Run Away! Run Away!
BY THE TIME they reached the armory, Dekka had already begun to plan, but this was a plan for defeat, for withdrawal. They could get away from New York. They could find some distant place, some cabin in some faraway, frozen wilderness. Maybe they could regroup there. Maybe they could attract more Rockborn. Maybe somehow they and the government together . . .
She had comforted Simone as a way of comforting herself. She had lost. They’
d been beaten, and badly. She, Dekka Talent, had led them to a second defeat.
They filed into the armory, and Dekka began handing out orders. “Shade? Check the doors and windows, would you? And where’s Edilio?”
A door opened and Edilio appeared as if by magic. There was someone with him.
Someone . . .
Dekka’s heart stopped.
“Sam?”
“Afraid so,” Sam said, smiling.
Dekka felt the last of her strength dissolve. Her knees almost buckled, and then Sam was there with his arms around her, as she had embraced Simone.
“Oh, God, Sam.” She pulled away, brushing furiously at tears. “Sam, this is Cruz, and Malik. Francis. You know Armo. And Shade . . .” She looked around, momentarily forgetting that she’d sent Shade off on an errand. “And this is Simone Mar—”
“Simone,” the girl interrupted. “Just Simone.”
Shade’s errand had been one she could carry out in mere seconds, and she vibrated to a stop and began to de-morph.
“Hi, I’m—”
“I know who you are,” Shade said, in the kind of voice you might use on being introduced to your sports hero or a saint. “I’m Shade Darby.”
“Edilio,” Dekka said, “we need more flamethrowers; they’re all that works. Sam. Oh, God, Sam, am I glad to see you.”
“Can you bring me up to speed?”
They were in the middle of the great hall of the armory, a space that seemed almost cozy now compared to Grand Central. All the chairs were against a wall, so they sat down on the floor, cross-legged, in a circle.
And Dekka narrated. She told Sam about Vector. About the New Jersey killing field. About their first failed effort to take him down. And with bitter words she detailed her own failure to prevail at Grand Central.
Sam waited quietly through it all. From time to time, he nodded or raised an eyebrow, but he seemed to understand that Dekka needed to make this public confession.
When Dekka was done, no one spoke for a while. Even Shade had nothing to say, quiet for once in the presence of the boy, the man, who she had studied for years.
Finally, Sam said, “Tell me something, Dekka. How dangerous is Vector compared to Caine?”
Dekka frowned, confused. Was Sam so out of it he still thought this was the FAYZ? “Caine was a bastard, but his power was limited. He could never have done what Vector did at City Hall. Have you seen any of the video? He—”
“Right,” Sam interrupted. “That wasn’t just terrible, it was sadistic, cruel. It was meant to terrorize. Caine was a bad person, a very bad person, but no, he would not be capable of that, even if he’d had the power. But Drake? Drake would be every bit as vicious.”
Dekka nodded, still confused and even worried that Sam was making a fool of himself.
“Yes, Drake was evil. Sadistic and cruel. As morally sick as Vector, but with far less power.”
“So?” Dekka cried, unable to contain herself any longer.
“So,” Sam said. “Did I stop Caine?”
“What?”