Fear (Gone 5)

Penny’s left leg caught fire. She screeched and ran in panic, spreading the flames to her clothing.

“No, Sam!” Diana cried.

An unimaginably powerful force threw Sam spinning into the air. It was like someone had set a bomb off under him. And then he stopped spinning. He stopped falling back to earth.

He looked down and saw the baby looking up at him and laughing and clapping her hands. Then the baby took her chubby little fingers and made a motion like she was stretching dough.

Sam felt his body pulling in opposite directions. It squeezed the air from his lungs. It was as if two giant hands had each taken a rough grip on him and were tearing him apart.

He heard his bones cracking.

Felt the sharp pain of ribs separating from cartilage.

The baby was bringing him closer now. Like she wanted to see better. Like she wanted to be sprayed with his very blood as he was ripped in—

Diana stumbled forward. She plowed into her child and both fell, but without hitting the ground.

Sam fell to earth. But he, too, did not quite smash onto the concrete.

Dekka!

She was panting like she’d just run a marathon. She stood in the middle of the road, glaring furiously, hands raised. She looked, Sam thought, like she’d taken a trip to hell. But she had shown excellent timing.

Sam did not hesitate. As soon as his feet touched the ground he jumped up, ignoring the bone-shattering pain in his body.

Penny had dropped and rolled, the fire was out, but her skin was the color and texture of a well-glazed ham.

Sam ran to where she lay gasping with pain, real pain, no illusion, and straddled her and aimed his hands down at her.

“You’re too dangerous to live,” Sam said.

His own flesh suddenly caught fire, but he was too close, too ready. He was already there and all he had to do now was to think and—

—and a chunk of pavement, a slab of concrete two feet across and shedding the dirt from which it had been ripped, smashed down on Penny’s head with such force that the ground bounced beneath Sam’s feet.

Her body ceased moving instantly. Like a switch had been thrown.

Caine stood over her, breathing hard. “Payback,” he snarled. He kicked the slab of cement for emphasis.

Drake’s melted face had begun to repair itself, but he still looked like a microwaved action figure. His whip, however, was in perfect working order.

He struck and Sam cried out in pain.

Caine raised the rock he’d used to kill Penny and readied it to smash down on Drake.

“No, Daddy,” said Gaia.

THIRTY-EIGHT

15 SECONDS

“IT BLOWS UP and kills us all,” Connie said quietly, weirdly calm. “Or it does … something else.”

Abana took her hand. The two of them.

And other vehicles were coming down the highway. Not police—there were no sirens. The police and soldiers had been withdrawn to a safe distance.

These were a handful of private cars and vans. Parents. Friends. People who had gotten the emails and tweets and were rushing to stop what could not now be stopped.