Lies

to hang back, wait for Orc. Maybe wait too long as Drake laid into terrified children. But Edilio had not made that decision.
    He wasn’t waiting for Orc.
    “And I’m not waiting for Sam,” Dekka decided.
    She started walking.
    The first gun fired. That creep Turk. It was as loud as the end of the world. Dekka saw the fire spray from the muzzle. Hot lead pellets hit the concrete before her. Some bounced upand embedded themselves in her legs.
    Hurt. Hurt more later.
    Dekka couldn’t reach Turk or Lance or Zil with her powers. Not from this distance.
    But she could make it really hard for them to aim.
    Dekka raised her hands high. Gravity failed.
    Dekka walked forward behind a wall of dirt and dust and swirling cacti.

    Sam was just at the twisted metal gate of the nuclear plant when he heard a rush of air and saw a blur.
    The blur stopped vibrating and became Brianna.
    She was holding something. Two somethings.
    Sam stared at the objects in her hands. Then he stared at her. Then back at the objects in her hands.
    He waited until she was done coughing, bent over.
    “No,” he said.
    “Sam, they need you. And they can’t wait for you to snail walk all the way back.”
    “Who needs me?” Sam asked skeptically.
    “Astrid told me to get you. No matter what it took.”
    Sam could not help but be pleased. “So. Astrid needs me.”
    Brianna rolled her eyes. “Yeah, Sam, you’re still necessary. You’re like a god to us mere mortals. We can’t live without you. Later we’re going to build you a temple. Satisfied?”
    Sam nodded, not meaning to agree, just meaning that he understood. “Is it Drake?”
    “I think Drake is just part of it,” Brianna said. “Astrid wasscared. In fact, I think your girlfriend may have had a really bad day.”
    Brianna dropped the skateboard in front of Sam. “Don’t worry: I won’t let you fall off.”
    “Yeah? Then why did you bring the helmet?”
    Brianna tossed it to him. “In case you fall off.”

    Edilio had trouble running in the sand. But maybe that wasn’t why he couldn’t seem to catch up with Drake.
    Maybe he didn’t want to catch up with Drake. Maybe he was scared to death of Drake. Orc had fought Drake to a draw once. Sam had fought him and come out on the losing end.
    Caine had killed him.
    And yet, there was Drake. Alive. As Sam had known he was. As Sam had feared. The psychopath lived.
    Edilio stumbled and tripped in the sand. His automatic rifle hit muzzle first and fired, BAM BAM BAM into the sand as Edilio accidentally squeezed the trigger.
    Edilio stayed on his knees. Get up, he told himself. Get up, this is what you do. Get up.
    He got up. He started running again. Heart pounding like it would tear itself loose.
    Drake wasn’t far away now, just a hundred feet, maybe, not far. Whipping some poor kid who’d run too slowly.
    Edilio had seen the results of that terrible whip. It had broken something in Sam, the pain of that whip.
    But Edilio moved closer. The trick would be to get close enough…not too close.
    Drake still had not seen him. Edilio raised the rifle into firing position. Fifty feet. He could hit Drake from here, but there were a dozen other kids in range just beyond him. Bullets didn’t always go exactly where you aimed them. He could kill Drake. He might also kill the fleeing children.
    He had to stall until the kids got out of range.
    He lined Drake up in the sights. Aiming was hard with the weapon on automatic. The kick would be ferocious. You could aim the first shot, but after that it would be like spraying a fire hose.
    Had to get Drake to stop. Had to let the kids get away.
    “Drake,” Edilio said. But his mouth was as dry as the sand. What came out was a barely audible rasp.
    “Drake!” Edilio yelled. “Drake!”
    Drake froze. He turned, not in a hurry, slow. Languid.
    Drake smiled his feral smile. His eyes were blue and empty of anything but amusement. His dark hair was matted and filthy. His skin seemed to be smeared with mud. There was dirt in his teeth.
    “Why, Edilio,” Drake said. “Long time, wetback.”
    “Drake,” Edilio said, his voice failing him again.
    “Yes, Edilio?” Drake said with exaggerated politeness. “Something you wanted to say?”
    Edilio’s stomach heaved. Drake was dead. Dead.
    “You…you’re under arrest.”
    Drake barked a surprised laugh. “Under arrest?”
    “That’s right,” Edilio said.
    Drake took a step toward him.
    “Stop. Stop right there!” Edilio warned.
    Drake kept