Gone

you.”
    “Yeah? What does my brother want?”
    “Caine says it’s you or him.”
    “I figured that.”
    “He says if you don’t do what he says, he’ll turn Drake and the coyotes loose on the prees.”
    Sam stifled the urge to punch the little monster for the smug way in which he had delivered his vicious threat. “Okay.”
    “Okay. So, everyone has to come out in the open. All your people. Out in the open, out in the plaza where we can see them. If anyone stays in hiding, you know what happens.”
    “What else?”
    “Your people all set their guns or whatever on the steps of town hall. All your freaks go into the church.”
    “He’s asking me to surrender before we even fight,” Sam said.
    Bug shrugged. “He said if you argue, Drake is going to start turning the coyotes loose on one kid at a time. You have to do all this and then Caine and you go mano a mano. If you win, no problem, Drake lets the littles go. All your side goes free. Caine goes back to Coates.”
    “Why are you doing this, Bug? You’re okay with this? Threatening little kids?”
    Bug shrugged. “Man, I’m not going to mess with Caine or Drake.”
    Sam nodded. His mind was already elsewhere, trying to find a way, trying to find a path. “Tell Caine I’ll answer him in an hour.”
    Bug grinned. “He said you’d say that. See? He’s smart. He said you have to send your answer back with me. Yes or no, with no extras or anything.”
    Sam glanced at the steeple. He wished Astrid was here. She might have an answer.
    The terms were impossible. He was absolutely sure, sure beyond any reasonable doubt, that even if he won, even if somehow Caine admitted defeat, Drake would never just walk away.
    One way or the other, he had to beat Drake as well as Caine.
    There were a thousand thoughts in his head, a thousand fears, yammering at him, crowding one another, demanding attention as Bug stared at him, impatient to be on his way. There was no time to make sense of it all. No time to plan. Just as Caine had intended.
    Sam’s shoulders slumped. “Tell Caine I accept.”
    “Okay,” Bug said, no more concerned than he would have been by an announcement that he was having chicken for dinner.
    The chameleon blended into the background, all but disappearing. Sam watched him trotting off, a warping of light and image. He soon became impossible to make out.
    Sam keyed the walkie-talkie. “Astrid. Now.” Edilio had been watching from his post in the hardware store. He came trotting out.
    Sam steadied his breathing, kept a careful poker face. There were too many eyes on him. Too many people needing to believe in him.
    On that school bus so long ago, no one had even realized there was a problem before Sam was up and taking charge. It was harder being bold when the whole world seemed to be watching your every move.
    With Astrid and Edilio beside him, Sam quickly related Caine’s terms. “We have very little time. Caine will send that chameleon back to spy, right after he reports back to Caine. Caine will move fast, he won’t want to give us any time to prepare.”
    “Do you have a plan?” Astrid asked.
    “Kind of. A piece of a plan, anyway. We need to stall a little. Bug sees Caine, Bug comes back, that’s probably five minutes minimum wherever Caine is, probably a little more. Then Bug has to see whether we are doing what we’ve been told to do. He’s going to see people out in the open, and he’s going to see our Coates friends heading into the church. Then he’ll report that back. Caine will say, ‘Make sure they’re all in.’”
    “More time.” Astrid nodded agreement. “We don’t hurry. In fact, maybe we have to force some of the kids, maybe they’re arguing. You’re right, Caine won’t show up till he’s sure.”
    “If we’re lucky, we have a half hour,” Edilio said. He glanced at his watch, not easy to read in the swiftly falling night.
    “Yeah. Okay. All I’ve done so far is screw up. So if this is crazy, someone tell me.”
    “You’re our guy, Sam,” Edilio said.
    Astrid squeezed his hand.
    “Then here’s what we do.”

    Mary read.
    She sang.
    She did everything short of tap-dance. But there was no distracting the children from the horror before them. With solemn, fearful expressions they followed Drake’s every move. The whip hand filled every eye.
    Some of the coyotes had gone to sleep. Others, though, eyed the children with a look that could only be described as hungry.
    Mary wished she had another