Plague

church. “Yeah, but there’s a couple of saints mixed in with the crazies.”
    Caine walked stiffly back to town. He was burned, scraped, punctured, bruised, and might, he thought, have broken a couple of ribs.
    But he had won.
    The only downside—aside from the various pains that made him wince with every step—was that he hadn’t done it alone. Brianna had scored an assist. He couldn’t stand her, but man, was she good in a fight.
    And some unseen, unknowable force had caused the bugs the two of them had just killed to disappear. Even their broken-off legs, their fluids and guts had disappeared. Like they’d been wiped entirely out of existence.
    Brianna had zoomed off to leave him limping all alone. No doubt she was bragging and claiming all the credit.
    But it wouldn’t work. No, everyone had seen him walking toward the threat. And now the threat was gone, just as he had promised. He had delivered. He had earned his rightful place.
    Just as he crossed the highway into town, the first kids came rushing up to him, grateful, giddy, wanting to slap palms.
    “You did it, man! You did it!”
    He refused their high fives and stood very still, looking at them, and just waited.
    They seemed uncertain, a little worried. And then it dawned on them.
    The first one bowed his head. It was a jerky, awkward gesture, but that was okay with Caine: they’d learn.
    The second kid, then a third and a fourth, rushing up to join in, bowed their heads to Caine. He nodded in solemn acknowledgment and walked on, no longer feeling nearly so much pain.

The Morning After

    SAM COULD NOT face the town and the kids there. If he went into town now, there might be a fight with Caine. He couldn’t face a fight. Later. Not now. Not yet.
    He had seen the sudden and complete disappearance of the bugs. One minute the creatures that had hatched inside Dekka had been floating in the water and the next second they were gone.
    He thought he knew what had happened. Only one power was great enough to cause them to cease to exist.
    Against all odds, Jack must have succeeded in throwing Little Pete to the bugs. Only Petey could have done it. Sam’s desperate, lunatic plan had worked, had actually worked.
    But once Astrid knew that he was the one who had ordered Jack to do it, she would never speak to him again.
    The town was saved. But Sam was lost.
    You ordered the death of a five-year-old autistic boy, Mr. Temple?
    The accusing tribunal was back.
    That’s right , he told them in his imagination. That’s what I did.
    He walked until he found himself at the cliff. The last time he’d been there . . . Well, groping Taylor seemed like a fairly small sin, now.
    That’s right. And because I did the bugs were destroyed. And lives were saved.
    You don’t get to make those decisions, Mr. Temple. God decides life or death.
    “Yeah?” Sam said aloud. “Well, I don’t think much of His decisions.”
    He stared out at the sea. He was standing just where Mary had stood when she jumped. But he was not tempted to follow her. Mary had been driven to insanity.
    “That’s right,” Sam said to no one. “I did it. And it worked.”
    “Sam.”
    He spun on his heel. Astrid stood there. Jack was a hundred feet back and showing no desire to come any closer.
    “Astrid.”
    Her eyes were red and swollen. She was looking past him, staring at the barrier with an expression he couldn’t read.
    “It’s still there,” she said.
    He glanced at the impervious wall. “Yeah.”
    “But . . . but Petey’s dead,” she said. “It should have stopped. It shouldn’t be there. It should all be over.”
    “I’m sorry about Little Pete.”
    “It’s still there.”
    “I guess—,” he began.
    “For nothing! I killed him for nothing!” Astrid cried. “Oh, God, no! I did it for nothing!”
    “You? You didn’t . . .” But then he saw the look in Jack’s eyes. Jack nodded, then looked down at the ground.
    Instinctively he moved to Astrid, to put his arms around her. But something stopped him. He knew she wouldn’t welcome it.
    It struck him then with the force of a revelation that she could not be with him while she felt weak or out of control. Astrid needed to be strong. She needed to be . . . Astrid.
    And right now? She wasn’t. He had never seen her look so lost. He would have so happily taken her in his arms. But she wouldn’t have him. Not like this.
    “Astrid . . .”
    “For nothing,” she whispered.
    He stepped back. “Astrid, listen: I had