“He’s a killer!” Zil cried suddenly, smacking his fist into his palm.

“A freak! A mutant!” he cried. “And we know what they’re like, right? They always have enough food. They run everything. They’re in charge and we’re all starving. Is that some kind of coincidence? No way.”

“Na troo,” Hunter moaned again.

“Take him!” Zil cried to Antoine and Hank. “Take him, the murdering mutant scum!”

They seized Hunter by the arms. He could walk, but only by dragging one leg. They half carried, half marched him across the plaza. They dragged him up the church steps.

“Now,” Zil said, “here is how we’re going to do this.” He waved his hand toward the rope that Lance was unspooling back through the plaza.

An expectant pause. A dangerous, giddy feeling. The smell of the meat had them all crazy. Zil could feel it.

“You all want some of this delicious venison?”

They roared their assent.

“Then you’ll all grab on to the rope.”

A dozen or more kids leaped forward to seize the rope. Others hesitated. Glanced toward the church. Glanced toward Hunter being held by Zil’s crew.

Lance had tied a noose.

Hank now pushed it down over Hunter’s head and tightened it around his neck.

But there was a disturbance in the crowd. Someone was pushing through. Kids were yelling at the intruder. There was shoving. But finally Astrid appeared, disheveled, flushed, furious. She wasn’t hauling a wagon anymore. And she didn’t have John with her, which was good, Zil thought: Mary and John were popular. A lot of these kids had little brothers and sisters at the day care.

Astrid was a different story. She was tied to Sam, and a lot of kids thought she was too full of her own self. Plus, she had her creepy little brother with her. And no one liked him. Rumor had it that he was some kind of powerful freak himself. But was too retarded to do anything much about it.

Waste of time keeping a retard alive when humans were starving.

“Stop this!” Astrid cried. “Stop this now!”

Zil looked down at her. He was almost surprised to realize that he was not intimidated by her. Astrid the Genius. Sam’s girlfriend. One of the three or four most important people in the FAYZ.

But Zil had the power of the crowd behind him. He felt it in his heart and soul, like a drug that made him all-powerful. Invincible and unafraid.

“Go away, Astrid,” he said. “We don’t like traitors here.”

“Oh? And how do we feel about thugs? How do we feel about murder?” She was really very pretty, Zil noticed. Much hotter than Lisa. And now that he was taking over . . .

“We’re here to execute a murderer,” Zil said, pointing at Hunter. “We are bringing justice in the name of all normals.”

“There’s no justice without a trial,” Astrid said.

Zil grinned. He spread his hands. “We had a trial, Astrid. And this chud scum was found guilty of murdering a normal.

“The penalty,” he added, “is death.”

Astrid turned to face the mob. “If you do this, you’ll never forgive yourselves.”

“We’re hungry,” a voice cried, and was immediately echoed by others.

“You’re going to murder a boy in a church?” Astrid demanded, pointing toward the church. “A church? In God’s house?”

Zil could see that those words had an effect. There were some nervous looks.

“You will never wash the stain of this off your hands,” Astrid cried. “If you do this, you will never be able to forget it. What do you think your parents would say?”

“There are no parents in the FAYZ. No God, either,” Zil said. “There’s just humans trying to stay alive, and freaks taking everything for themselves. And you, Astrid, are all about helping the freaks. Why? I really wonder why?”

He was starting to genuinely enjoy this. It was great fun to see pretty, smart Astrid looking helpless.

“You know what I think, people?” Zil said. “I think maybe Astrid has some powers she hasn’t told anyone about. Or else . . .” He paused for dramatic effect. “Or else it’s the little retard who has the powers.”

He saw the fear dawn on her face. Righteous anger surrendering to fear.

So smart, so quick, Astrid was. So dumb, too, Zil thought.

“I think,” Zil said, “we may have another couple of freaks at our little picnic.”

“No,” Astrid whispered.

“Hank,” Zil said, and nodded.

Astrid turned too late to see Hank behind her. He swung. Astrid felt the blow as if it had hit her.

It hit Little Pete.

He fell like a marionette with the strings cut.

“Now!” Zil said. “Grab her.”

Diana could hardly believe it. They had moved quickly, easily up the side of the hill overlooking the power plant and had found the fuel rod.

It had not been hard to find. A fire had started in the dry brush where it hit. Just a low, scurrying fire. Caine was able to pluck the fuel rod up with ease and hold it high in the air.

Jack stood beneath the fuel rod, sweating from the heat, sweating too from fear, Diana guessed. The only light came from the fire.

“I don’t see anything popped or broken,” Jack said. He pulled something that looked like a yellow remote control out of his pocket and stared at it.

“What’s that?”

“It’s a dosimeter,” Jack said. He thumbed a switch. Diana heard an irregular clicking sound. Click. Clickclick. Click. Clickclickclick.