Computer Jack was on his knees, sobbing, hands over his face. Astrid had no time for that. “Jack, get a dinghy, go pick up survivors.”

“Everyone’s dead,” he moaned.

“No, they aren’t. If you don’t want to fight, then you get ambulance duty. Go! Put that strength to some use.”

Brianna was hobbling toward them, cursing loudly with every step. Half her hair was gone. One side of her face was cherry red.

“Brianna!” Dekka cried. She reached land, dropped Orc unceremoniously on the shore, and ran to Brianna.

Brianna sagged into her arms, showing weakness in a way Astrid had never before witnessed. But then Brianna had never had to fight someone like herself.

“She’s hurt! She’s hurt bad!” Dekka cried.

Other kids were gravitating toward the three, now four, girls on the beach. Orc got slowly to his feet and looked around in confusion.

Astrid gave orders with a calm she did not feel. See what cars or trucks we have that will still run. Look for survivors. If anyone’s too hurt to move, come tell me where they are. See what food you can round up.

Brianna’s left ear was gone, and the skin around it and all the way down to her neck looked like melted wax.

“Orc,” Astrid said. “This is a terrible thing to ask, but we need someone on the perimeter—the edge out there—to see if Gaia is heading back. Or maybe she’s injured and—”

Suddenly she felt weak and her head spun. Shock. She recognized it. It was Diana who steadied her.

Astrid sank into the mud, head between her hands, trying to think, trying to not think. Big picture, Astrid: what do we do?

I won’t be meeting Sam’s mother, she thought. The endgame is not yet ended. The after is a million years away.

The game is to stay alive. The game is survival. For the next minute, hour . . .

Facts. The van they sometimes used was intact, and it had a quarter tank of gas. The Winnebago they sometimes ran as a charging station had an eighth of a tank. That would still leave a couple of dozen people by the look of it. So most people would have to walk, but the severely wounded would be able to ride—assuming that anyone could be found who could drive a motor home without running it into a ditch.

She would have to stay with the ones on foot.

They would die.

The noise level was rising as the shock slowly wore off. Kids were crying more now, sobbing, yelling for lost friends or relatives. People shook with fear. No one was foolish enough to believe Gaia was done or that they were safe.

Jack was rowing out in the lake while someone with him played a flashlight around and shouted, “Is anyone alive?”

Diana, haunted, stood looking after Orc as he trotted in the direction Gaia had taken. “She’s going to kill everyone. She’s going to kill us all.”

“I’m getting Breeze in the van,” Dekka said. She had her friend in her arms, was holding Brianna like a child. “Her and another kid who is in real bad shape.”

Astrid nodded, understanding there was no way to stop Dekka from going with Brianna. She looked into Brianna’s bleary eyes and tried not to stare at the awful burn. “You saved a lot of lives, Breeze,” Astrid said. “You’re a hero.”

“Damn right she is,” Dekka said, her voice rough with emotion.

“Lana will fix her up,” Astrid said. “Get everyone you can in that van. If you run into Sam . . .”

Ten minutes later the van pulled away.

Computer Jack rowed three shocked survivors—just three—back to shore. “There’s more kids floating,” he said.

“Then go get them!” Astrid said.

Jack shook his head. “There’s no hurry,” he said, and Astrid understood what he was saying. She sent him to help carry the injured to the Winnebago.

Orc came back to report a blood trail heading almost due west, in the general direction, if Gaia followed the barrier, of the tall trees of the Stefano Rey.

Oily smoke billowed from some of the vehicles as the fire burned out the last of the gasoline and plush interiors and plastic dashboards and now down to the tires. On the lake the boats had sunk except for bits and pieces of debris. Everything smelled of fire and charred meat.

“Okay, everyone, listen, please,” Astrid said, but her voice wasn’t loud enough against the rising babble of cries and complaints and the chattering of teeth. There were only about thirty healthy kids left. Another twenty or so were either in the van or in the Winnebago, which was now making its shaky, lumbering way toward the road with Jack at the wheel.

At least seventy kids had been killed. A quarter of the population of the FAYZ. Later she would be filled with rage, but for now just sadness and defeat. These kids had endured so much. . . . To die with the end perhaps in sight . . .

Astrid realized that she and they were now almost completely defenseless. They had Orc, some guns, and some bladed weapons and baseball bats. Two dozen kids with an average age of nine, against a monster with all the powers of the FAYZ.

“Listen!” she yelled at the top of her lungs. “Listen!”

Most quieted. They turned terrified faces to her, faces lit by the fires of their homes.

“We’re going to Perdido Beach.”

“It’s dark!”

“Coyotes!”

“It’s too far!”

“Listen,” she repeated. “That thing, the gaiaphage, Gaia, she’s hurt but she’s not dead, at least I don’t think so. We have to join up with the others in town. We have to have all of our people together.”