“Because they’re starving.” A tiny girl to begin with, Sarah had shriveled. At her right hip, a holstered Sig P225 jutted like a black knucklebone. Greg wondered if she even knew how to fire the thing. She turned Greg a hollow stare. “You can only live on watered-down oatmeal, corn syrup, peanut butter, and the occasional acorn for so long. We’ve already lost seven kids. Another few weeks, they’re going to start really dropping like the old people.”
“Without their pills, those old guys were going to kick anyway,” Pru said. “Nothing Kincaid can do about that either. Get pneumonia, kiss it good-bye. Going to be big trouble.”
“We’re already in deep trouble.” Sarah spooled a listless curl around a finger. “Why do you think they moved all of us Spared to the center of town? We get a little more to eat than everyone else. But they might as well paint a bull’s-eye on our backs.”
“Sarah’s right,” Tori said. “Wasn’t it just yesterday that old man took a shot?”
“A .30-06,” Pru said. “I thought Greg was going to shit his pants.”
“The guy was just scared.” Greg still thought they could’ve talked the old man down, but Pru’s Ruger Mini-14 put the period to that conversation. In a bedroom, they found what the old guy was protecting: a cage of three scrawny parakeets. The sight made Greg want to cry.
“But people are shooting back, and it’s worse since the rationing. They’re killing horses, they’re shooting dogs.” Sarah ruffled the shepherd’s ears. “Jet and Ghost are still alive because they guard the kids, and Daisy’s yours, Greg. But they’ll come for them, too, eventually.”
“Then people, I bet.” Pru’s expression darkened. “Start off with the real old guys who won’t last much longer anyway.”
“Eating people? Come on, get real,” Greg said. “This isn’t Lord of the Flies. The Council would never allow it.”
“Oh, like they’re so relevant.” Pru gave an exaggerated eye-roll. “The only reason they’ve held on this long is because everyone was fed, and the village was real tight before everything went to hell. They had Peter, their miracle boy: too old to Change, not old enough to survive but Spared anyway—and his grandpa’s on the Council. Then, here comes Chris, another Spared, and, oh, he just happens to be Yeager’s grandson. A total God thing, and everyone calmed down. Peter cleared out the Changed, killed them all. People were fed; they felt safer. Remember their ceremonies on Sundays, how Yeager would bless us and spout all that crap about holy missions? Now with Peter and Chris gone and nothing coming in, it’s all falling apart.”
“Then we have to get out before we all starve, or get traded for food or something,” Sarah said. “Or maybe they’ll only pass us girls around as a reward. The way some stare, like Cutter—”
“Cutter?” Something flitted through Tori’s eyes, but when she said nothing, Greg looked back at Sarah. “He’s one of your guards.”
“Yeah, and I sleep so much better knowing he’s got keys. He hasn’t done anything, but you can hear the wheels turning. If he could figure a way . . .”
“I’ll get him moved somewhere else.”
“It’ll end up being the same no matter who gets posted.” Tori’s voice was strangely toneless. “I never used to worry. When Peter and Chris were in charge, they were like this indestructible team. But now?” She turned him a shimmery look. “Greg, we can’t count on the adults anymore. We need to take care of ourselves. So, either we take over or we leave.”
Greg threw up his hands. “And go where? East is out. Lot of cities, lot of people, a ton of Changed. That’s why Peter and Chris didn’t want us patrolling out that way. South is no good either. Once beyond the mine and closer to Iron Mountain, it starts getting real crowded.”
“If there’s anyone left.” Tori wrinkled her nose. “I don’t like south anyway. That earthquake two weeks ago? From the cave-in? That was pretty weird.”
If a cave-in’s all it was. A finger of unease dragged over Greg’s neck. Subsurface vibrations was what one of the real old-timers had said: You can get spontaneous combustion in a coal mine. But the Rule mine was iron first, gold second, and the rock’s inert. For that mine to cave bad enough to set off an earthquake, you need high explosives, and a lot of them.
Which begged the questions: who had access to high explosives, and why do it at all?
Aloud, he said, “So that leaves west. Wisconsin, Minnesota . . .”
“Wyoming,” Pru said. “Betcha it’s pretty empty.”
“Or we go north, maybe even into Canada.”
“Oren is north,” Sarah said. “Chris and Lena went north.”
There was a silence. “They went east,” Greg said.
“Greg, Chris knew east was dangerous, and he’s been to Oren. So if he’s alive . . .”
“Big if,” Greg said.
“Yeah, and I’ll bet he’d be real glad to see us, too, seeing as how he’s come back to rescue us and all,” Pru added sourly.
“No matter where we go, you’re talking forty kids,” Greg said. “We’d need wagons, food, ammo, horses. All stuff we don’t have.”
“If we take everyone,” Sarah said. “Maybe we don’t.”
“Oh?” Pru raised an eyebrow. “You got someone you want to kick off the island?”
“Yes. Aidan, Lucian, and Sam.” Sarah leveled a look. “I don’t trust them.”
Pru shrugged. “I’m okay with that.”
“Wait. I don’t know if it should be that simple,” Greg said. “We’re not choosing teams for a pickup game. Sure, I don’t like what they do, but I don’t have any better ideas.”
“You guys could not do it,” Tori put in. “Just because Peter decided torture was okay doesn’t mean it is. Won’t a prisoner say anything so you’ll stop hurting him?”
“Hey, that’s not fair,” Pru said. “Council had to approve, too.”
“Which most of us didn’t know about until Chris ran. So if torture was so okay, why hide it?” Tori’s attention stayed on Greg. “What would happen if you refused?”
“I don’t know.” Greg didn’t want to find out. It would be like telling the principal he was doing a sucky job: Gee, thanks for your opinion, kid, and that’ll be detention for the rest of your life. Look how easily Yeager decided to throw Chris into the prison house, and Chris was his grandson. He stood. “We gotta go. Can we just not decide on who until we figure out how, or if we should do this now? It’s still winter, for God’s sake.”
“Not for much longer. We need to decide, and soon.” When Greg only bent to zip his parka, Sarah continued, “Look, if you’re not with us? Fine. But stay out of our way.”
“What?” Greg snapped. “Sarah, in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not the enemy.”
“She’s just upset,” Tori said.
I’m not? “Don’t make excuses for her.”
“But don’t you see, Greg? It’s all coming down.” Sarah’s eyes brimmed. “Peter’s dead and Chris is gone and it’s all falling apart!”
“You think I don’t know that?” The red blaze of sudden anger was acid on his tongue. “Let me tell you about falling apart. Peter was my friend. The only reason I didn’t die in that ambush is because I went to Oren with Chris. There isn’t a day goes by I don’t think about how, maybe, I could’ve saved Peter. And what about Chris? He trusted me. If Chris had asked, I’d have helped him get out. But he didn’t and he’s gone. Now when there are decisions the Council wants enforced, they come to me, and you know what I get to do now? Boost some old people on a rumor that they got a couple spare gerbils lying around. So don’t tell me how things fall apart, Sarah.” He yanked his zipper so hard the metal should’ve sparked. “Been there, done that, bought the goddamned T-shirt.”
Tori caught up as he and Pru were halfway down the nave. “She’s just upset.”
“Lot of that going around,” Pru said.
“Don’t worry about it,” Greg said, still angry. “No big deal.”
“Yes, it is. Look, I . . .” Tori’s eyes flickered to Pru and then back. “Can we just talk a sec?”
“Uh . . . sure.” Greg looked over at Pru, who only hunched a shoulder and headed for the altar, hung a left, and ducked through an arched entry. Greg waited until he heard the clump of Pru’s boots on the steps, then turned back to Tori. “Yeah?”
“I didn’t mean to give you a hard time,” she said, giving his arm a light squeeze. “I’m glad the Council picked you to take Chris’s place and not Pru.”
“Oh.” His mouth dried up. Tori had never touched him before. No girl had. How strange was this, to be standing in a church with a girl he was majorly crushing on—and he was armed? “I don’t, ah . . .” He muzzled a cough. “It’s not like I had a lot of choice.”
Tori’s eyes were very blue, but that could’ve been because she was standing even closer than before. “You could’ve said no. But you didn’t. It’s easy for people to complain, like how I always got on my mom’s case when she wouldn’t let me stay up late?” Tori’s mouth moved in a smile so sad Greg had this weird impulse to cup her cheek the way his mom used to when he had a bad fever. “Now that we have all these little kids, I understand where she was coming from.”
“Most days I’d give anything for my mom to nag about homework or put away the Xbox. I don’t think she’d even recognize me anymore.”
“She’d recognize you. You’re doing the best you can.”
