Lana felt as if the ground was opening beneath her. But also like she had known it would. Like she’d been expecting it for a long time.

She had fended off the evil; she had not defeated it. She couldn’t. She knew that. It had taken all her strength to shut her mind to the Darkness. It felt almost as if the gaiaphage had infected some physical part of her brain and Lana had healed that damaged bit. But the scar tissue remained and was still sensitive to the slightest touch.

She could feel it reaching for her. It had been out there probing for a moment of weakness for a long time. The gaiaphage did not like defiance. It especially did not like successful resistance. It demanded submission.

Now it had at last brought total war to the FAYZ, and Lana couldn’t sit on the sidelines.

Could she? Could she? Please?

In a dull, lifeless voice Lana said, “Help Sanjit give these kids water.”

“I’m not here to—”

“I’m taking five, Astrid,” Lana said, glaring up at her, and Astrid nodded.

Lana’s knees cracked as she stood up, and it was a few steps before she could straighten all the way. She went out into the hallway, past the crying, scared, and traumatized kids lying under blankets on the floor, past Sanjit’s little brothers and sisters, each trying to offer comfort or prayers.

Down the stairs and out onto the long-dead lawn. Here she was shielded from the eyes of lookers, but she could see the ocean. She soaked in the air, which should have been fresh but tasted of fire.

Then she closed her eyes and turned her thoughts to the Darkness.

Hello, Darkness, my old friend. The words of an old song. Hello, Darkness.

The effort was through a space Lana could not see but could feel, manipulating limbs she didn’t have, listening for soundlessness, looking for an object she could only see by looking away.

But then: the contact. The gaiaphage felt her touch. It reacted violently, lashing out, trying to push her away. Sensing a trap.

Lana cried out in pain. No one heard her.

She wept a little—memories, mostly—then wiped the tears away.

She went back inside, felt rather than really saw Astrid’s expectant gaze.

“It’s coming. But it’s hurt. It’s trying to heal. It’s coming straight down the highway.”

“How soon?” Astrid asked.

“It can be killed, I think. It thinks so, anyway,” Lana said, in a wondering whisper. Her hand moved reflexively to the automatic pistol still stuck in her belt. “It’s afraid.”

“Edilio’s setting up an ambush.”

“No!” Lana said furiously. “Do it now. Now! Kill it now while it’s weak. If it heals that body, we’re all dead.”

Lana grabbed Astrid by both shoulders and looked her in the eye. “Listen to me. I had a chance to kill it once and it beat me. This is a second chance. There won’t be a third. Kill it. Kill it! Tell them all, whatever it takes, Astrid. Kill it!”

“There she is!” Caine said. He was in the front seat of the bus, which Sam was driving with painstaking care, weaving across the highway.

Gaia was a quarter mile away, just passing a pair of burned-out cars. She was dragging what looked a lot like a human leg. The foot wore a tattered red sneaker.

“Floor it!” Caine said.

“She’ll hear us,” Sam countered.

“Look again. She has earbuds in. We’re only about two miles from town. Now or never, surfer dude. Floor it! Floor it!”

Sam did. The engine didn’t exactly leap to respond. It accelerated at a slow, stately pace, only gradually picking up speed. Caine watched the speedometer needle.

Twenty.

Tags: Michael Grant Gone
Source: readsnovelonline.net