Hunger_A Gone Novel

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Hunger_A Gone Novel Page 39

by Michael Grant


  finding the biggest knife in the kitchen.

  Orsay Pettijohn was no longer hungry for dreams. She was

  hungry for food.

  Since coming to Coates she had eaten barely enough to

  stay alive. The situation was desperate. Kids were going into

  the surrounding woods looking for mushrooms, chasing

  squirrels and birds. One boy had made a trap and managed

  to catch a raccoon. The raccoon had bitten the boy repeatedly

  before being beaten to death with a piece of rebar.

  A girl named Allison had collected a bowl full of mushrooms. She had reasoned that cooking them would make them safe. She microwaved them till they were rubbery but

  fragrant.

  Orsay had smelled them cooking and had been driven

  nearly crazy by the smell. One of the boys had attacked

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  Allison, beaten, her and stolen the mushrooms as Allison

  wept and cursed.

  Within a few minutes the boy was vomiting. Then he

  began raving, crying, shouting at things that weren’t there.

  He’d fallen silent after a while. No one had entered his room

  since to see if he was dead or alive.

  Some kids had gathered grass and weeds and boiled them.

  They had not gotten very sick, just a little. But they hadn’t

  really gotten full, either.

  Kids were thin. Their cheeks were hollow. They didn’t look

  like starvation victims yet, because the serious hunger was

  only a few days old. But soon, Orsay knew, bellies would bloat

  and hair would turn red and crisp, and deadly resigned lethargy would set in. She had done a report once on famine, never imagining it would be something she would experience.

  More and more kids made dark jokes about cannibalism.

  Orsay was less and less sure she wouldn’t go along.

  Unless, of course, she herself was the meal.

  She was lying in her bungalow, in the woods, out behind

  the school, watching an old download of a show that seemed

  to be from another planet. The download came with a commercial for Doritos. The characters ate food all the time. It was impossible to believe that world had ever been real.

  Suddenly, Orsay was aware of another person in the room.

  She didn’t see him or hear him. She smelled him.

  He smelled like . . . like fish. Her stomach rumbled and her

  mouth watered.

  “Who’s there?” she demanded, frightened.

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  Bug appeared slowly. He emerged from the background of

  Mose’s shabby room.

  “What do you want?” Orsay demanded, not really afraid

  of Bug now that she knew it was him. The smell, the fat, luscious aroma of fish, had her slavering like a hungry dog.

  “I need you to do something,” Bug said.

  “Did Caine send you?”

  Bug hesitated. He glanced aside and for a few seconds

  faded into the background again. Then he reappeared. His

  face was twisted into a very un-Bug-like expression of determination. He glanced warily over his shoulder as if fearing that some second version of himself was lurking, listening.

  “They have fish.”

  “I can smell it,” Orsay whimpered.

  “I brought some for you,” Bug said.

  Orsay felt like she might faint. “Can I have it?”

  “First you have to promise you’ll do what I say.”

  Orsay knew Bug was a little creep. Who knew what he

  would want her to do? But she also knew she wasn’t going to

  resist. There was just about nothing she wouldn’t do for food.

  Fish would be much, much better than the other type of meat

  kids were considering.

  “What do I have to do?” Orsay asked.

  “We have to take a walk. Then you have to do your thing.

  There’s some, like, creature or whatever. They want you to

  watch its dreams. See what it wants.”

  “The fish,” Orsay whispered urgently. “Do you have it with

  you?”

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  5

  Bug drew a Ziploc bag out of the pocket of his hoodie.

  Inside was white, crumbly, smashed-up fish. Orsay lunged for

  it, tore the packet open with trembling fingers, and ate it like

  an animal, sticking her mouth into the bag.

  She didn’t stop until she had turned the bag inside out

  and licked the plastic clean. “Do you have any more?” she

  begged.

  “First, you do your thing. Then we go back to town and

  talk.”

  “We’re doing this for the Perdido Beach kids?” Orsay

  asked.

  Bug snorted. “We’re doing this for whoever gives us the

  best offer. Right now, Sam’s guys have some fish. So we’re

  with them. But if Drake gets hold of us, somehow, we’ve been

  on his side all along. Right?”

  “I’m too weak to walk a long way,” Orsay said.

  “We only have to get as far as the highway. A guy will be

  there with a car.”

  THIRTY-FOUR

  06 HOURS, 3 MINUTES

  E D I L I O D R O V E T H E creepy little mutant, Bug, and the girl

  he’d brought along with him. He wasn’t happy about having

  to do this. Mostly he wanted to stay in town. Nightfall could

  bring trouble. And Sam . . . well, Sam wasn’t acting like Sam.

  Sam had looked like a zombie listening to Quinn and

  Albert’s confession last night.

  And then, this morning, Bug told his story. It was every

  kind of bad news rolled into one shamefaced confession after

  another, and Sam had just stared. Fortunately Astrid had

  stepped up.

  Sam, Edilio, Brianna, Taylor, Quinn, Albert, Astrid—the

  seven of them in Astrid’s living room, listening as Bug alternately groveled and whined.

  Then, Astrid read Lana’s letter.

  Sam:

  I’m going to try to kill the Darkness. I’d explain what

  that means, but I don’t even know. I only know that it’s

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  7

  the scariest thing you can imagine. I guess that’s not too

  helpful.

  I had no choice. It had its hooks in me, Sam. It was

  in my head. It’s been calling to me for days. It needs me

  for something, I don’t know what. But whatever it is, I

  can’t let it happen.

  Hopefully I’ll be fine. If not, take care of Patrick.

  Cookie, too.

  —Lana

  “I knew she was having some problems,” Quinn said,

  sounding guilty. “I didn’t know about this, though. I mean . . .

  it’s like Lana used me and Albert so she could get back out to

  the desert.”

  “That would be putting a convenient spin on your own

  sneakiness, Quinn,” Astrid had snapped.

  “She brought up the gold to me,” Albert said thoughtfully,

  not at all intimidated by Astrid’s anger. “It was a good suggestion. So I jumped at it. But it came from her, originally.

  Maybe what we need to think about is whether Lana is working with this creature.”

  “No,” Quinn said.

  Everyone waited for him to explain. He shrugged and

  repeated, “No.” And then he added, “I don’t think so.”

  “We need Lana,” Sam said, finally breaking his gloomy

  silence. “It almost doesn’t matter i
f she’s helping this thing.

  Friend or enemy, we need Lana.”

  “Agreed,” Albert said, as though the conversation were

  one between him and Sam, like it was just the two of them

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  debating what to do. For a guy who had been caught breaking

  various rules, Albert didn’t seem too worried.

  But then he wouldn’t, would he? Edilio reflected. He had

  food. Food was power now. Even Astrid wasn’t really going

  after Albert, although she obviously didn’t like him much.

  “We need to know what this creature is,” Albert said.

  Sam looked at Bug, who had been ordered to remain visible. “What’s this Orsay girl’s thing?”

  Bug shrugged. “She sees people’s dreams, I think.”

  “And Caine wants her to spy on the creature.” Almost

  despite himself Sam was becoming more engaged. Edilio had

  seen the wheels begin to turn again in his friend’s head. It

  was a huge relief. “If Caine wants it, maybe we want it, too,”

  Sam had said, and one by one the others nodded agreement.

  “Albert’s right: we need to know what we’re dealing with.”

  Which was how Edilio had ended up playing chauffeur to

  Bug and this strange girl.

  “What’d you say your name was?” Edilio asked, making

  eye contact with her in the rearview mirror.

  “Orsay.”

  She probably wasn’t bad looking, under normal circumstances. But right now she looked terrified. And gaunt. Her hair was all over the place. And although Edilio wasn’t one to

  complain, one or both of them back there smelled, and not

  just like Quinn and Albert’s fish.

  “Where you from, Orsay?”

  “I lived at the ranger camp. In the Stefano Rey.”

  “Huh. That’s kind of cool.”

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  9

  She didn’t look as if she agreed. Then she said, “You have

  a gun.”

  Edilio glanced at the machine pistol on the seat beside

  him. Two full clips rattled with each bump. “Yeah.”

  “If we see Drake, you have to shoot him.”

  Edilio pretty much agreed. But he had to ask, anyway.

  “Why?”

  “I’ve seen his dreams,” Orsay said. “I’ve seen inside him.”

  They were off-road, heading vaguely toward the hills.

  They had found Hermit Jim’s shack—Edilio had a good sense

  of direction—but none of them had ever been to this mine

  shaft. All they had were the directions Caine had given Bug.

  The sun was setting behind the hills, turning them an ominous dark purple. Night would come too soon. No way Orsay could do whatever it was she was supposed to do in time for

  them to get back to town before full night fell.

  “What exactly are you supposed to be doing?” Edilio

  asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, you’re a freak, right? Bug wasn’t too clear.”

  Bug looked up at the sound of his nickname. Then, as if in

  response, he faded from view.

  “I can see dreams. I told you,” Orsay said, and looked out

  of the window.

  “Yeah? You wouldn’t want to see my dreams. They’re kind

  of boring.”

  “I know,” the girl said.

  That got Edilio’s full attention. “Say what?”

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  “Long time back. You and Sam and Quinn and a girl

  named Astrid. And the other one. I saw you hiking through

  the woods.”

  “You were there, huh?” Edilio said. He pursed his lips,

  not at all happy with the idea that some girl could see his

  dreams. He’d said his dreams were boring. Mostly they were.

  But sometimes, well, sometimes they weren’t something he

  wanted a stranger sitting in on. Especially a girl.

  He squirmed in his seat.

  “Don’t worry,” Orsay said with a trace of a smile. “I’m used

  to . . . you know. Whatever.”

  “Uh-huh,” Edilio muttered.

  The Jeep bounced and rattled as they went though a rocky

  patch. They had the top up and buttoned tight. It was dusty

  and Edilio didn’t trust Bug not to drop off and simply disappear.

  Then, too, there were the coyotes. Edilio kept an eye out

  for them.

  They were closing in on the hills. There was the fold

  formed by a spur, just like Caine had shown on the map he’d

  drawn for Bug.

  There was a bad look about the place. The shadows seemed

  deeper than they should be for the middle of the day.

  “I’m not crazy about this,” he said to no one.

  “Do you have family?” Orsay asked.

  The question surprised Edilio. People tended to avoid

  talking about family. No one knew what had happened to the

  families. “Sure.”

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  1

  “When I’m scared I try to think about my dad,” Orsay

  said.

  “Not me,” Bug said.

  “Not your mom?” Edilio asked.

  “No.”

  “Because me, I think about my mom. In my mind, you

  know, she’s like beautiful. I mean, I don’t know if she was . . .

  is . . . in reality? Right? But in here,” Edilio tapped his head.

  “In here she’s beautiful.” He tapped his chest. “In here, too.”

  They rounded the end of the rocky spur and there, in pitiless sunlight, a ghost town lay revealed.

  Edilio put on the brakes.

  “That look like what Caine told you?” he asked Bug.

  Bug nodded.

  “Okay.”

  “Caine said go through the town. Past a building that’s

  still standing. Up a path. Mine shaft.”

  “Uh-huh,” Edilio said. He knew what he was supposed to

  do. But he didn’t like it. Not at all. Less, now that he was here.

  He was not a superstitious person, at least he didn’t think so,

  but there was something very wrong about this ghost town.

  He put the Jeep into gear and crept ahead, no more than

  ten miles an hour. The last thing he wanted to do was have to

  figure out how to change a tire.

  “I don’t like this place,” Orsay said.

  “Yeah. Let’s not go here for spring break,” Edilio said.

  Through the town.

  Past the ramshackle building.

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  G R A N T

  The path was narrow, but the Jeep managed it at a crawl.

  “Stop!” Orsay cried.

  Edilio slammed on the brakes. They came to rest beside

  a high outcropping of rock. If this had been an old Western,

  Edilio thought, this is where the ambush would take place.

  He lifted the gun. It was a reassuring weight in his hand.

  He checked to make sure it was cocked. Thumb on the safety.

  Finger resting on the trigger guard, just like he taught his

  recruits.

  He listened but didn’t hear anything.

  “Why did we stop?” Edilio asked Orsay.

  “Close enough,” she whispered. “I . . .”

  Edilio twisted in his seat. “What is it?”

  What he saw shocked him. Orsay’s eyes were wide, glittering whites showing all around.

  “What’s with her?” Bug asked in a quivering voice.

  “Orsay. Are you
okay?” Edilio asked.

  Her only answer was a moaning sound so unearthly that

  at first Edilio didn’t realize it was coming from her. It seemed

  to generate from her chest, a sound too deep for this frail girl.

  It was something closer to an animal growl.

  “Girl’s crazy,” Bug moaned.

  Orsay began to tremble. The trembling escalated until she

  was shaking, in spasm, like a person being electrocuted. Her

  tongue protruded from her mouth, gagging her.

  She was biting her tongue. Like she was trying to bite it off.

  “Hey!” Edilio slammed the glove compartment open and

  yanked everything out with frantic fingers, screwdriver,

  flashlight, a thick digital tire gauge. He grabbed the tire gauge

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  443

  and pushed his way into the backseat. He yelled, “Grab her,

  hold her!” to Bug, who instead shrank away.

  Edilio grabbed her by the hair, there was nothing else he

  could hold with one hand, twisted his fist into her hair until

  he had a firm purchase, yanked her head forward, and shoved

  the tire gauge between her teeth.

  Her jaws clamped hard, so hard, they cracked the plastic of

  the tire gauge. Blood flowed from her mouth, but her teeth no

  longer closed on her tongue.

  “Hold that in her mouth!” Edilio yelled at Bug.

  Bug just stared, paralyzed.

  Edilio yelled a curse and said, “Do it or I swear I will shoot

  you!”

  Bug snapped out of his trance and grabbed Orsay’s head

  with his hands.

  Edilio threw the Jeep into reverse and began backing up

  as fast as he could go, down the path. The first he noticed of

  the coyotes was when he felt a bump and heard a canine yelp

  of pain.

  One hand on the wheel, yelling in fear, Edilio smashed the

  Jeep into an embankment. He threw it into drive, advanced

  a few feet to get clear, threw it, gears grinding into reverse

  again as a huge, snarling face appeared beside him. Coyote

  teeth slavered and tore at the plastic.

  Edilio snap-aimed and fired. The burst was short, maybe

  five rounds, but more than enough to dissolve the coyote’s

  head into red mist.

  Down they bumped, down the path, smashing and jolting.

  Edilio could barely hold the wheel.

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  Then, suddenly, they were on flat terrain. He spun the

  wheel as two coyotes hurled themselves at the plastic sheath.

 

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