Fear: A Gone Novel
it.
He was first up over the lip of the cliff. With a final heave he pushed himself up into the tall grass, rolled out of the way, and, lying on his back, looked up at the sky.
How very strange. Like being inside a soft-boiled egg with the top of the shell chipped away. Sky—normal-seeming sky—but covering only maybe a quarter of the space.
And the growing stain wasn’t night. There were no stars. There was nothing at all. Just blackness.
He stood up and helped the others as one by one they reached the top.
The sea spread for miles before splashing against the black dome. Far away to the south and east was Perdido Beach, lit in sepia, like a crinkly old photo from long ago.
Turning, Albert gazed in quiet satisfaction at the mansion. It was dark, of course. No one was running the generator, which meant Taylor wasn’t here.
She was Albert’s one concern. Taylor could pop in and out whenever she liked. This would be useful for him—Taylor could let him know what was going on in Perdido Beach and the lake.
On the other hand, Taylor was hard to control. Which was why he’d brought a small sack of combination locks. One would go on the pantry, one on the cover of the generator’s switch. Only Albert would know the combinations, so only Albert would control the food and the lights. That would chill Taylor’s independence a bit.
He ordered the girls to pull up the rope and coil it well back from the cliff’s edge. Then he scanned the sea between Perdido Beach and the island. No sign of boats. Which meant most probably no one was coming anytime soon.
But they would. Sitting terrified in the dark, hungry and desperate, kids would see a distant point of light. They would realize it was the island, and that light meant hope.
So just as soon as they had rested a little, had a bite to eat and a look around, Albert would get them busy hauling a couple of the missiles up to the top floor of the mansion. Because whenever that boat came, it, too, would have a light. A single point of light in the darkness.
Albert sighed. He had survived. But he had given up everything. All of Alberco. All he had accomplished. All he had built.
He would miss the challenge of the business.
“Come on, guys,” Albert said. “Come see our new home.”
Drake was pretty sure Brittney had emerged at least once while he was down in this cramped, oily engine room. But he was back now and Brittney had not moved.
Maybe she was getting smarter.
He listened for Sam’s voice. He heard nothing. That didn’t prove Sam was gone. But it meant Drake could take a small risk.
With his tentacle arm he edged the hatch up a quarter of an inch.
The light was definitely different. Strange. Like it was shining through a bottle of Coke or something. Unnatural.
Unsettling.
He pushed the hatch just a bit higher. There was a foot. Not moving. Just there, toes in his direction. He shifted. A second foot. Someone was seated right there, just a couple of feet away. Aimed in his direction.
Problem or opportunity?
That was the question.
The hatch came down suddenly, slammed back into place by running feet.
“Hey, you guys, be careful!”
Diana’s voice! He’d recognize it anywhere.
“Justin, you’re going to break your neck!”
Drake closed his eyes and let the pleasure of it wash over him. She was right there. And from the sound of it there were little kids on board.
Perfect.
Absolutely. Perfect.
Beyond the highway, out in the emptiness at the edge of the desert, Penny stepped on a broken bottle.
It was the bottom of a bottle, the base of what must have been a wine bottle. Green glass. Jagged. A sliver punched up through her calloused sole into the meat of her heel.
“Ahhhh!”
It hurt!
Tears came into Penny’s eyes. Blood gushed from her foot, puddling in the sand. She sat down hard and pulled her foot to her and saw the cut. Lana would have to—
Bandages. Band-Aids.
“Owww! Owww!”
Penny started crying aloud. She was hurt and no one would help her. And what would happen to her when it was dark?
It was all so unfair. So unfair. So wrong.
She’d been on top for not even a few minutes. She’d had Caine right where she wanted him, but no one liked her, and all they did was hate on her, and now her foot was hurt and bleeding.
But not as bad as when her legs were broken. Not as bad as that. And she had survived that, hadn’t she? She had survived and she had come out on top. She wondered how Caine liked having his hands
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