Plague
Page 81
She had missed her chance to be a hero by destroying the gaiaphage. And she had failed to stop the virus that now claimed nine bodies. Instead she’d saved a couple of creeps. Yay for her.
She and Howard found Albert just as he’d said: sitting with his back against the wall.
Lana noticed an awful lot of blood. A small, sticky sea of it around Albert.
“He didn’t die right away,” Lana observed. “Dead people don’t bleed as much. And see how the wall is smeared? He sat up.” She knelt and placed her fingers on his neck. “Then he just sat here and bled to death.”
No question in her mind. He had a bullet hole in his face. And a much larger exit wound out the far side. It looked as if some wild animal had taken a messy bite out of his skull.
“I don’t raise the dead,” Lana said.
“No, wait,” Howard insisted. He knelt beside her and lifted one eyelid. It was dark, there wasn’t much light for an iris to react to. So Howard fished out a lighter and flicked the flame.
Lana’s eyebrows went up. “Do it again.”
Howard lifted the other lid. That iris, too, responded.
“Huh,” Lana said.
She pressed both hands against Albert’s head. After a few minutes holding that pose she bent his head forward to see the awful exit wound. Around the jagged, ripped edges, flesh was growing.
“The brother’s not dead,” Howard said.
“About as close as you can get,” Lana said. “But no: he’s not dead. And this kind of thing, at least, I can heal.”
“Boy’s going to owe me,” Howard said.
“You’re a trip, Howard, as my dad would say,” Lana said. “You are definitely a trip.”
“You’ll tell Albert I brought you, right? You’ll tell him it was me, right?”
“Why? Are you leaving?”
Howard stood up. “Gotta go find Orc. I just figured out where he’d go.”
Lana got herself into a more comfortable position. Patrick went off to scavenge around in the house.
“You find anything, you better share,” Lana called after her dog.
The two boats raced toward each other.
Six seconds to impact.
Sam’s mind was racing. Drake would know he was bluffing. Drake didn’t fear an impact, he would know Sam was bluffing and he would expect Sam to suddenly veer aside.
Four seconds to impact.
“Jack!” Sam yelled. “Up on the bow!”
“What?”
“Do it!” Sam bellowed.
Jack sprang straight from the stern to the bow. He was holding the boathook like a lance. Like he really was a knight. Hopefully Drake had noticed.
One second.
“Now, throw it!” Sam shouted.
Jack threw it with all his desperate, supernatural strength.
Sam had not expected the boathook to impale Drake— and it didn’t. But even an unkillable killer had instincts, and Drake instinctively dropped to let the boathook fly harmlessly over his head.
Sam had already twisted the wheel.
They blew past Drake’s boat, spraying it with their bow wave and taking a drenching spray in return.
Dekka grinned at Toto. “See, this is what makes Sam, Sam.”
It took a furious Drake ten seconds to turn his boat and come after Sam.
The bugs were even slower to catch on. Now they were racing back along the shore, but neither Drake nor the bugs would get to the marina before Sam.
“Okay,” Sam yelled over the throb of the engines. “Toto, when we get there you pump like crazy, right? I’ll show you how. But Drake will be on us quick and he may try again to ram us, so Jack? You and Dekka be ready.”
“Ready to do what?”
“Hang on!” Sam yelled. He aimed the boat for the dock, threw it into reverse, the water boiled, the engine roared, and the boat scraped harshly to a stop by the gas pump.
Sam grabbed Toto and shoved him bodily up onto the dock.
“Dekka! Tie us off.” He unlimbered the hand pump, thrust the nozzle into the gas tank and physically placed Toto’s hands on the pump. “Up and down, up and down, and don’t stop until I tell you to.”
Sam ran to the end of the dock. Drake was roaring down on them. Sam glanced left, right, looking for what he needed. A low-slung sailboat. That would do.
“Dekka! Float that boat!”
Dekka raised her hands and the boat rose from the water, dripping all over them, tilting to one side so that for a moment Sam was afraid it would roll over and smash its mast down on their heads.
“Okay, Jack. You missed with the boathook. Try this!”
Jack had to skirt Dekka’s field, and for a second he lost his footing and almost fell into the water. Sam grabbed his hand and hauled him upright.
Jack backed up twenty feet, took a deep breath, and ran straight at the boat that now hovered over the end of the dock.
Sam had the pleasure of seeing the sudden realization dawn in Drake’s eyes.
Jack rushed forward, jumped, and hit the stern of the sailboat.
The boat flew, twisting crazily through the air. Not far, just twenty or thirty feet before it exploded into flames as Sam aimed and fired.
The boat fell, hit the water, and Drake’s boat smashed into it at full speed.
Both boats shattered, flaming wood splinters flew, bits of metal railing and big pieces of the engine spiraled and landed like shrapnel all around them.
Toto cried out in pain. His hip had been hit and he was bleeding and screaming and not pumping any longer.
She and Howard found Albert just as he’d said: sitting with his back against the wall.
Lana noticed an awful lot of blood. A small, sticky sea of it around Albert.
“He didn’t die right away,” Lana observed. “Dead people don’t bleed as much. And see how the wall is smeared? He sat up.” She knelt and placed her fingers on his neck. “Then he just sat here and bled to death.”
No question in her mind. He had a bullet hole in his face. And a much larger exit wound out the far side. It looked as if some wild animal had taken a messy bite out of his skull.
“I don’t raise the dead,” Lana said.
“No, wait,” Howard insisted. He knelt beside her and lifted one eyelid. It was dark, there wasn’t much light for an iris to react to. So Howard fished out a lighter and flicked the flame.
Lana’s eyebrows went up. “Do it again.”
Howard lifted the other lid. That iris, too, responded.
“Huh,” Lana said.
She pressed both hands against Albert’s head. After a few minutes holding that pose she bent his head forward to see the awful exit wound. Around the jagged, ripped edges, flesh was growing.
“The brother’s not dead,” Howard said.
“About as close as you can get,” Lana said. “But no: he’s not dead. And this kind of thing, at least, I can heal.”
“Boy’s going to owe me,” Howard said.
“You’re a trip, Howard, as my dad would say,” Lana said. “You are definitely a trip.”
“You’ll tell Albert I brought you, right? You’ll tell him it was me, right?”
“Why? Are you leaving?”
Howard stood up. “Gotta go find Orc. I just figured out where he’d go.”
Lana got herself into a more comfortable position. Patrick went off to scavenge around in the house.
“You find anything, you better share,” Lana called after her dog.
The two boats raced toward each other.
Six seconds to impact.
Sam’s mind was racing. Drake would know he was bluffing. Drake didn’t fear an impact, he would know Sam was bluffing and he would expect Sam to suddenly veer aside.
Four seconds to impact.
“Jack!” Sam yelled. “Up on the bow!”
“What?”
“Do it!” Sam bellowed.
Jack sprang straight from the stern to the bow. He was holding the boathook like a lance. Like he really was a knight. Hopefully Drake had noticed.
One second.
“Now, throw it!” Sam shouted.
Jack threw it with all his desperate, supernatural strength.
Sam had not expected the boathook to impale Drake— and it didn’t. But even an unkillable killer had instincts, and Drake instinctively dropped to let the boathook fly harmlessly over his head.
Sam had already twisted the wheel.
They blew past Drake’s boat, spraying it with their bow wave and taking a drenching spray in return.
Dekka grinned at Toto. “See, this is what makes Sam, Sam.”
It took a furious Drake ten seconds to turn his boat and come after Sam.
The bugs were even slower to catch on. Now they were racing back along the shore, but neither Drake nor the bugs would get to the marina before Sam.
“Okay,” Sam yelled over the throb of the engines. “Toto, when we get there you pump like crazy, right? I’ll show you how. But Drake will be on us quick and he may try again to ram us, so Jack? You and Dekka be ready.”
“Ready to do what?”
“Hang on!” Sam yelled. He aimed the boat for the dock, threw it into reverse, the water boiled, the engine roared, and the boat scraped harshly to a stop by the gas pump.
Sam grabbed Toto and shoved him bodily up onto the dock.
“Dekka! Tie us off.” He unlimbered the hand pump, thrust the nozzle into the gas tank and physically placed Toto’s hands on the pump. “Up and down, up and down, and don’t stop until I tell you to.”
Sam ran to the end of the dock. Drake was roaring down on them. Sam glanced left, right, looking for what he needed. A low-slung sailboat. That would do.
“Dekka! Float that boat!”
Dekka raised her hands and the boat rose from the water, dripping all over them, tilting to one side so that for a moment Sam was afraid it would roll over and smash its mast down on their heads.
“Okay, Jack. You missed with the boathook. Try this!”
Jack had to skirt Dekka’s field, and for a second he lost his footing and almost fell into the water. Sam grabbed his hand and hauled him upright.
Jack backed up twenty feet, took a deep breath, and ran straight at the boat that now hovered over the end of the dock.
Sam had the pleasure of seeing the sudden realization dawn in Drake’s eyes.
Jack rushed forward, jumped, and hit the stern of the sailboat.
The boat flew, twisting crazily through the air. Not far, just twenty or thirty feet before it exploded into flames as Sam aimed and fired.
The boat fell, hit the water, and Drake’s boat smashed into it at full speed.
Both boats shattered, flaming wood splinters flew, bits of metal railing and big pieces of the engine spiraled and landed like shrapnel all around them.
Toto cried out in pain. His hip had been hit and he was bleeding and screaming and not pumping any longer.
