Gone (Gone 1)

Lana backed away, but too late. Drake leveled his gun at her.

“I’m right-handed. ’Least I used to be. But I can still hit you from this distance.”

“What do you want?”

Drake motioned toward the stump of his right arm. It was gone from just above the elbow. “What do you think I want?”

The one time she’d seen Drake Merwin, he had made her think of Pack Leader: strong, hyper alert, dangerous. Now, the lean physique looked gaunt, the shark’s grin was a tight grimace, his eyes were red-rimmed. His stare, once languidly menacing, was now intense, burning hot. He looked like someone who had been tortured beyond endurance.

“I’ll try,” Lana said.

“You’ll do more than try,” he said. He convulsed in pain, face scrunched. A low, eerie moan escaped his throat.

“I don’t know if I can grow a whole arm back,” Lana said. “Let me touch it.”

“Not here,” he hissed. He motioned with his gun. “Through the back door.”

“If you shoot me, I can’t help you,” Lana argued.

“Can you heal dogs? How about if I blow his brains out? Can you heal that, freak?”

The car Lana had seen driving by was parked, engine running, in the alley behind the house. The boy called Panda was at the wheel.

“Don’t make me do this,” Lana pleaded. “I would help you no matter what. You don’t have to do this.”

But there was no point in arguing. If Drake had ever owned a conscience, it had died along with his arm.

They drove off through the sleeping town.

Out into the night.

Howard had seen with his own eyes the small army Sam had assembled. He’d seen them descending on Ralph’s. The grocery store was unguarded, which meant the other sheriffs had decided to get out of the way and make themselves scarce.

“There’s too many,” Howard had concluded.

So he and Orc had stolen a car and made their way toward Coates Academy. But they had taken a wrong turn somewhere along the road and ended up on a dirt track leading into the desert as night fell.

They had turned around, retracing their way to the main road, but that hadn’t worked, either. Finally, they ran out of gas.

“This was your stupid idea,” Orc muttered.

“What did you want to do? Stay in town with Sam? He had, like, twenty kids with him.”

“I could kick his butt.”

“Orc, don’t be a moron,” Howard snapped in frustration. “If Caine’s not there, and Drake’s not there, and Sammy is marching back into town like a big deal, what do you think that means? I mean, come on, Orc, do the math.”

Orc’s pig eyes had narrowed to slits. “Don’t call me stupid. I have to, I’ll kick your teeth in.”

Howard wasted twenty minutes ameliorating Orc’s hurt feelings. Which still left them sitting in a dead car in the middle of nowhere.

“I see a light,” Orc said.

“Hey, yeah.” Howard jumped from the car and started running. Orc lumbered after him.

The twin beams of a car moved at an intercept angle to them. If they slowed down, the car would miss them, never see them.

“Hurry up,” Howard yelled.