Gone (Gone 1)

“Me,” Orc said, shouldering his way forward. He still carried his aluminum baseball bat. And he had acquired a policeman’s helmet, one of the black plastic helmets the Perdido Beach cops used when they patrolled on bicycles.

Caine fixed the thug with a penetrating stare. “You must be Captain Orc.”

“Yeah. That’s me.”

Caine stuck out his hand. “I’m honored to meet you, Captain.”

Orc’s mouth dropped open. He hesitated. Sam thought it was probably the first time in Orc’s turbulent life that anyone had said they were honored to meet him. And probably the first time anyone had offered to shake his hand. Orc was clearly confused. He glanced at Howard.

Howard was looking from Orc to Caine, sizing up the situation. “He’s paying you props, Captain,” Howard said.

Orc grunted, shifted the bat from right hand to left, and stuck out his thick paw. Caine grabbed it with both his hands and solemnly looked Orc in the eye as they shook hands.

“Smooth,” Astrid said under her breath.

Still holding Orc’s hand in his, Caine challenged, “Now, who else speaks for Perdido Beach?”

Bouncing Bette said, “Sam Temple here went into a burning building to rescue a little girl. He can speak for me, anyway.”

There was a murmur of agreement.

“Yeah, Sam is a hero for real,” a voice said.

“He could have died,” another voice seconded.

“Yeah, Sam’s the guy.”

Caine’s smile came and disappeared so quickly, Sam wasn’t sure it had happened. For that millisecond it was a look of triumph. Caine walked straight up to Sam, open and forthright, hand extended.

“There are probably better people than me,” Sam said, backing away.

But Caine grabbed his elbow and maneuvered him into a handshake. “Sam, is it? It sounds like you truly are a hero. Are you related to our school nurse, Connie Temple?”

“She’s my mother.”

“I’m not surprised that she would have a brave son,” Caine said with deep feeling. “She’s a very good woman. I see you’re humble as well as brave, Sam, but I…I’m asking for your help. I need your help.”

With the mention of his mother, everything fell into place. Caine. “C.” What were the odds that “C” was some other kid from Coates?

Sooner or later, C or one of the others will do something serious. Someone will get hurt. Just like S with T.

“Okay,” Sam said. “If that’s what people want.”

/> A few other names were mentioned, and Sam halfheartedly, but loyally, named Quinn.

Caine’s eyes flickered from Sam to Quinn, and for just a millisecond there flashed a cynical, knowing look. But it was gone in a heartbeat, replaced by Caine’s practiced expression of humility and resolve.

“Then let’s go in together,” Caine said. He turned and marched purposefully up the church steps. The rest of the chosen fell in behind him.

One of the Coates kids, a dark-eyed, very beautiful girl, waylaid Sam and held out her hand. Sam took it.

“I’m Diana,” she said, not letting his hand go. “Diana Ladris.”

“Sam Temple.”

Her midnight eyes met his and he wanted to look away, feeling awkward, but somehow could not.

“Ah,” she said, as if someone had told her something fascinating. Then she let him go and smirked. “Well, well. I guess we’d better go in. We don’t want to leave Fearless Leader without followers.”