Drake narrowed his eyes, uncomprehending.
“He’s hungry,” Caine whispered. It hurt him to see the dawning realization in Diana’s eyes as he said the words, “He’s hungry in the dark.”
“How do you know?” Drake demanded.
Caine spread his hands, helpless to explain. Words would not come.
“It’s why he let me go,” Caine said, more to himself than to Diana or Drake. “It’s why he released me. For this.”
“Are you telling me we’re living out some fever dream of yours?” Diana was poised between laughing and crying, incredulous. “Are you telling me we did all this because that monster out in the desert is in your head?”
“What does he need us to do?” Drake asked, eager, not angry. A dog anxious to please his true master.
“We have to bring it to him. We have to feed him,” Caine said.
“Feed him what?”
Caine sighed and looked at Jack. “The food that brings the light to his darkness. The same thing that brings light to Perdido Beach. The uranium.”
Jack shook his head slowly, understanding but not wanting to understand. “Caine, how do we do that? How do we take uranium from the core? How do we move it for miles across the desert? It’s heavy. It’s dangerous. It’s radioactive.”
“Caine, this is crazy,” Diana pleaded. “Drag radioactive uranium across the desert? How does this help you? How does this help any of us? What is the point?”
Caine hesitated. He frowned. She was right. Why should he serve the Darkness? Let the creature feed itself. Caine had problems of his own, his own needs, his own—
A roar so loud, it seemed to vibrate the walls, filled the room. It knocked Caine to his knees. He clapped his hands over his ears, trying to block it out, but it went on and on, as he cringed and covered himself and fought the sudden desire to void his bowels.
It stopped. The silence rang.
Slowly Caine opened his eyes. Diana looked at him like he had gone crazy. Drake stared incredulous, on the edge of laughing. Jack merely looked worried.
They hadn’t heard it. That inhuman, irresistible roar had been for Caine alone.
Punishment. The gaiaphage would be obeyed.
“What is going on with you?” Diana asked.
Drake narrowed his eyes and smirked openly. “It’s the Darkness. Caine is no longer running things. There’s a new boss.”
Diana gave voice to Caine’s own thoughts.
“Poor Caine,” she said. “You poor, screwed-up boy.”
For Lana each step seemed too loud, like she was walking on a giant bass drum. Her legs were stiff, knees welded solid. Her feet felt each pebble as though she were barefoot.
Her heart pounded so hard, it seemed the whole world must be able to hear it.
No, no, it was just her imagination. There was no sound but the soft cornflake crunch of sneakers on gravel. Her heart beat for her ears only. She was no louder than a mouse.
But she was convinced it could hear her. Like an owl listening and watching for prey in the night, it watched and it waited, and all her stealth was like a brass band to it, him, the thing, the Darkness.
The moon was out. Or what passed for the moon. The stars shone. Or something very like stars. Silvery light illuminated tips of brush, the seams of a boulder, and cast deep shadows everywhere else.
Lana picked her way along, holding herself tight. The gun was in her right hand, hanging by her side, brushing against her thigh. A flashlight—off for now—stuck up from her pocket.
You think you own me. You think you control me. No one owns me. No one controls me.
Two points of light winked in the shadows ahead.