Plague Page 89

“I asked you so many times to release me, Sam,” she said. Her voice was cold and far away. Not angry, not scared. Just maybe a little sad.

“I know, Brittney. But I’m not a cold-blooded killer,” Sam said.

Brittney nodded. “No, you’re a good person.” She said it without sarcasm.

“I try to be. Like you, Brittney. I know you’re a good person.”

He glanced at the creatures. They hadn’t moved, but they were alert. They could be on him in ten seconds.

“He hates you,” Brittney said.

“Drake?” Sam laughed. “He hates everyone. Hate is all he’s got.”

“Not Drake. Him. God.”

Sam blinked. What was he supposed to say to that? “I thought God loved everyone.”

“I used to believe that, too,” Brittney said. “But then I met Him.”

“Did you?” She had lost whatever grip on reality she’d had. He couldn’t blame her. What Brittney had endured would leave anyone mental.

“He’s not in the sky, you know,” Brittney said in a normal, conversational tone. “He’s not up in Heaven somewhere.”

“I didn’t realize that.”

“He’s in the earth, Sam. He lives in a dark, dark place.”

Sam’s heart missed a beat. He felt cold. “You met God in a dark place?”

She showed her twisted, damaged braces in a surprising, rapturous smile. “He explained His great plan.”

“Yeah?”

“His time is coming. All of this . . .” She swept her arm wide. “It’s all like, like . . . like an egg, Sam. He has to be born from this egg.”

“He’s a chicken?”

“Don’t mock, Sam,” Brittney chided. “He waits to be born. But He needs Nemesis to join Him, Sam, and you . . . you won’t let that happen.”

“Nemesis? What’s a nemesis?”

Brittney had a crafty look as she said, “Oh, Sam. You know who Nemesis is. He has the power to complete God’s plan.” She laced her fingers together, almost awestruck by the act, like it was sacrament. “They must be joined, the Darkness and Nemesis. Together they will have all power, and then, Sam, it all ends, you know. Then the eggshell cracks and He is born.”

“That sounds . . .” He resisted the urge to say “crazy.” “It sounds interesting. But I don’t think the gaiaphage is God. I think he’s evil.”

“Of course he’s evil,” Brittney enthused. “Of course! Evil, good, there’s no difference, don’t you see that? They’re the same thing. Like me and Drake. Yin and yang, Sam. Two in one, a duality, a . . .”

She faltered a little, like a child trying to explain something she didn’t quite understand. She frowned.

“He lied to you, Brittney. The gaiaphage is not God. He reaches into people’s minds and makes them do terrible things.”

“He warned me you would say that,” Brittney said. “My Lord and Nemesis must be joined. And all of you have to die. You’re all like a disease. Like a virus. A plague that must be wiped out so that He can unite with Nemesis and be born.”

Sam was getting tired of the talk. He’d never cared much for religion one way or the other, and some fantasy religion made up by a dead girl to justify the gaiaphage’s lies was even less interesting than Astrid’s religious excuses for not having sex. He was impatient to find out what Brittney meant to do. If there was to be a fight, then let there be a fight.

“And then what, Brittney? Did the gaiaphage explain that to you?”

“Then all the world will be remade. That’s His purpose, you know.”

“No, I didn’t know. I guess I missed that part. I was still back at the part where he has to kill everyone.”

“He was forged by a race of gods in the far reaches of space to remake the world, to create it anew.”

“Yeah, well, that sounds just a tiny bit insane, Brittney.”

She smiled. “It’s all insane, Sam. All of it. But He will make it all over again. Once He is born anew.”

Sam felt tired. He wished Astrid were here, maybe she could find out more. Maybe she could talk Brittney out of her lunatic delusion. But he wasn’t Astrid.

“I’ll tell you what,” Sam said. “If your friend in the mine shaft wants me, he can bring it on. Because he’s tried. And I’m still here.”

“Not for long,” Brittney said. “Do you think these creatures just happened on their own? The Lord has molded them, created them to be indestructible, so that you could not stop them, Sam.”

“I’m sorry for what’s happened to you, Brittney,” Sam said. “You’ve been abused about as much as any person ever has been. But I’m still going to have to stop you.” He raised his hands, palms out. “Sorry.”

Twin beams of green fire hit Brittney in the chest. They burned a hole through her.

The bugs leaped, raced to cover the few feet between them and the dock.

“Jack! Dekka!” Sam yelled.

Jack punched straight up through the planks of the deck, but he’d picked a bad spot. He erupted between Brittney and Sam, blocking Sam’s fire.

Brittney screamed, “Kill them!”

Jack tripped, which moved him out of the line of fire. Sam aimed and hit Brittney again but now she was running away. Her back melted, her spine exposed then burned through, and still she ran.