Plague (Gone 4)

But water was Sam’s natural element. He’d surfed since he was a toddler, and powering through placid lake water was nothing compared to fighting the surf.

The cold water felt good. Clean. He switched from freestyle to backstroke for a while, gazing up at the night sky, but powering along as fast as he could all the while. If he were back in the world, he’d be looking to join the high school swim team. His butterfly stroke was weak, but his freestyle was as good as anyone’s, and his backstroke even better.

What would it be like to be worrying about improving his butterfly or breaststroke instead of worrying that his friend was being eaten alive from the inside?

What was he going to do next? They trusted him, Dekka and Jack. They expected him to always have a plan. But beyond getting away from Drake and his bug army, he didn’t have a plan.

Drake would go after Perdido Beach next. He would send those creatures rampaging through town killing everyone.

Then he would take Astrid and . . .

Don’t get emotional, Sam warned himself. Just figure out how to win.

He heard clumsy splashing ahead. He rolled over smoothly into a crawl and powered hard and fast.

“Shhh,” he hissed as soon as he was up with them. “You people make more noise than a bunch of littles in the kiddie pool.”

The four of them closed the distance to the dock. Sam motioned for Jack, Dekka, and Toto to slip silently beneath it. Toto had lost his grip on his cushion and it floated away. Jack banged his head on the bottom of the dock and cursed under his breath.

Sam palmed the dock and hoisted himself up, drenched.

“Hi, Sam.”

Brittney stood not twenty feet away.

He spotted three of the creatures over by the marina parking lot. They were waiting. Like a well-trained pack of attack dogs.

He’d been outwitted. Outplayed.

“Hi, Brittney,” Sam said, standing there, dripping.

“I asked you so many times to release me, Sam,” she said. Her voice was cold and far away. Not angry, not scared. Just maybe a little sad.

“I know, Brittney. But I’m not a cold-blooded killer,” Sam said.

Brittney nodded. “No, you’re a good person.” She said it without sarcasm.

“I try to be. Like you, Brittney. I know you’re a good person.”

He glanced at the creatures. They hadn’t moved, but they were alert. They could be on him in ten seconds.

“He hates you,” Brittney said.

“Drake?” Sam laughed. “He hates everyone. Hate is all he’s got.”

“Not Drake. Him. God.”

Sam blinked. What was he supposed to say to that? “I thought God loved everyone.”

“I used to believe that, too,” Brittney said. “But then I met Him.”

“Did you?” She had lost whatever grip on reality she’d had. He couldn’t blame her. What Brittney had endured would leave anyone mental.

“He’s not in the sky, you know,” Brittney said in a normal, conversational tone. “He’s not up in Heaven somewhere.”

“I didn’t realize that.”

“He’s in the earth, Sam. He lives in a dark, dark place.”