“Sadly, no,” Dekka said.

From shore they heard Drake bellowing in outrage, then: “Get them! Go!”

The creatures responded instantly. They rushed to the water’s edge. It was almost impossible for Sam to see them as living creatures, they seemed more like robots. Insects simply were not that big. Couldn’t be that big.

They rushed in a swarm to the water. And kept running straight in.

“They float,” Jack said. “That’s bad.”

“Yeah, but they can’t swim very well,” Sam pointed out. He threw the engine into reverse and chug-chugged slowly back to a safer distance. The creatures had stopped rushing into the water. Those that could reach bottom scurried ignominiously back to dry land. Two of the creatures floated like unmoored rafts, or like trailers caught in a flood, twisting slowly, helpless.

Then one of the creatures on shore opened its wings. Beneath the hard carapace were wings like a dragonfly’s.

“They can’t actually fly, can they?” Dekka wondered.

The creature lifted off. It was awkward and slow. But it flew.

It flew toward the boat.

“Go back to camp after you off-load the catch,” Quinn instructed his crews. “I’ll catch up with you later. And if I don’t . . . well, keep up the routine.”

He felt worried eyes following him as he walked down the dock. There was one motorboat that still had a few gallons of fuel. They had designated it for emergency use only. He supposed this was emergency enough.

“You coming?” Quinn asked Brianna.

She shook her head. “I can’t beat these things, but I can at least fight them.”

“What if he won’t come?” Quinn asked.

“He’ll come. It will be his big moment.”

“Will he be able to stop these creatures?”

“How would I know?” Brianna demanded. “It wasn’t my idea. I’m not the one saying we should bring him back. Maybe he and Drake will go back to being best buddies. How would I know?”

“Well, I guess Edilio thinks Caine can save us.”

Neither of them spoke for a while, both thinking of Edilio, wondering if he would survive. Right from the start Edilio had been one of the good guys. Probably the best of them.

He and Mary: two selfless, loyal, decent people. One dead after betraying everything and everyone. The other maybe dying right now, ignored and alone.

“One more question for you, Brianna. It’s serious. So don’t just give me your automatic tough-chick answer, okay? Because I want the truth.”

“Yeah?”

“Can you beat Caine? If he starts in with his usual, starts pushing people around, hurting them . . . Can you take him?”

He saw the beginnings of a cocky smile. But then she dropped the act, sighed, and said, “I don’t know, Quinn.”

Still he hesitated. He didn’t want to go. And he knew why. “Everybody kind of likes me now because I fish. I have this thing I do, right, and it’s necessary and so people respect me.” He sighed and unwound the motorboat’s rope from its cleat. “Now I’ll be the guy who brought Caine back.”

Brianna nodded. “Sucks to be you. Sucks worse to be me.”

Impulsively, Quinn hugged her. Like a brother. She didn’t return the gesture, but she didn’t blur away either.

“Hang in there, Breeze.”

“You too, Fisherman.”

Quinn stepped down into the boat. Brianna was out of sight before he could fire the engine.

He headed out of the marina, chugging along slowly until he was away. Then he pushed the throttle to full speed and pointed the bow toward the distant island.

Astrid looked around, wondering where they were and where they were going. Orc seemed to have someplace in mind. But he also seemed confused. They were in an area of tangled woods and sharp, sudden, brush-choked valleys.

“Are you taking us to Coates?” Astrid asked.

“Yeah,” Orc answered.

“Why there?”

“You wanted to get away, right?”

“I want my brother to be somewhere safe,” Astrid said, conscious of the hypocrisy.

“It’s safe there,” Orc said.

“How do you know?”

“It’s a secret,” Orc grumbled. “I mean, there’s no one there. None of those kids anyway. Caine and all them guys.”

“What if Drake goes there?”

Orc shrugged, which caused Little Pete’s head to fall from his shoulder and loll back. “If Drake’s there, I’ll take care of him.”

Astrid stepped quickly to catch up with Orc. She put her hand on his shoulder. He slowed down and moved aside so she could walk beside him.

“Are you looking for Drake?” Astrid asked. “Because I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I don’t care about Drake,” Orc said angrily. “I had enough of him. But I have to be away from town. Where else am I going to go?”

Astrid felt sure that was part of the truth. But not all of it.

“Thanks for helping us,” she said. “But you don’t have to stay away from town. It’s not your fault Drake escaped.”

“Didn’t say it was.”

“Then why?”

Orc said nothing, just walked on heavily, stone feet trampling the undergrowth like some undersized Godzilla. Then, “This kid,” he said.

“What kid?”

“This kid, this little kid, was all sick or whatever, and I was . . . I guess I was drunk.”