Plague

she yelled to the guard. “Ruuun!”
    The smell of gasoline was overpowering. It flowed in dark little streams across the parking area, filling seams in the concrete, forming shallow pools in low spots.
    Caine raced past, feet splashing through the gasoline.
    Brianna smiled.
    The leading wave of the creatures hit the gas station, needle-sharp legs stabbing at tiny rivers of unleaded gas.
    The fumes filled the air.
    Brianna knew something about speed. She knew that the Hollywood thing where people outrun explosions was nonsense. Not even the Breeze could outrun a fireball.
    But there was standing around in the middle of a fire, and then there was blowing through it at the speed of sound. There wouldn’t be an explosion, not right away.
    It should work. Especially with a little cover.
    She hid behind a pump and let the first creature draw level. She wheeled, flicked the lighter, and dodged in front of the bug as it ran by.
    Whooooosh!
    It wasn’t a dynamite explosion. But it was definitely a fire-ball.
    A wave of heat singed her hair and eyebrows. A blast wave of pressure that popped Brianna’s ears. But the bug’s bulk had shielded her from the worst of it.
    The leading creature reached Caine, but he had thrown himself into the air and the fireball, the creature, and Brianna all rocketed past beneath him.
    As he fell he flipped the bug over.
    Three of the creatures were caught in the fireball. Fire curled their antennae and cracked their brittle shells.
    Two of the creatures were far enough back to dodge around the fire but the heat and the smoke had confused them. They moved away but not fast enough.
    The fire crept down the pump hose, down to meet the heavy gas vapor in the massive underground tank.
    Ka-BOOOM!
    Pumps, concrete, shelter, mini-mart, and the creatures exploded in a fireball that made the first blast look like a damp firecracker.
    Insect parts, twisted metal, and chunks of concrete rained down.
    Only the lead bug was still alive. It lay on its back, kicking in the air.
    Brianna sank her knife into its chin, inserted her shotgun, and said, “When you get to hell tell the gaiaphage the Breeze says, ‘Hi!’” She pumped two rounds into the creature and its head blew apart like a smashed watermelon.

Chapter Forty-One
13 MINUTES

    ORC SMASHED HIS bottle against the blue-eyed bug’s head. It did nothing. He hadn’t thought it would.
    The creature swung its mandibles in a wide sweep and caught Orc in the chest. Orc went flying, facedown on the gravel.
    He was winded. Not dead, though.
    He got slowly to his feet. Why hurry?
    “You want me, come get me,” Orc said.
    Three of the monsters motored straight for him. Orc threw a wild punch, caught nothing but air, and was face-down again. This time three ropelike tongues had attached to him and he could no longer stand.
    Astrid screamed.
    “Whatever,” he said, as flashing mouthparts closed in on him.
    • • •
    Jack had run and bounded along through the night. His goal was Perdido Beach. But his mission, while clear, was not sitting well with him.
    How could Sam have told him to throw Little Pete to the creatures? It was crazy, wasn’t it? Crazy? Anyway, it had to be wrong, right?
    He raced up hills and down. He was not quite tireless, but he was very strong and reveled in that strength now for the first time. Jack felt as if he’d been living behind a curtain, not really seeing what was happening around him.
    That had started to change when he found the laptops on the train. Touching live keys again, seeing a monitor glow . . . Even though he hadn’t had time to do much about it, it was like magic, like the magic touch.
    And then, a very different feeling when he had fought. He had used his enormous strength and he had saved Sam’s life and Dekka’s and Toto’s. Him! Of all people: Computer Jack.
    He was a hero.
    He still didn’t look like one—he was no taller or more muscular than before, he had not turned into some muscle-bound wrestler type. He was still doughy, nearsighted Jack. But the strength no longer seemed completely irrelevant to him.
    He could be Computer Jack. But he could be more, too.
    And yet, what Sam wanted him to do was to kill Little Pete? Could that possibly be right?
    He had run toward town or what he thought was toward town. From the top of a hill he had sighted the sparkly water in the distance and figured that town had to be, oh, around there somewhere.
    But he finally realized he had become hopelessly lost. He