.
Gaia smiled back to calm him. Then with a single swipe of her deadly light she cut the head from his shoulders. It hit the ground with a surprisingly loud thump.
The Drake head dropped from Alex’s dead fingers.
And, finally, Alex’s body collapsed in a heap.
There wasn’t much blood: his heart was no longer pumping.
Gaia dropped to her knees, lifted Drake’s head, and pressed it against the stump of Alex’s neck.
Drake tried to speak, but now his airway was blocked.
“Transplant,” Gaia explained. She held the head in place and focused her healing power. Would it work? Drake was no longer fully human, and Alex was dead, but only just.
