The first home fire had flared in the west end of town. It sent sparks a hundred feet into the air, and Quinn was certain it would spread. It didn’t seem to, at least not quickly, but the greater glow did draw some of the people to it. They could be heard jostling and calling out to one another as they felt their way to it like moths drawn to a lightbulb.

“I wish I knew whether Sanjit was safe,” Lana said.

“I was just thinking about Edilio for some reason,” Quinn said. “Somehow I always feel like if Edilio’s still standing, we’re not totally beaten yet.” He laughed. “Weird, I guess, because I didn’t used to like him. I used to call him a wetback. Not the worst thing I ever did, I guess, but I wish I could take it back.”

Caine was resting beside them, having used his power to noisily rip some wooden doors off houses and then carry them back to feed the fire.

“It’s stupid to waste time worrying about what you did,” Caine said. “It’s not going to matter.”

“Your brother, Sam, he worries about it all the time,” Quinn said. He winced, thinking maybe that was violating a confidence. But weren’t they past all that? Past everything, in fact? Wasn’t this maybe the last peaceful conversation before the end?

“Does he?” Caine asked. “Idiot.”

So much for peaceful conversation. Caine was returning to form. Soon he’d grow tired of pretending to get along. Of course, for now he still liked the fire, as they all did. No wonder ancient man had worshiped fire. On a dark night surrounded by lions or hyenas or whatever, it must have seemed like it was more than just burning twigs.

“I’m hungry!” a voice cried out of the dark.

Quinn ignored it. It wasn’t the first such cry. It wouldn’t be the last. Not by a long shot.

Lana had been quiet for a long time. Quinn asked her whether she was okay. No answer. So he let it go. But a few minutes later Patrick came nosing against Quinn, and so he said, “Lana, I think Patrick’s starting to wonder about dinner, too.”

And again she didn’t answer. So Quinn leaned past his former king and saw Lana staring, eyes wide, into the fire.

He reached past Caine and shook her.

“What?” she snapped. Like someone awakened from a dream.

“Are you okay?”

Lana shook her head, a frown deepening the black and orange lines of her face. “None of us are okay. It’s free. Oh, my God, it finally did it.”

“What are you ranting about?” Caine snapped, irritated.

“The gaiaphage. It’s coming.”

Quinn saw Caine snap his mouth shut. He saw Caine’s eyes widen. His jaw clenched hard.

“I can feel it,” Lana said.

“Probably just—” Quinn started to say something reassuring, but Caine cut him off.

“She’s right.” He shared a strange, frightened look with Lana. “It’s changed.”

“It’s coming,” Lana said. “It’s coming!”

Quinn saw then what he never expected to see in this life: sheer terror in Lana’s eyes.

THIRTY-FIVE

4 HOURS, 6 MINUTES

THE BABY TRIED to walk. But it failed. It toppled over, legs still too weak, coordination lacking. But it wasn’t supposed to try. It shouldn’t even be born, let alone attempting to stand up.

“I’ll carry it,” Drake announced.

“No,” Penny said. “You may need your whip hand free. I will carry it. My powers don’t need me to use my hands.”

Diana could see that Drake was not happy. Not happy at all with Penny. He’d have been happier to see her die. Drake was now trapped with females he couldn’t just beat on or intimidate.

“What do we do with her?” Penny pointed at Diana with utter contempt, curling her lips at Diana’s disheveled appearance. The torn clothing barely put back together. The stains. The wounds. The weakness.

Drake’s dark discontent grew darker still. “The gaiaphage says she has to live.”

Penny snorted. “Why? Is the gaiaphage getting sentimental now that it has a girl’s body?”

“Shut up,” Drake snapped. “It’s just a body. It’s a weapon the master uses. He’s still he. He’s still what he always was.”

“Uh-huh.” Penny smirked.

Drake squatted down in front of Diana. “You’re a mess. You look like roadkill. You even stink. You’re sickening.”

“So kill me,” Diana said, meaning it. Willing him to do it. “Do it, Drake. Big man. Do it.”

Drake sighed theatrically. “Babies need milk. And you’re the cow, Diana. Moo.”

That made him laugh, and Penny, after a hesitation during which Diana saw contempt for Drake in her eyes, joined in. More terrible by far, the baby girl, Diana’s baby, grinned as well, a weird smile revealing pink gums and no teeth.

“Let’s go, cow,” Drake said.

“Are you a moron?” Diana said. “I just had a baby. I can’t—”

They hit her then, both of them, competing to see who could force her to her feet. Drake’s whip hand, Penny’s sick visions. Diana was on her feet, woozy, feeling she should vomit except that her stomach was empty.

The greenish glow of the gaiaphage—because not all of the lurid green had flowed onto or into the baby—had faded so that there was almost no light. Within a few feet they found themselves in total blackness.