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But out there! The motel signs, the Carl’s sign, the camera lights, the flashing police lights, the headlights and taillights . . . She half closed her eyes and it became a single beacon of light, like a pulsing searchlight aimed right at her.
As she had headed down the hill, she had seen all the rest of them, all the kids. How many? More than a hundred, surely. The light from out there was like a cold sun shining on their faces.
Mostly people weren’t bothering to try and communicate. Most had seen their parents and written notes and waved and all of that.
Sinder had not. Sinder hadn’t thought she could bear it. But now in the light of day she searched the crowd out there. So many faces, some looking in, some looking away. They all looked so clean. They all wore clothing of the correct size. They were unarmed. And they all had food. They were having breakfast sandwiches and donuts and coffee.
Sinder’s stomach churned. But she was so much better nourished than most of these kids. They were skin and bones, a lot of them. Kids at the lake had been eating better than those in town.
Yeah, well, most of them were dead now, so what good had it been, feeding them?
Was her mother or father there? She searched the crowd, hundreds of faces. Then she saw the HD monitor that advertised “Reunion Center.” She went to it.
A bored-looking twentysomething out there looked at her quizzically, then, seeing the question in Sinder’s eyes, held up a placard. Searching for Loved Ones?
Yes, Sinder thought. I am. Loved ones. Living loved ones. I have plenty of dead loved ones.
Your Name?
Sinder had no paper. She wrote it in the dirt. The woman made the universal symbol for phone call. Then she pulled out a phone and started texting.
Sinder nodded her head gratefully. The woman signed that she should sit and wait patiently.
Sinder did just that. Then, to kill time while she waited, and to take her mind off the nervousness that came with the thought of seeing her parents again, she searched for some living thing she could help grow. Unfortunately the area had been trampled pretty thoroughly. Not even an intact blade of grass.
“How are you feeling, Sam?”
He opened his eyes, looked up at Astrid, seemed momentarily baffled as to where he was, looked back at her, and smiled. “Better now.”
He struggled to sit up.
“No, no, take it easy. You’re better, but you’re not well yet.” She stroked his hair, and he let her. “Also you’re strapped to a board.”
Suddenly he was alarmed. “Gaia?”
“She’s hurt. She ran off.”
“But not dead.”
Astrid shook her head.
“Something’s burning,” he said, sniffing the air.
“Yes,” Astrid said. “Yeah. The forest is burning. I don’t know how far it’s gone.”
Sam closed his eyes and nodded. “Me and Gaia. I wasn’t even thinking, I just fired . . .”
“Trying to stay alive?”
“How about Caine?”
Astrid began to unwind the shreds of cloth that held him to the board. The way he was straining to get up it was obvious his back was working.
“Are you ready for all this?” Astrid asked him.
“Lay it out for me,” he said, and smiled wanly at her and sat up. “You’re so beautiful. And my shoulder still hurts.”
Astrid filled him in on what had happened. She avoided talking about the fact that Sam, by his very existence, was empowering Gaia. Nor did she talk about her futile and now seemingly ridiculous attempt to contact Little Pete. She stuck to the facts: Caine and Diana reportedly run off to the island; Edilio bracing for Gaia’s next attack; fire visible in the northwest; kids in the fields but scared to death.
