Plague

ceiling and part of the wall that allowed sunlight to pour so directly on his face, on his blinking eyes. The wall had been partly torn down, and without support a part of the ceiling had collapsed.
    He felt something in his right hand. A hunk of wallboard.
    He had done it. He had attacked the desks and the windows and the walls.
    The memories were flashes of desaturated color and wild, jerky motion. He saw, as if standing outside himself, a drunken rock-bodied monster storming and rampaging and finally beating at the walls with great stone fists.
    Orc groaned. His head was pounding like someone was using a sledgehammer on it. He was thirsty. His stomach felt as if it had been filled with coals.
    Other memories were coming back. Drake. He had let that psycho creep get loose.
    Howard would . . . well, actually, Howard wouldn’t say much. Howard knew better than to ever really attack Orc.
    But what about Sam? And Astrid?
    Sudden fear. Astrid. Drake would go after her. Drake hated Astrid.
    He should do something. Go and . . . and find Drake. Or guard Astrid. Or something. Astrid had always been good to him. She’d always treated him nice, like he wasn’t a monster. Even back in school.
    Suddenly Orc recognized the room. It was the room they used for after-school detention. Astrid would sometimes come tutor him there.
    Truth was, he had always liked it better in detention than at home.
    Orc squeezed his eyes shut. He needed a bottle. Too many things coming into his head. Too many pictures and feelings.
    He noticed an awful smell and knew right away what had caused it. When he had passed out his muscles had all gone slack. He’d wet himself and worse.
    He was lying in a puddle of urine and feces.
    With a sob he rolled over onto hands and knees. The fatguy sweatpants he wore were stained and reeking.
    Now he would have to walk down to the beach to clean off. He’d have to walk down there like this, like this depraved, disgusting, drunken, stinking monster.
    Which was what he was. What he’d always been.
    And then, one more memory. A sick little boy. A stop sign.
    God, no. God . . . no.
    Orc stumbled from the room, sick and weeping and hating himself so much more than anyone else could ever hate him.
    Drake became conscious and was likewise confused about where he was and why.
    His hands were tied behind his back and the wire cut uncomfortably into the pulpy flesh of his whip hand.
    “Untie me,” he snapped at Jamal, who was dozing with his back against a palm tree, rifle cuddled to his chest like a stuffed animal. Jamal looked about six years old when he was asleep.
    Drake noticed a rope tied from his ankle to Jamal’s ankle. He yanked on it and Jamal snapped awake.
    “Untie me,” Drake repeated.
    Jamal crawled over and fiddled with the knot until Drake was free.
    “Where are we?” Drake asked.
    “Down the highway. You know, up past Ralph’s?”
    “What are we doing here?”
    “I had to get Brittney out of town,” Jamal said. “I barely got you out of the church before Edilio came.”
    Drake remembered the fight with Brianna. It brought a savage grin. “Did you finish that skinny little witch?”
    Jamal shrugged. “I shot her.”
    “Did you finish her?”
    “No, man, I don’t think so.”
    Drake stared hard at him. “I told you to do her.”
    “Did you?” Jamal licked his lips. “I saw you saying something, but you were, you know, changing and all. It was hard to understand.”
    Drake knew he was lying. Jamal had disobeyed him. But did he really want a Jamal tough enough to shoot a helpless person in the face?
    No, he needed Jamal to be a little weak. Just a little. Still . . .
    Drake snapped his whip and caught Jamal across the back.
    Jamal cried out and backpedaled away.
    “Don’t disobey me,” Drake said. Then he smiled in what he hoped was a friendly way. “I didn’t cut too deep. Just a little reminder for you.”
    “It burns like fire!”
    “Yeah, well, man up, Jamal. And get me some water. I’m thirsty.”
    “Don’t have any water.”
    “Well get some!”
    “Where?”
    Drake jumped up and looked around. They were near where the road came down from Coates and met the highway. He tried to think if there was anything left at the old school. Had to be some kind of water up there.
    Or he could head back into town. Of course they’d be ready for him now. And by the time he got there he might be Brittney Pig again.
    Drake felt a surge of frustration. If it was just him, he’d go