Hunger (Gone 2)
“I was the guy cooking them,” Sam said. “For all the good it did.”
Astrid twisted around to look up at him.
“Oh, I know that look,” Sam said. “Go ahead, genius, tell me what it is I missed.”
“With what are they looking at you?” Astrid asked.
Sam took a beat. Then, “They don’t have eyes.”
“No. I just checked again. They don’t have eyes. But somehow, in the middle of being levitated in midair and getting hit with blasts of light energy, they all twist around in midair to stare—at least it looks like they’re staring—in the same direction. At you.”
“Great. So somehow they can see. I think what matters is that I killed a bunch of them and they didn’t get the message.”
Astrid shook her head. “I don’t think you did anything to them. I’m not sure it’s ‘them.’ What if they’re like ants? I mean, what if there really aren’t individual worms? What if they’re all part of one superorganism? Like a hive.”
“So there’s a queen worm somewhere?”
“Maybe. Or maybe it’s not so hierarchical, less differentiated.”
He kissed the nape of her neck, sending pleasant shivers down her spine. “This is all great, Astrid. How do I kill them?”
“I have two ideas on that. One is a practical suggestion. You’ll like it. The other is crazier. You won’t like the crazy idea.”
It was time to get Little Pete ready for bed. She stood up and called to him, using the trigger phrase he understood. “Beddy boody, beddy boody.”
Little Pete gave her a hazy look, as if he had heard her but had not understood. Then he got up from his chair and headed obediently up the stairs. Obedient not to Astrid’s authority, really, but to what was, in effect, programming.
“I have to go do a walk-through in town, and you have to get Petey to bed,” Sam said. “So give me the short version.”
“Okay,” Astrid said. “SUVs running just on their rims, no tires. The zekes can’t eat through steel. That’s the practical suggestion.”
“That could work, Astrid,” he said excitedly. “Four-by-fours, on their steel rims, use hooks on poles to snag melons or cabbages or whatever. It would take practice, but unless the zekes can fly, the pickers would be pretty safe riding in the truck.” He grinned at her. “This is why I keep you around, despite your annoying superior attitude.”
“It’s not a superior attitude,” Astrid teased back. “It’s actual superiority.”
“So, what’s the crazy suggestion?”
“Negotiate.”
“What?”
“They’re too smart to be worms. They’re predatory and they shouldn’t be. They’re territorial and they couldn’t possibly be. They move and act as one, at least some of the time, and there’s no way. They were looking at you, but they don’t have eyes. I have no proof, obviously, but I have a feeling.”
“A feeling?”
“I don’t think they’re zekes. I think they’re Zeke.”
“Talk to the superworm?” Sam said. He shook his head and looked down at the ground. “No offense, but the SUV tractor thing is why you’re the smartest person in the FAYZ. The other part? That’s why even though you’re smart, you’re not the one in charge.”
Astrid resisted the urge to say something cutting in response to his condescension. “You need to keep your mind open, Sam.”
“Negotiate with a killer worm brain? I don’t think so, babe. I think maybe your brain is overheating. I have to go.”
He tried to kiss her, but she dodged it. “Good night. Let’s hope Petey doesn’t have any interesting nightmares tonight, huh? Oh wait, nothing to worry about there, it’s probably just my overheated brain.”
Computer Jack clicked through a dizzying number of windows at an amazing speed. The mouse cursor flew across the virtual page, opening, closing, pushing aside.
It wouldn’t work.