Quinn frowned. “You mean, I’m selling them to you.”

“Could be,” Albert agreed. “Then I sell them to Lana. That way, Quinn, you’re doing what you do and I’m doing what I do, and to make all that work out easy peasy we need money of some kind.”

“Yeah, well, since I’m doing this all night there may not be any fish tomorrow, either,” Quinn grumbled. Then he asked the question Lana expected. “Why are you coming along, Healer?”

The use of her “title” bothered Lana; she wasn’t quite sure why. And the question on top of the title bothered her. She didn’t like the question. She shifted in her seat and stared out of the window.

“She’s coming because I need a guide,” Albert said. “And I’m going to pay her. When I get the gold. Which brings us to a little something called credit.”

Poor Albert, Lana thought as Albert launched into a lecture on the usefulness of credit. Smart kid. He’d probably end up owning the FAYZ some day. But he knew nothing of her reasons for going on this trip.

All the gold in the world wouldn’t be enough to pay her for what she was planning to do. Gold couldn’t touch the cold dread that filled her heart. And gold wouldn’t be any use to her if she failed.

“There’s more than money in the world,” Lana said, thinking she was speaking only to herself.

“Like what?” Albert asked.

“Like freedom,” Lana said.

At which point Albert went on, talking about how money could buy freedom. Lana supposed he was right, in most cases. But not in this one.

Not in this case.

She couldn’t bribe the Darkness. But maybe, maybe . . . maybe she could kill it.

Caine sat silent, biting his thumb, chewing at the ragged nail.

Panda was driving. Computer Jack was squeezed in the backseat between Diana and Bug. They were the lead car. The second car, an SUV, was behind them, Drake and four of his soldiers. All were armed.

They drove cautiously. Caine insisted on it. Panda had gotten better at driving, more confident, but he was still just thirteen. He still drove scared.

The SUV behind, urged on no doubt by Drake, practically hung on their bumper, impatient.

Down Highway 1, past abandoned businesses, weaving around crashed cars and overturned trucks. All the debris of the FAYZ, the litter left behind by all the disappeared.

They turned onto the power plant road.

“Don’t drive us off the road,” Caine cautioned. “It’s a long drop.”

“Don’t worry,” Panda said.

“Uh-huh,” Caine said. There was a cliff to the left, a hundred-foot drop to the ocean rocks below. Caine wondered if he could use his powers to stop the car falling in the event that it did topple over. That kind of thing might be worth practicing, to see if he could use his telekinetic power to suspend a falling object with him inside. It would take just the right balance.

“What was that?” Panda cried.

“What was what?”

“I saw it, too,” Diana said.

“Saw what?” Caine demanded.

“Like a blur. Like something shooting past us.”

There was silence. Then, Caine cursed. “Brianna. Faster, Panda!”

“I don’t want to run off—”

“Faster,” Caine hissed.

The walkie-talkie crackled. Drake’s voice. “You guys see that?”

Caine keyed his own set. “Yeah. Brianna. Either that or a tornado.”

“She’ll get there before us,” Diana said.

“She’s already there,” Caine agreed.

“Don’t you think maybe we should do this some other time?” Diana asked.

Caine laughed. “Just because Brianna is zipping around? I’m not worried about that girl.” It was phony bravado. Brianna “zipping around” could mean that an ambush was waiting. Or it could mean that Sam had been alerted and was already on his way.

He keyed the walkie-talkie. “Drake. They may be ready when we get there.”

“Good. I’m in the mood for a fight,” Drake answered.

Caine twisted halfway in his seat to see Diana. Her nearly bald head was distracting. It had the strange effect of focusing his attention on her eyes and lips. He winked at her. “Drake’s not worried.”

Diana said nothing.

“You worried, Panda?” Caine asked. Panda was too terrified to answer. His fingers were white from gripping the wheel.

“Nobody’s worried but you, Diana,” Caine said.

Caine hadn’t asked Jack. He was going to be careful with Jack for a while. At least until the computer genius had given him what he needed.

“Coming up on the gate,” Bug said.

There was a brick guardhouse beside a tall chain-link fence. Lights were blazing everywhere. Spotlights atop the guardhouse, trained down along the fence line in both directions. And beyond the gate the vast bulk of the power plant itself, humming, vibrating, a sinister presence in the night. It was bigger than Caine had imagined, and was comprised of several buildings, the largest of which looked like a prison. It could almost be a small city of its own. The parking lot was half full of cars, glittering in the glow.

“There’s Brianna!” Caine cried, and pointed at the girl, doubled over, clutching the fence, tugging ineffectually at it. She glanced back fearfully at them, face blue-white in the headlights. She shouted something that Caine did not hear.

In obvious frustration she rattled the chain link, unable to open it, unable, it seemed, to get the attention of anyone in the guardhouse. If anyone even was in the guardhouse.