Fear (A Gone Novel)

Twenty

17 HOURS, 20 MINUTES

SAM WOKE SUDDENLY and knew something had happened.

He lay amid the twisted blanket for a few seconds trying to gather together the threads of unconscious perception. Movements, sounds, hazy notions of murmured conversation.

Then he got quickly to his feet. He pulled on his clothing and stepped out into the main hallway. He was heading for the stairs when he stopped, turned, and saw confirmation: Astrid's backpack was gone.

He pushed back a sliding closet door. Her shotgun was gone as well.

At that moment Dekka came down the stairs. She was startled to see him up. He was sure he saw a guilty look cross her face before being suppressed.

"She took the letters," Sam said flatly.

"She knocked me out," Dekka said. She pointed at the bruise on the side of her head and turned her face so he could see it by the light of the small Sammy sun.

Sam's lips curled into a feral snarl. "Right. Astrid. Knocked you out."

"She popped me with the butt of her shotgun."

"I can see that. I also know what it takes to beat you down, Dekka."

She flared angrily, but he knew it was the truth, and she knew that he knew.

"I'm sending Brianna after her." "Astrid's right: we need PB to know what's happening, and we need to work together with them. Someone needs to take that letter to Albert and Caine."

"Not Astrid," Sam snapped. He started to push past her to where Brianna lay snoring, blissfully unaware.

Dekka stepped in front of him. "No, Sam."

Sam stepped up to her, so close they almost touched. "You don't tell me no, Dekka."

"If you send Brianna after her, one of two things: Breeze finds her and drags her back. And Astrid will hate you for it. Or Breeze hits a rock at seventy miles an hour and ends up dead or busted up."

Sam started to say something angry. Instead his voice broke. "Drake's out there!" He tried to say more but the words couldn't get past the lump in his throat, so he pointed, jabbing his finger furiously toward the land.

"She's doing the right thing," Dekka said. "And you can't send the girl I love to die in order to rescue the girl you love."

Sam felt his lip quiver. He wanted to be furious, but raw emotion was making him weak. He swallowed hard and shook his head once, angrily shaking off the upwelling fear and loss. "I'll go after her. I'll bring her back."

"No, boss." It was Edilio. He stepped out from behind Dekka. "Kids wake up tomorrow morning and see you gone without even an explanation, that's it, man. You gotta look strong and stay strong. You have the light, Sam, and that's all that will keep people together."

"You don't understand," Sam pleaded. "Drake is sick. He hates Astrid. You don't know what he can do."

"Drake hates everyone," Edilio said.

Suddenly Sam found his anger. "You don't understand a damned thing, Edilio; you don't have anyone, you don't have anyone you need or love or care about, it's just you."

He regretted the words as soon as he spoke them. But it was too late.

Edilio's usually warm, sad eyes narrowed and went cold. He pushed his way around Dekka and stood face-to-face with Sam. He stabbed his finger in Sam's face. "There's a lot you don't know, Sam. There's a lot I don't tell you. I know who I am," he said with a ferocity to match Sam's own anger. "I know what I do, and what I am to this place. I know what I am to you, and how much you depend on me. You may be the symbol, and you may be the one everyone turns to when something goes bad, and you are the big badass, but I'm the guy doing the day-in, day-out work of running things. So I don't make this about me."