Hunger (Gone 2)

He had no food. What he had were stomach pains. And his crew. His posse. The Human Crew. All of whom, he realized, were losers. Except for Lance. Lance being there kind of made them look cooler than they were. He even managed to look cool by the flickering candlelight.

“The freaks have food,” Turk said for the thousandth time. “They always have food. Regular kids are going hungry, but the freaks always have enough.”

Zil doubted that, but there was no point arguing about it. It wasn’t some crazy story about the freaks having food that made him hate them. It was their superior attitude. But whatever.

“I heard Brianna caught some pigeons and ate them,” Lisa said, then giggled. Zil wasn’t sure if she always giggled, or was mostly giggling because she was high.

She was drawing on a pad, perching a small flashlight on her lap and using a Sharpie to do variations on the letters “H” and “C” for Human Crew. She had a version that Zil kind of liked where the “H” and the “C” were sort of joined, slanted to one side, all hard edges.

Antoine had found the weed in his parents’ bedroom. While conducting yet another desperate search for food.

“That’s what I’m saying,” Turk said, pointing at Lisa like she was evidence. “They have their ways of getting food. The freaks all work together.” Turk was not smoking. He was staring at Zil. Like Zil might have some solution. Like Zil was going to have some kind of plan.

Zil didn’t have a plan. Zil just knew that freaks were running things in the FAYZ. And not just in Perdido Beach, but up the hill at Coates, too. And now at the power plant. Freaks running everything. Well, freaks and their helpers, like Edilio and Albert and Astrid.

And the other thing Zil knew was that things were a mess. People were starving. And if the freaks were in charge, who else’s fault could it be?

“They have food, I guarantee you,” Turk said.

“Yeah, well, we have tree,” Antoine said, and laughed at his own wit.

The front door opened and Zil reached for his baseball bat, just in case. It was Hank. Hank came in, stepped right up to Antoine, who was easily twice his size, and said, “Put that away.”

“What are you, the po-po?”

“This is not about getting stoned,” Hank said. “That’s not what Zil is about. That’s not what the Human Crew is.”

Antoine looked blearily at Zil. Zil was surprised at hearing himself referred to as if he had some larger meaning. It was flattering. Also confusing.

“Yeah, put away the weed, man,” Zil said.

Antoine made a dismissive noise.

To everyone’s amazement, Hank knocked the joint from Antoine’s hand.

Antoine rose from the couch, looking like he might flatten little Hank. But Zil said, “No. No fighting between ourselves.”

Lance said, “Yeah. That’s right,” but he didn’t sound too sure.

It was left to Turk to settle the matter. “Hank’s right. Zil’s not about us acting like everyone else, like kids. Zil’s about us dealing with the freaks. If we sit around getting high, Zil’s not going to be able to deal with the problem. He needs us to be cool.”

“Yeah,” Lance agreed. “But be cool about w

hat?”

“I found Hunter.” Hank delivered the news with quiet pride. Like he was presenting a straight-A report card to his parents.

Zil jumped to his feet. “You found him?”

“Yeah. He’s across the highway, hiding out in a house over there. And you’ll never guess what he’s got there.”

“What?”

“Food. The mutant freak killed a deer. Then he cooked it with his freak powers and last I saw he was cutting it up with a knife.”

“Keeping it all for himself,” Turk said. “Just him and the other freaks. They’ll eat venison, the rest of us can go boil some grass or whatever.”

Zil’s mouth watered. Meat. Actual meat. And not rat or pigeon, but something that was almost like beef.