Plague

straight into town and take out anyone who got in his way. He might not be able to take Orc down, but he could wear the stupid, fat drunk out. And Brianna? Bring it on.
    With Sam and Caine both away there was no one who could take him on in a fight. But if Brianna was backed by a few of Edilio’s guys with rifles, well, they might be able to get Jamal, and if they got Jamal, they could grab him when the Brittney Pig emerged. Lock him up again. And this time when Sam came back Sam would finish the job.
    It had been supernaturally cool putting himself back together after being sliced in three pieces. But he wasn’t sure that would happen if Sam incinerated him, burned him to ashes.
    Threw the ashes in the ocean.
    That image made Drake very nervous.
    He had to find a way to rid himself of the Brittney Pig. Otherwise he’d be dependent on Jamal. But how was he supposed to do that? It was hopeless. For a moment Drake felt despair. He would be trapped like this forever.
    But then, faint hope. Maybe there was someone who could help. He felt its touch on his mind. It had never forgotten him.
    “Get up. We’re going,” Drake said.
    “Where to?” Jamal asked.
    “Going to see . . .” He’d been about to say, “a friend.” But friend wasn’t the right term. Not a friend. Much more.
    “My master,” Drake said, self-conscious about the word. But when Jamal didn’t laugh, Drake repeated it, more confidently. It felt good. “Going to see my master.”
    Sanjit found flowers easily enough. A lot had been picked for eating, but there were still untended gardens behind abandoned houses where it was possible to pick a small rose or a marigold or whatever. He didn’t really know what flowers they were. Some were probably just weeds.
    When he had a half dozen he stopped to check in on Bowie, who was being watched by Virtue. Bowie was better today. Maybe a permanent improvement, maybe not. Sanjit never counted his chickens before they’d hatched.
    Virtue stared at him and at his flowers. He stared like Sanjit had lost his mind.
    “What are those?”
    “These?” Sanjit looked in mock surprise at the bouquet. “I think these may be flowers.”
    “I know they’re flowers,” Virtue said. “Why are you carrying flowers?”
    “I’m bringing them to someone.”
    “That girl?”
    “Yes, Choo. They are for that girl.”
    “You should stay away from her. She’s a very scary girl.”
    “Hot, though, don’t you think?”
    Virtue stared at him. “Don’t you know there’s a quarantine? Where have you been? No one is supposed to go out.”
    “A what?”
    “A quarantine. That flu going around. Everyone is supposed to stay inside.”
    “I’ve had flu before, big deal,” Sanjit said dismissively.
    “Look, if they put on a quarantine they have good reasons. You don’t know these people, I think most of them are crazy. You don’t know what they might do if they catch you out.”
    “I’ll be back,” Sanjit said with a jaunty wink. “Unless I get really lucky.”
    “Or she shoots you with that big gun of hers.”
    “That’s also a possibility,” Sanjit said cheerfully.
    He patted Bowie on the head and checked on the others. Then he headed out into the sunlight.
    The streets of Perdido Beach had never exactly been busy. It wasn’t New York or Bangkok. But they were particularly quiet now. Not a soul in sight.
    Maybe Virtue was telling the truth about a quarantine after all. But hey, who better to be with than Lana, the Healer?
    He reached Clifftop without seeing anyone.
    He pushed through the lobby doors. He knew that Lana had the best room on the highest floor, a room with a balcony that looked down at the cliff and the beach and out at the ocean.
    He was confronted with a confusing hallway full of doors, some closed, many showing signs of having been kicked open or battered down so kids could raid the minibars.
    He found what he thought was the right door. He straightened his clothes and his flowers and knocked. From inside Patrick erupted in loud barking.
    He saw the peephole go dark as someone looked out.
    He smiled and waved.
    Soft cursing from inside. Then, “It’s okay, Patrick, it’s just some idiot.”
    The door opened. Lana had a cigarette hanging from the corner of her mouth. She had her pistol in her hand.
    “What?” she snapped at Sanjit.
    “Flowers,” Sanjit said, and held them out to her.
    Lana stared at the flowers. “Are you kidding me?”
    “I would have brought candy, but I