Plague

seeing the sick and the dead, the wrecked church, and the sad graveyard for the first time. “No,” she said.
    “Then go, Breeze. Go.”

Chapter Thirty
3 HOURS, 50 MINUTES

    SAM HAD RUN the boat all the way up the lake and all the way back. They had found two small campgrounds in all, but had not explored them carefully. Maybe a dozen big campers, a few ragged tents in various states of collapse. No doubt some camp food, soda, beer, coffee, all the things people brought camping.
    And gas in some of those tanks. Lovely, lovely gasoline.
    He was already imagining the steps they’d have to take. They would drive the campers to the marina area and form them up in a rough circle or maybe two concentric circles. They would have to dig some serious septic tanks well away from the lake so there wasn’t any seepage into drinking water.
    They would need to ration the gas carefully, carefully, saving it for moving produce from the fields and fish from the ocean. They would still need Quinn’s steady supply of blue bats to pacify the zekes. Besides, they would need to be cautious about overfishing the lake.
    No more stupid mistakes. This time they would have to get it right.
    That was a job for Albert, Sam had to concede. No doubt Albert would get richer still, but he was the only one with the organizational skills for the job.
    Yes, it would work. They would build it and organize it and this time they would get it right.
    For his part he had to find a way to destroy the flying greenies. But surely with Jack’s strength and Dekka’s powers and maybe Brianna—who could probably run through a cloud of greenies without getting hit—they could seal up that cave and crush or burn whatever survived.
    They were heading back toward the marina now, chugging along slowly, taking their time. It was getting late in the day and Sam was trying to decide whether they should try to start one of the vehicles parked at the marina and drive back tonight, or plan a little more carefully and go in the morning.
    The last thing anyone needed was three hundred or so kids tearing off in mad search for sweets. Half would end up lost in the desert or the hills and end up being coyote food.
    The news needed to be handled the right way. Edilio and the rest of the council would have to plan a little.
    To Dekka he said, “I think maybe we should load as much water as we can carry in an SUV and drive back tonight.”
    “I guess you’ve noticed there’s no road that goes straight back.”
    “According to the map the road that follows the lake curves up around, hits the barrier. Right? But there has to then be a road that goes down through the Stefano Rey and hits the highway, right?”
    Dekka shrugged. Her mind was elsewhere.
    He couldn’t blame her. But he had convinced himself she was worrying for nothing.
    He indulged himself with a moment of fantasy. They would be heroes, showing up in town with water, even if it wasn’t that much water. That would be one very welcome sight, an SUV full of water bottles. Maybe a few jars of Nutella, too, if they drove east to the train before cutting south.
    Then, a meeting with the council. They could start trucking water right away. That would keep everybody calm until a plan was worked out.
    “We’ll go in . . .” His words died as his gaze traveled to the marina. “Dekka. Jack. Look.”
    They looked.
    Creatures, like giant silvery cockroaches, cockroaches the size of minivans, clustered on the shore. Maybe a dozen.
    It had to be an illusion. A trick. They were impossible. Like a nightmare out of some ancient science fiction movie.
    Sam reached for the binoculars he’d found in a locked case on board. He raised them, focused.
    “It’s Hunter’s bugs,” he said. He couldn’t keep the awe out of his voice. “But they’re huge.”
    He traversed his binoculars and then saw a human standing atop one of the creatures. He could not see the face well enough to identify it. But there was no mistaking the long, jauntily waving tentacle.
    Drake. No longer locked in his basement prison.
    Sam’s Garden of Eden had its own snake.
    Howard’s first impulse had been to go to the so-called hospital and find Lana. But what profit would be in it for Howard?
    Orc was off somewhere, freaking out, hammered, faced, blasted. He’d come back when he ran out of alcohol, but for now, Orc was gone, and Drake’s escape was a sort of black eye for Howard.
    In the back of his calculating mind, Howard wondered if Orc