Gone

hands of the refugees. She was staggering from exhaustion and finally, as Sam watched, her legs folded under her and she fell to the grass. Before he could even get up to help, some of the Coates kids stretched her out with gentleness bordering on reverence. They rolled jackets to make her a pillow and borrowed a blanket from a tattered pup tent to spread over her.
    “Okay, I’ll talk to them,” Astrid said. But she still looked reluctant. “I can’t read people like Diana does.”
    “That’s what’s bothering you? You’re not my Diana. And hopefully I’m not Caine.”
    “I guess I was hoping this would all kind of be over. At least for a while.”
    “I think it will be over. For a while. But first we have to plan and make sure we’re ready when Caine comes back.”
    “You’re right.” She smiled wanly. “Anyway, it’s not like I was dreaming of a big meal, a hot shower, and hours and hours of sleep.”
    “Yeah. You wouldn’t want to start getting soft now, would you?” Something else occurred to him. “But hey, keep L. P. happy, huh? I don’t want you disappearing suddenly.”
    “That would be a shame, wouldn’t it?” she said dryly. “Maybe I’ll try Quinn’s trick: Hawaii, Petey, Hawaii.”
    Astrid rounded up her brother, made sure he was okay, then plunged into the crowd.
    Sam motioned Edilio closer. “Edilio. I have something I need you to do.”
    “Whatever you want.”
    “It involves driving. And it involves keeping a secret.”
    “The secret is no problem. Driving?” He gulped theatrically, like a cartoon character doing a double take.
    “I need you to get a truck and go to the power plant.” He explained what he wanted, and Edilio’s expression grew darker with each word. When he was done, Sam asked, “Can you handle that? You’ll need to take at least one other guy with you.”
    “I can do it,” Edilio said. “I’m not happy about it, but you know that.”
    “Who will you take with you?”
    “Elwood, I guess, if Dahra will let me borrow him.”
    “Okay. Go take an hour or two to figure out how to drive.”
    “A day or two more like it,” Edilio said. But then he executed a mock salute and said, “No problem, General.”
    Sam sat alone now, shoulders hunched, head buzzing from lack of sleep and the aftereffects of pain and fear. He needed to think, he told himself, needed to prepare. Caine would be planning.
    Caine. His brother.
    His brother.
    How long did he have? Three days.
    In three days he would…disappear.
    And so would Caine.
    Maybe die. Maybe be changed in some way. Maybe just pop neatly back into the old universe with lots of incredible stories to tell.
    And leave Astrid behind.
    If Caine had been a normal, well-adjusted person, he might spend his last days preparing for whatever the poof meant—death, disappearance, escape. But Sam doubted Caine would do that. Caine would need to triumph over Sam. That need would be even greater than the need to be ready for the end.
    “I never have liked birthdays,” Sam muttered.
    Albert Hillsborough had finished handing out burgers to grateful Coates kids. He climbed the steps to Sam.
    “Glad you’re back, man,” Albert said.
    For some reason, Sam felt compelled to stand and offer his hand to the kid. Albert shook it solemnly.
    “It’s cool what you’ve done, keeping the Mickey D’s open.”
    Albert looked faintly annoyed. “We don’t call it Mickey D’s. It’s McDonald’s. It will always be McDonald’s. Although,” he allowed, “I’ve strayed pretty far from the standard operating manual.”
    “I saw the waffle-burgers.”
    There was something on Albert’s mind. Whatever it was, Sam didn’t have the time or the energy, but Albert was becoming an important person, someone not to blow off. “What’s up, Albert?”
    “Well, I’ve done inventory at Ralph’s, and I think if I had a lot of help, I could put together an okay Thanksgiving dinner.”
    Sam stared at him. He blinked. “What?”
    “Thanksgiving. It’s next week.”
    “Uh-huh.”
    “There are ovens at Ralph’s, big ones. And no one has taken the frozen turkeys. Figure two hundred and fifty kids if pretty much everyone from Perdido Beach shows up, right? One turkey will feed maybe eight people, so we need thirty-one, thirty-two turkeys. No problem there, because there are forty-six turkeys at Ralph’s.”
    “Thirty-one turkeys?”
    “Cranberry sauce will be no problem, stuffing is no problem, no one has taken much stuffing