Hunger

“I’ll bet you five ’Bertos this doesn’t work.”
    Howard had dismissed Albert’s list of names for the new currency and had dubbed them “Albertos.” ’Bertos. The name had stuck. It was Howard’s peculiar genius to invent names for things.
    “I don’t need money,” Astrid said. “I need to cut your hair. I like seeing your face. Although I can’t imagine why.”
    “Done.” Sam shook her hand, sealing the bet.
    “Ready?” Quinn called out.
    “Orc, you ready?” Sam asked.
    Orc nodded his head.
    “Do it,” Sam said.
    Quinn lifted one of the blue bats and hurled it into the cabbage field. In a flash, the worms swarmed over it. In seconds it was just bones, like a turkey after a Thanksgiving feast.
    “Okay, let’s test this,” Sam ordered.
    Quinn tossed the second bat to Orc. Orc caught it and walked into the field. After a dozen steps, he tossed the blue bat ahead of him.
    Again, the surge of worms. Again, the zekes reduced it to bones.
    “Okay, Orc,” Sam said.
    Orc bent down and yanked up a cabbage.
    He tossed it back to land at Sam’s feet. A second and a third cabbage followed.
    The zekes made no move toward Orc.
    But they wouldn’t be sure until the zekes were offeredsomething more easily digested than Orc’s stone feet.
    “Breeze?” Sam said.
    Brianna hefted a bat and zipped into the field. Sam waited, tense, knowing she was faster than the worms, but still…
    Brianna tossed the bat. The zekes hit it.
    And Brianna ripped a cabbage from the ground.
    “You know,” Astrid said, “I seem to recall a certain condescending—one might even say contemptuous—response when I first suggested negotiating with the zekes.”
    “Huh,” Sam said. “Who would ever be dumb enough to be condescending to you?”
    “Oh, it was this bald guy I know.”
    Sam sighed. “Okay. Okay. Grab your scissors and do your worst.”
    “Actually,” Astrid said, “there’s something else you have to do first.”
    “Always something,” Sam said gloomily.
    Quinn joined them and apologized for stinking of fish.
    “Brah, don’t apologize. You’re a very big part of keeping people from starving.”
    The other reason the danger of mass starvation had receded for a while, at least, was Hunter. He had recovered most of his function, although his speech seemed permanently slurred, and one eye drooped above a down-twisted mouth.
    Hunter had been charged with killing Harry. He had been sentenced to exile from Perdido Beach. He would live apart from them, alone, but living up to the name his parents had given him.
    So far, Hunter had killed a second deer and a number of smaller animals. He dropped them at the loading dock of Ralph’s. He asked for nothing in return.
    Dekka bent over and lifted one of the cabbages. “This would go great with some roasted pigeon.”
    Hunter’s trial had been carried out by a jury of six kids, under rules set up by the Temporary Council: Sam, Astrid, Albert, Edilio, Dekka, Howard, and the youngest member, Brother John Terrafino.
    “Well, back to work, huh?” Sam said.
    “Get in the car,” Astrid said.
    “What are—”
    “Let me rephrase. By order of the Temporary Council: get in the car.”
    She steadfastly refused to explain what was happening on the drive back to town. Edilio drove, and he was equally mum.
    Edilio pulled up and parked in the town beach parking lot.
    “Why are we going to the beach? I have to get back to town hall. I have, like, all this stuff—”
    “Not now,” Edilio said firmly.
    Sam stopped walking. “What’s up, Edilio?”
    “I’m supposed to be the sheriff, right? That’s my new title?” Edilio said. “Okay, then, you are under arrest.”
    “Under arrest? What are you talking about?”
    “You are under arrest for trying to kill a kid named Sam Temple.”
    “Not funny.”
    But Edilio persisted. “Trying to kill a kid…just a kid …named Sam Temple. By stressing him out with the whole load of the world on his back.”
    Sam didn’t find it amusing. Angry, he turned back toward town. But there was Astrid, close on his heels. And Brianna. Quinn, too.
    “What are you all up to?” Sam demanded.
    “We voted,” Astrid said. “It was unanimous. By order of the Perdido Beach Temporary Council, we sentence you, Sam Temple, to relax.”
    “Okay. I’m relaxed. Now can I get back to work?”
    Astrid took his arm and all but hauled him across the beach. “You know what’s interesting, Sam? I’ll tell you what’s interesting. A