Hunger

by Michael Grant

  “Yeah?” Edilio prompted.

  “The power plant is at the center of the FAYZ,” Astrid said. “We know it was going into meltdown when Little Pete reacted by creating this…this bubble. But why were things changing even before that? How did Little Pete acquire that kind of power?”

  “The accident thirteen years ago,” Sam said, realizing it even as he said it.

  “The accident. We’ve always said it was a meteorite that hit the plant. But maybe it wasn’t just a meteorite. Maybe there was more to it.”

  “Like what?”

  “Some people theorize that life on Earth grew from a simple organism that reached this planet by comet or meteorite. So, let’s say something as simple as a virus was alive on the object that hit the power plant. Virus plus radiation equals mutation.”

  “So that’s what this gaiaphage is?” Sam asked.

  “Please don’t act like I just told you the answer, okay?” Astrid said. “Because I’m totally off in guesswork. And it doesn’t really explain much, even if it’s true. Big ‘if.’ Really big ‘if.’”

  “But?” Sam prompted.

  “But maybe this thing that’s been living under the ground for thirteen years has been living on radiation. Feeding on it. Think about a virus that could survive thousands of years in the environment of space. The only possible food source would be hard radiation.”

  The next part was hard for Astrid. Sam could see the way her lip quivered. “The power company lied: they never cleaned up all the radiation from the accident. It’s been under our feet all this time, seeping into the water, being absorbed into the food we eat.”

  Astrid’s father had been an engineer at the power plant. She must be wondering whether he had known of the deception.

  “They may not even have known they didn’t get it all,” Sam said. “The people who worked there—they probably didn’t know.”

  Astrid nodded. The quiver stopped. The tight anger in her expression remained. “As the gaiaphage mutated, so did some of us. Maybe some kind of synthesis. I don’t know. But one safe guess is that the gaiaphage began to run out of food. It needs more. It can’t get to it, it can only attempt to make others do its will. I think—I believe—that the meltdown Little Pete stopped was caused by someone at the plant. Obeying the gaiaphage. Attempting to blow up the plant, which would spread radiation everywhere, kill everything nearby…except for the creature that lives on radiation.”

  “Little Pete stopped the meltdown. Created the FAYZ. But he did not destroy the gaiaphage. And the gaiaphage is still hungry.”

  “Hungry in the dark,” Little Pete said.

  “Caine’s going to feed it,” Sam said.

  “Yes.”

  “And then?”

  “And then, the gaiaphage will survive and adapt. It can’t go on living in a hole in the ground, relying on others. It needs to be able to escape. To move freely. And to survive attacks from us.”

  “Maybe it’s good if it comes out to fight,” Edilio said. “Maybe we can kill it.”

  “It knows what powers we have,” Astrid said. “And it has had some help imagining ways to build a body that would be invulnerable.”

  “Help? Help from who?”

  Sam put his hand on Edilio’s arm, calming him. “From someone who doesn’t know what he’s doing,” he said.

  “Nestor,” Little Pete said.

  “Try some, dude. What are you, three years old?” Antoine tried to pass the joint to Zil. Zil waved it off.

  “I’ve tried it before,” Zil said. “I didn’t like it.”

  “Yeah, right.” Antoine took a long pull off the joint and began coughing like he was hacking up a lung. He coughed so violently, his knee hit the coffee table and knocked over Zil’s water.

  “Hey,” Zil yelled.

  “Oh, sorry, man,” Antoine said when he could speak again.

  Lance took a hit, made a face, and handed it off to Lisa. She giggled, smoked, coughed, then giggled some more.

  Zil had never had a girlfriend before. Girls didn’t like him. Not like, like. He had never been one of the popular kids.

  In the old days Zil was mostly known for the strange lunches his mother packed for him. They were always vegan, organic, and always very “green,” with nothing disposable, nothing prepackaged. Unfortunately much of what his mother packed for his lunch smelled. Vinegar dressing for salads, tapenade or hummus reeking of garlic, stuffed grape leaves.

  Zil loved his mom and dad, but the coming of the FAYZ had been liberating in one way: he’d finally been able to eat all the cookies and chips he’d wanted. He’d even done what his parents would have considered unforgivable: he had eaten meat. And he’d liked it.

  Of course now he would give anything to have a gooey wad of hummus and some whole wheat pita bread.

  He had no food. What he had were stomach pains. And his crew. His posse. The Human Crew. All of whom, he realized, were losers. Except for Lance. Lance being there kind of made them look cooler than they were. He even managed to look cool by the flickering candlelight.

  “The freaks have food,” Turk said for the thousandth time. “They always have food. Regular kids are going hungry, but the freaks always have enough.”

  Zil doubted that, but there was no point arguing about it. It wasn’t some crazy story about the freaks having food that made him hate them. It was their superior attitude. But whatever.

  “I heard Brianna caught some pigeons and ate them,” Lisa said, then giggled. Zil wasn’t sure if she always giggled, or was mostly giggling because she was high.

  She was drawing on a pad, perching a small flashlight on her lap and using a Sharpie to do variations on the letters “H” and “C” for Human Crew. She had a version that Zil kind of liked where the “H” and the “C” were sort of joined, slanted to one side, all hard edges.

  Antoine had found the weed in his parents’ bedroom. While conducting yet another desperate search for food.

  “That’s what I’m saying,” Turk said, pointing at Lisa like she was evidence. “They have their ways of getting food. The freaks all work together.” Turk was not smoking. He was staring at Zil. Like Zil might have some solution. Like Zil was going to have some kind of plan.

  Zil didn’t have a plan. Zil just knew that freaks were running things in the FAYZ. And not just in Perdido Beach, but up the hill at Coates, too. And now at the power plant. Freaks running everything. Well, freaks and their helpers, like Edilio and Albert and Astrid.

  And the other thing Zil knew was that things were a mess. People were starving. And if the freaks were in charge, who else’s fault could it be?

  “They have food, I guarantee you,” Turk said.

  “Yeah, well, we have tree,” Antoine said, and laughed at his own wit.

  The front door opened and Zil reached for his baseball bat, just in case. It was Hank. Hank came in, stepped right up to Antoine, who was easily twice his size, and said, “Put that away.”

  “What are you, the po-po?”

  “This is not about getting stoned,” Hank said. “That’s not what Zil is about. That’s not what the Human Crew is.”

  Antoine looked blearily at Zil. Zil was surprised at hearing himself referred to as if he had some larger meaning. It was flattering. Also confusing.

  “Yeah, put away the weed, man,” Zil said.

  Antoine made a dismissive noise.

  To everyone’s amazement, Hank knocked the joint from Antoine’s hand.

  Antoine rose from the couch, looking like he might flatten little Hank. But Zil said, “No. No fighting between ourselves.”

  Lance said, “Yeah. That’s right,” but he didn’t sound too sure.

  It was left to Turk to settle the matter. “Hank’s right. Zil’s not about us acting like everyone else, like kids. Zil’s about us dealing with the freaks. If we sit around getting high, Zil’s not going to be able to deal with the problem. He needs us to be cool.”

  “Yeah,” Lance agreed. “But be cool about w
hat?”

  “I found Hunter.” Hank delivered the news with quiet pride. Like he was presenting a straight-A report card to his parents.

  Zil jumped to his feet. “You found him?”

  “Yeah. He’s across the highway, hiding out in a house over there. And you’ll never guess what he’s got there.”

  “What?”

  “Food. The mutant freak killed a deer. Then he cooked it with his freak powers and last I saw he was cutting it up with a knife.”

  “Keeping it all for himself,” Turk said. “Just him and the other freaks. They’ll eat venison, the rest of us can go boil some grass or whatever.”

  Zil’s mouth watered. Meat. Actual meat. And not rat or pigeon, but something that was almost like beef.

  “I’ve eaten venison,” Lance said. “It’s good.”

  “Has to be better than dog,” Antoine said. “Although I’d eat some more dog right now, if I had any.”

  “What do we do?” Lance asked Zil.

  Every eye, even Lisa’s, turned to Zil. “What do you think we do?” Zil asked rhetorically, stalling for time.

  “We go get him!” Antoine said.

  Zil slapped Antoine on the shoulder and laughed. “Yeah.” Then he high-fived Hank. “Good work, man. Venison is on the menu.”

  “Right after we hang Hunter,” Hank said.

  That stopped the conversation cold.

  “Say what?” Lance asked.

  Hank looked coldly at Lance. “You think the freak is just going to give us the food? He’ll kill us, if he gets the chance. Freaks don’t care about us, don’t care if we starve. Anyway, he’s a murderer, right? What are you supposed to do with a murdering freak?”

  Zil swallowed hard. Hank was pushing this thing too far. It was one thing busting on Sam, trying to get some respect for normals.

  To Zil’s relief, Lance spoke up. “Dude, I don’t think we want to, like, kill the guy ourselves.”

  “It was Zil’s idea,” Hank said. “That first night. Why did we have a rope with us if we weren’t going to execute justice on Hunter?”

  The rope had not been Zil’s idea. But should he admit that? He’d just figured on giving Hunter a beating. He wanted Hunter to cry and confess that he’d stolen that last shred of beef jerky. He hadn’t been thinking about actually killing Hunter. That was just talk.

  “You think Sam and Edilio and all of them are going to let us just execute Hunter?” Lance argued.

  Hank smiled. It was a strange, little-boy smile. Innocent. “They’re all gone. Dekka’s at the power plant, right? And Sam and Edilio just blew out of town in that Jeep. The whole bunch of them, off trying to deal with Caine, I guess.”

  Zil’s heart was pounding. His mouth was dry. They weren’t really going to do this, were they?

  But Hunter had meat. And how else were they going to get the food from Hunter?

  Turk said, “We can’t just take out Hunter.”

  “Right,” Zil blurted.

  “We have to give him a trial first,” Turk said.

  And Zil found himself nodding. And he found himself grinning, like that had been his idea all along. And maybe it had been. Maybe it was what he had known in his heart had to happen.

  Yes, Zil told himself. You’re soft-hearted, but you know it’s what’s got to be, Zil. You know it’s what has got to be.

  Every face was turned toward him expectantly. Lisa, not so bad looking, really. Not when she smiled at him like he was some kind of rock star.

  “We’ll have a trial. Because the Human Crew is not just about doing random violence,” Zil said, sounding as though he believed it. Setting aside the fact that random violence, smashing windows and such, was all they’d done so far. “This has got to be about justice. Otherwise the other normals, our people, will be weird about it. So, we have to have a trial. Then we deal with Hunter. Give him justice. And we share some of the deer meat around, right?”

  “Yeah,” Lance agreed.

  “Bring kids over to our side,” Zil said. “It’ll be like, hey, Zil gave us justice and food.”

  “It will be the truth,” Turk said.

  THIRTY-SIX

  01 HOUR, 8 MINUTES

  DRAKE CREPT TO the hole in the exterior wall. The rim of the hole was still a little warm to the touch. He kept his face in the shadows, looked left, looked right.

  Caine wanted a diversion? Fine, he’d get a diversion.

  Drake saw Dekka in a lawn chair, head down, maybe dozing. He saw a tarp covering what could only be bodies. He saw two kids playing thumb war. Their guns were leaned against a car. He did not see Sam or his shadow, Edilio. He didn’t see Brianna.

  The sun was dropping out over the water. Night would fall soon. Caine had warned him to do nothing before Jack turned off the reactor.

  “You’ll see the lights in the parking lot go out,” Jack had said in his usual know-it-all voice. “And you’ll hear the turbines suddenly slow down.”

  Sam had to be out there somewhere, just beyond the narrow slice of parking lot that Drake could see. Had to be. Sam wouldn’t have left Dekka all alone with nothing but a couple of idiot sixth graders.

  Drake wanted to be the one to take Sam down. If he took Sam down, then no one would ever be able to argue with his claim to be the boss. When the big dogs fight it out, it’s the winner who rules. Caine had missed his shot at Sam. Drake wouldn’t miss his.

  But no matter how long he looked, he saw no evidence of Sam or anyone else worth worrying about.

  Just as he was turning away Orc stomped heavily into view. He headed toward the edge of the parking lot, toward some high grass.

  Drake laughed silently. The monstrosity had to take a pee.

  Okay, so it was Orc and Dekka and a couple kids with rifles. It would be foolish to take any of them lightly. Drake had fought Orc once before and not entirely won the battle. Of course he hadn’t been cradling a machine gun then.

  Drake rested his left hand on the rim of the hole. Hot but not too hot. He formed his hand into a bridge, then laid the barrel of the gun on his hand. He squatted to get into position. He laid his cheek against the cool plastic stock, closed his left eye, and lined up the rear and forward sights. He wrapped the tip of his tentacle around the trigger.

  He shifted the sights left an inch. Another inch. And now they were lined up on Dekka.

  Not yet. Wait until Jack had turned off the reactor. Then wait ten minutes more.

  But it had better be soon. The sun was casting long purple shadows and if the parking lights went out, Drake wouldn’t have much ability to aim.

  Dekka dozing. Looked like she was drooling.

  A short burst. That’s what he would do. Squeeze off a short burst and watch as the little red flowers blossomed all over Dekka’s—

  “Ahhh!” Howard yelled.

  Drake jerked back. So did Howard.

  Howard was right in front of him, right at the hole, peering in like some kind of tourist.

  Their eyes met.

  Drake yanked the gun to the left and fired. The gun bucked in his hands. But Howard had flattened himself against the wall.

  Dekka jerked awake.

  Drake cursed and aimed the gun at her.

  He squeezed the trigger. But Dekka was ten feet in the air and rising swiftly. The lawn chair twirled upward with her.

  Drake aimed. Like shooting at skeet, he thought. Lead the target just a little and—

  Belatedly Dekka stretched her hands out toward Drake. A suddenly weightless gun barrel rose too much. The burst tore the air over Dekka’s head and she fell as her own personal gravity returned.

  She slammed into the concrete. The chair landed on her. She didn’t move.

  Then slowly, slowly, she raised her head.

  Drake took his time. He looked at her. Saw that she was looking at him. Saw that she knew he had won. Saw the fear and resignation in her dark eyes.

  “Scratch one freak,” Drake whispered, and slowly squeezed the trigger.

  “W
e’ve got to sneak up on him,” Hank said. “Get him before he can do anything.”

  Zil was not happy about Hank giving the orders. Not happy at all. “The important thing is to knock him out fast before he can fry one of us. Then we tie him up and use the tinfoil.”

  “He’ll bake his own hands,” Turk said with grim contentment. “Like a turkey.”

  They made their way on foot, not wanting to be heard driving up. They raced across the highway, like they were being watched. Although they had no idea who might be doing that. It was fun. Like playing soldier when you were a little kid.

  There was no sign of Edilio’s soldiers. Or of any of Sam’s posse.

  They could smell the deer as soon as they crossed the road. It was amazing, Zil reflected, how well your sense of smell worked when you were really, really hungry.

  Zil motioned Hank and Turk and Lisa to stay put, hide behind the garage. He and Lance crept forward, edged around the side of the garage, crouched to peer through the slats of the fence.

  Hunter was wielding a big butcher knife. He was trying, very inexpertly, to slice off the deer’s hide. He was making a mess of it. Portions of the animal were cooked almost black. Other parts were bloody. Hunter stopped and hacked out a chunk of meat and stuck it in his greedy mouth.

  Zil’s own mouth watered, almost uncontrollably. His stomach hurt.

  Zil and Lance crept back to the others.

  “Greedy chud is eating it all up,” Zil reported. “I swear, he’s going to eat the whole thing himself.”

  “Yeah,” Lance agreed.

  “Okay, here’s what we do,” Zil said, laying out his plan.

  Turk, Hank, Lisa, and Zil took the long way around the house to come up from the other side. Lance had been given a crucial role to play because Hunter didn’t know him and had no reason to fear him.

  When all was in readiness, Lance stood up behind the fence. “Hey, dude.”

  Hunter spun, guilty and scared. “What are you doing sneaking up on me? Who are you?”

  “Dude, chill. I just smelled the meat. I’m hungry.”

  Hunter looked deeply suspicious. “I was going to sell it to Albert. Everyone can have some. I just fell asleep, is all, after I got some food. But I was getting it ready now.”