Plague

general glee. His face was severe and sad.
    “What?” he asked wearily.
    “I know something.”
    “Well, goody for you.”
    “It’s about Albert.”
    Howard sighed. “I heard. He’s dead. Orc’s gone and Albert’s dead and these idiots are partying like it’s Mardi Gras or something.”
    “I think he might not be dead,” Leslie-Ann said.
    Howard shook his head, angry at being distracted. He walked away. But then he stopped, turned, and walked back to her. “I know you,” he said. “You clean Albert’s house.”
    “Yes. I’m Leslie-Ann.”
    “What are you telling me about Albert?”
    “I saw his eyes open. And he looked at me.”
    Albert dead.
    Sam gone, and no telling when he would get back.
    Astrid gone with Little Pete and Orc.
    Dekka away with Sam and Jack.
    And now Edilio, numb with the scale of the disaster, sat exhausted on the steps of the so-called hospital. He didn’t need Dahra’s thermometer to tell him what he already knew: he was hot, flushed, weak.
    He coughed. And stared blankly at Brianna, who buzzed and vibrated to a wild halt before him.
    “Bugs!” she yelled. “I passed them heading this way. Drake and a bunch more bugs are still back at the mine shaft. I saw them heading west but I think it’s just a fake; he’s probably coming here, too.”
    “How do we stop them?” Edilio asked and coughed into his hand.
    “We need Sam,” Brianna said.
    “We—” He coughed again and fought off a wooziness that made him desperately want to lie down. “I don’t know where he is.”
    “I’ll find him,” Brianna vowed.
    “You’re all I’ve got left,” Edilio said. “You’re the only freak with any serious powers. I don’t think the Siren would be much help against”—he coughed—“those creatures.”
    “She might work on Drake, though,” Brianna said, and laughed as if oblivious to what was going on around her. In fact, as Edilio coughed again, she blinked, frowned, and said, “Are all these kids sick?”
    “When the Siren sings, it affects everyone; she’s just a pause button.” Edilio coughed hard. It hurt his chest.
    He was sick. Sick in his body and sick in his heart.
    He had seen so many terrible things and done so many terrible things since the coming of the FAYZ. But nothing so cold-bloodedly awful as lining up the sights on Lance’s head and squeezing the trigger.
    It was the right move. Probably. It was the winning move, it seemed, since Astrid and Little Pete had both survived.
    It was the ruthless move. The lesser-of-two-evils move. It was what Sam would have done in his place.
    But it was poison in Edilio’s heart.
    “I can’t save us,” Edilio said. “Neither can you, Brianna. And Sam . . . I don’t know if he can, either. So maybe this is the end. Maybe this is it and we lose.”
    Brianna slapped herself in the chest. “I don’t lose!”
    “You can’t beat them alone, Breeze.” A coughing fit, the worst one yet. It was several minutes before he could continue. “I’m done for. I don’t know if this will kill me or not but I can’t even stand up.”
    “Hey, we can’t just give up,” Brianna said. “Those things are the size of ponies now, some of them. And they’re growing! You can’t give up, Edilio. You’re the one in charge.”
    He aimed his eyes at her, but they were swimming. She was an angry, unfocused face.
    “Get me a piece of paper and a pen,” Edilio said.
    She was back in less than a minute.
    His fingers were trembling as a fit of chills racked his body. He had a hard time steadying the pad and holding the pen. But with supreme effort he scribbled something, folded the paper, and handed it to Brianna.
    “Quinn,” he said.
    She read the message and flushed furiously. She threw the paper at him. It hit him in the face. “Are you nuts? I’m not doing this!”
    “I’m in charge,” he whispered. He bent with shaky fingers and retrieved the note. “My call. It’s the only way. Do it, Breeze: do it.”
    “No, no. No way.”
    Edilio grabbed her arm and squeezed it with the last of his strength. “For once in your life, think. Can you stop them? Can you stop those bugs from reaching town and killing everyone here? Yes or no?”
    “I can try.”
    “Yes or no?”
    She stifled a sudden sob. She shook her head. “No.”
    “Okay, then,” Edilio rasped. “Do you want to be responsible for the lives of everyone who will die just so that you can act all tough?”
    She had no answer. She glanced around as if