Plague
choose: it’s something you are.”
She took his arm and guided him out of the building, out onto the dock.
Her mood was different now. Sam was shocked by the suddenness of the change. She’d been putting on an act. But now her eyes were dull and her mouth turned down at the edges. She stood close to him, took his hand, and pressed it to her shirt over the top of her abdomen. “Feel that? That lump?”
He nodded.
“My mom had a benign cyst once, so maybe that’s all it is,” Dekka said gravely.
“You think it’s . . .”
“Maybe I just noticed it because I’m looking for it, but maybe it’s one of them,” Dekka said.
“Don’t jump to—”
“I’m not,” Dekka said. “But if that’s what it is, if it’s those things, I’m going to ask you to take care of me.”
“We’ve been over this,” Sam said, pulling his hand away.
“If I tell you it’s time, you do it, okay, Sam?”
He couldn’t answer.
“I’m not afraid to die,” Dekka said.
Sam was glad Toto wasn’t there to hear.
“And you have to promise me something,” Dekka said.
“What?”
“Don’t you ever tell Brianna what you know about how I feel. It would only bring her pain. I love her and I wouldn’t want to make her hurt.”
“Dekka . . .”
“No,” she said briskly. “Don’t argue, okay? Maybe I’m wrong and this is nothing. So let’s not argue about it.”
“Yeah,” he said. They stood awkwardly for a while, then Sam said, “I don’t want to sound weird, but you know I love you, right?”
“Love you, too, Sam.”
Sam made a move as if to hug her, but stopped himself.
She smiled. “Yeah, we’re not the huggy type, are we?”
Sam said, “Let’s go see what we can find down in the boats.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
9 HOURS, 5 MINUTES
ONE THING WAS crystal clear to Astrid as she stood in the drenching rain: the secret she had kept for so long was no longer a secret.
She looked down at the street and saw Orc there. He was staring up at her, his stone-and-flesh jaw slack.
And coming up the street behind him were four other boys. She recognized Lance and Turk. The other two she barely knew.
All four were armed. Orc didn’t need a weapon.
She scanned in every direction, frantic, looking for some source of support. Maybe Sam had come back. Maybe Brianna. Maybe Edilio and some of his soldiers.
But no, the streets were abandoned but for a sick-looking girl, crouched and weary, moving in the general direction of the plaza, stopping to cough, staggering on.
Orc had defended Astrid once before, rescuing her from Zil and his Human Crew thugs. Now four of those thugs were pointing at her, at the amazing rain cloud, then breaking into a run, all eager malicious energy.
The cloud was growing. The rain was spreading.
Orc was standing in it, an animated gravel heap under a deluge.
The others slowed and then stepped gingerly into the rain and, like Orc, tilted their heads back and drank in the wondrous fresh water.
She had a gun. Would she use it?
“It’s the ’tard,” Turk yelled. His face broke out in a grin. He was standing beneath a tree that was decorated with a yard sale’s worth of clothing and bits of broken toys. “It’s that dumb brother of hers, Petard!”
Turk circled past Orc and hopped the fence into Astrid’s yard. His friends followed warily, eyes darting from Astrid to Orc. Orc did nothing.
Then, in a sudden rush, Turk was up the stairs and standing on the platform. The others crowded beside him.
Turk laughed loudly, gleeful. “It’s the ’tard! He’s the one making it rain.”
“Orc!” Astrid cried.
“That little kid must have some mad powers,” Lance said.
“Go away,” Astrid said.
She was aware of the fact that her drenched nightgown clung far too closely to her body. The gun in her hand weighed a ton.
“Grab the kid,” Lance said. “If we have him, we control the rain, right?”
There was blood on Turk’s shirt. Too much of it.
“What have you done?” Astrid demanded.
Turk looked down at the blood. He seemed surprised by it. “Oh, that?” He laughed savagely. “That’s nothing much. Just means we run this place now, Astrid. No Sam around, huh? Where’s mister light hands?”
“Orc!” Astrid cried out. She didn’t want to reveal the depths of her fear. But she knew what Turk would do. And she did not want to use the gun. Not even now, not even for Petey.
“What other tricks can the ’tard do?” Lance demanded. “Float in the air,
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