It was a happy thought. That did make it a little easier to stay comfortably aloft.
One of the other problems was that, unlike water, air was hard to move around in. Going up or down was easy. Going forward or backward was impossible. And even twisting around, for example, if you were lying on your back, well, that was not an easy thing to do, either.
As he was discovering.
He was, in effect, lying on his side at the moment, trying to come all the way around to face the ground. You couldn’t really push against air.
But that was okay. He’d figure it out.
One thing he was considering was picking some cabbages or melons. Not now, not with the sun going down. But maybe in the morning. All that lovely, lovely food right out there in the fields. And he would be able to float just above the ground, out of range of the zekes, but able to reach down and snag a nice, juicy cantaloupe.
Only problem was, how to get out over the field to begin with. And then, how to get back. If there was no breeze, he might stay hovering above a deadly zeke field forever.
That was not a happy thought. Not at all. To make his power really useful he would have to learn how to move once he was in the air.
Right now he was having a hard enough time just keeping his eye on the ground below.
Something was definitely going on down below. There was some big thing going on in the plaza. Someone had driven a convertible right onto the grass. Sam was not going to be happy about that. And now there were maybe fifty kids down there, all milling around like they were having a party.
Duck smelled the meat before he saw it.
He had to squint hard in the failing light. There it was, across the hood of the car. A deer.
Now someone was building a fire in the dry bed of the fountain. The smoke was rising toward Duck, just a whiff, really, although he supposed it could get to be irritating eventually.
He was drifting on the slight breeze, so he wasn’t too worried. What he was, was ravenous. The smell of meat was overwhelming. No wonder kids were freaking out.
He couldn’t see who the kids were, just the tops of their heads, which didn’t tell you much. But then he saw that one boy was tied by a rope to the bumper of the car.
Suddenly Duck had a very bad feeling about this gathering.
He spotted a face he knew, Mike Farmer, one of Edilio’s soldiers. He was staring straight up at Duck.
Duck gave a little wave. He smiled. He was about to say, “Hey, what’s going on down there?”
Then Mike yelled, “There’s one up there! Look! It’s one of them!”
One of who? Duck wondered.
Face after face looked up at him. Even the boy who was tied up. Hunter. It was Hunter, and not looking good, either. Looking like he’d been beaten up.
Others in the crowd looked up at Duck. And then, Zil.
Duck found himself staring down at Zil. Meeting his eyes. Realizing in one terrible moment what was happening below. Sam, gone. Edilio, gone. No one in charge. All of the leaders off. And Zil with Hunter as his prisoner and fresh meat on the menu.
“A chud spy!” Turk shouted.
“Get him!” Zil shouted.
Someone threw a rock. Duck saw it rise toward him, arc gracefully, and fall away.
Another rock, closer, but still too low.
Then Mike raised his rifle to his shoulder and took aim.
Sam was on the bus. Sun shining so bright through the windows.
It was bouncing along. Quinn there beside him. But something was wrong with Quinn, something Sam didn’t want to look at.