Gone (Gone 1)

“Overcooked,” Edilio agreed, looking over his shoulder.

Quinn said, “Cheerios?”

He poured himself some and began humming to himself, determined not to get into a conversation with Edilio. It was getting so he could barely stand Edilio. His cheerfulness. His competence at just about everything. And just now, the way he had thrown himself against Orc like some kind of Mexican commando.

It was stupid, Quinn thought, stupid going after a guy like Orc. It was too bad what had happened to Bette, but what was the point picking a fight with someone you couldn’t beat? If Drake hadn’t come al

ong, Edilio would be lucky to be walking right now.

Come to think of it…

Sam returned. He nodded at Edilio and barely looked at Quinn.

Quinn gritted his teeth. Perfect. Now Sam was mad at him for not getting his head beat in. Like Sam was such a big hero. Quinn could remember lots of times when Sam had wimped out on waves that Quinn jumped on. Lots of times.

“The pasta didn’t survive,” Quinn said.

“I got Bette home. I hope she’s okay,” Sam said. “She said she was okay.”

“Bette’s got what you have, doesn’t she?” Quinn said as Sam sat down and dug in to his own bowl of cereal.

“Yeah. Maybe less of it, I guess. She told me all she can do is make her hands kind of glow.”

“So she hasn’t burned anyone’s arm off yet, huh?” Quinn was tired of the way Sam was looking at him with a mixture of pity and contempt. He was tired of being dissed just because he had some common sense and minded his own business.

Sam looked up, eyes narrowed, like he might make an argument of it. But he pressed his lips into a grim line and pushed his food away and said nothing.

Quinn said, “This is why you can’t tell anyone. People will think you’re a freak. You see what happens to freaks.”

“Bette’s not a freak,” Sam said in the forced-calm way he had, that gritted-teeth thing he did. “She’s just a girl from school.”

“Don’t be stupid, Sam,” Quinn said. “Bette, Little Pete, the girl in the fire, you. If there’s four of you, there’s more. Normal people aren’t going to like that. Normal people are going to think you’re dangerous or whatever.”

“Is that what you think, Quinn?” Sam asked in a quiet voice. But still he avoided looking Quinn in the eye.

Sam found the rules sheet in his back pocket, unfolded it and spread it on the table.

Quinn said, “I’m just saying look around, man. Kids have enough to be scared of. How are normal people—”

“You want to stop saying ‘normal people’ like that?” Sam snapped.

Edilio, always the peacemaker now between Sam and Quinn, said, “Read out those rules, man.”

Sam sighed. He flattened the paper carefully, scanned down the page, and made a rude noise. “Number one says Caine is the mayor of Perdido Beach and the whole area known as the FAYZ.”

Edilio snorted. “Doesn’t think much of himself, does he?”

“Number two, Drake is appointed sheriff and has the power to enforce the rules. Number three, I’m fire chief and responsible for responding to emergencies. Great. Lucky me.” He glanced up and added, “Lucky us.”

“Nice of you to remember the little people,” Quinn sniped.

“Number four, no one may enter any store and remove anything without permission from the mayor or the sheriff.”

Quinn said, “You have a beef with that? People can’t be just looting stuff all the time, grabbing whatever.”

“No beef with that,” Sam agreed reluctantly. “Five says we all have to help Mother Mary at the day care, provide her with whatever she asks for, and help anytime she says. Okay. Fair enough. Six: thou shalt not kill.”

“Really?” Quinn asked.