Hunger

here.”
    He was not interested in Edilio or Dekka. Not even interested in Sam. So sad that Diana would die this way, all her beautiful hair gone. She looked younger this way. Innocent. Not a word he or anyone else had ever applied to Diana.
    “Lana,” Sam said.
    Caine felt the faintest flicker. Lana. But where was the Healer?
    As if he had heard the question, Quinn said, “She’s in there. She’s in there, with…it.”
    Caine looked at the mine shaft. He had been down there before. He knew what lay inside. And now, the fuel rod, too.
    “We need to…,” Sam whimpered, unable to finish.
    Caine nodded. “She must be dead after that.”
    “Maybe not,” Sam managed to say. “Maybe not.”
    “There’s no way to get in there now, anyway. It’s a wall of rock. It’s a lot harder to move rock back out. I’d have to move the whole mountain,” Caine said. “Hours. Days.”
    Sam shook his head and bit his lip as though he would bite it off. Caine saw him hold on barely as the pain passed through him.
    “May have another way,” Sam said finally, staring back down the trail.
    “Another way?” Caine asked.
    “Duck,” Sam said.
    And Caine did, instinctively. There was a rush of wind and a cloud of dust and all at once, there was Brianna.
    And towing along behind her, like some crazy balloon on a rope, a kid floating in midair and looking like someone had just taken him on a roller-coaster ride from hell.
    “Are we there?” Duck, asked, his eyes squeezed shut. “Am I done now?”

    “You want to eat?” Zil roared from atop his convertible perch.
    The crowd roared its assent. Though not every voice. Astrid clung to that fact: there was grumbling and uncertainty as well as acquiescence.
    “Then grab on to the rope!” Zil cried.
    The rope stretched across the plaza. It ended around Hunter’s neck. It would take no more than half a dozen willing executioners to do the foul deed.
    Astrid began to pray. She prayed in a loud voice, hoping it would shame them, hoping that somehow it would reach through the madness.
    “Grab on!” Zil cried, and he jumped down and seized the rope himself. The rest of his crew did the same.
    Then four…five…ten…
    Kids Astrid knew by name took hold of the rope.
    “Pull!” Zil screamed. “Pull!”
    The rope tightened. More came forward and took hold. But others, just a couple, changed their minds and let go.
    It was a confusion of hands. A mess that turned suddenly to a shoving match.
    The rope still tightened. It became a straight line.
    And Astrid, to her eternal horror, saw Hunter lifted off his feet.
    But the fight over the rope had turned nastier. Kids were pummeling one another, shouting, swinging wild fists.
    The rope slackened. Hunter’s kicking feet touched the ground.
    Kids rushed to pull on the rope. Others blocked their way. It was becoming a kind of full-scale riot. And then a couple of kids rushed at the meat, pushing past Antoine and Hank and Turk, literally walking over them in their desperation.
    Astrid took advantage of the melee to climb to her feet.
    Zil, enraged at losing control, at seeing the venison snatched away by desperate hands, shoved her hard.
    “Down on the ground, you freak-lover!”
    Astrid spit at him. She could see the color drain from Zil’sfurious face. He grabbed a baseball bat, raised it over her. And then he flew into the air.
    In his place stood Orc.
    Zil was dangling from his fist. Orc drew Zil to within an inch of his own frightening face. “No one hurts Astrid,” Orc bellowed so loud, Zil’s hair was blown back.
    Orc took a slow spin. Then a second, faster one, and launched Zil through the air.
    “You okay?” Orc asked Astrid.
    “I guess so,” she managed to say. She knelt beside Little Pete and touched the egg-sized lump on his head. He moved slightly, then opened his eyes.
    “Petey. Petey. Are you okay?” There was no answer, but for Little Pete, that wasn’t abnormal. Astrid looked up at Orc. “Thanks, Charles.”
    Orc grunted. “Yeah.”
    Howard appeared, threading his way through the scattering mob. “My man, Orc,” he said, and slapped Orc on his massive granite shoulder. Then, to the fleeing crowd, many loaded down with chunks of venison, he yelled, “Yeah, you better run away. You are some sorry fools messing with Sam’s girl. If Orc doesn’t get you, Sammy will.”
    He winked at Astrid. “Your boy so owes us.”
    “Yeah,” Orc agreed. “Someone better beer me pretty soon.”

    “What happened