Gone (Gone #1)(68)

He remembered with vivid, slow-motion detail the time he had shot Holden, the neighbor's kid who liked to come over and annoy him-That had been a bullet to the thigh, with a low-caliber gun and still, the kid had nearly died. That "accident" had landed Drake at Coates—

He was holding a nine-millimeter Glock right now, less powerful than his father's tbrty-caliber Smith & Wesson, but a lot more gun than the target twenty-two he'd used on Holden.

One shot would do it. One for the snooty blonde, one for the retard. That would be cook He would come back, give his report to Caine, and say, "Two targets, two rounds" That would wipe the smirk off Diana's face,

Astrid's house was not far. But the trick would be to get her before her little brother used the power to disappear again—

Drake hated the power. There was only one reason why

Caine and not Drake was running the show: Caine's powers.

But Caine understood that the kids with powers had to be controlled. And once Caine and Diana had all the freaks under control, what was to stop Drake from using his own nine millimeters of magic to tak* it all for himselt?

First things first.

He stared at Astrid's house from halfway down the block. Looking for any sign of which room she might be in.

He crept around to the back and up onto the back porch. The door was locked. Anyone vvho locked their back door locked their front door. But maybe not their windows. He hopped up onto the deck railing and leaned out to get a purchase on the window. It slid up easily. It was not an easy thing getting through the window without making a lot of noise.

It took him ten minutes to go through every room in ihe house, look in every closet, under every bed, behind every curtain, even look into the attic <rawl spaces.

He felt a moment of panic then. Astrid could be anywhere. He would look like a fool if he dkin't get her.

Where would she go?

He checked the garage. Nothing there. No cars, certainly no Astrid. But there was a lawnmower, and where there was a lawnmower, there would be ... yes, a gas can.

He wondered what would happen if Astrid and the retard magicked their way into a burning building?

Drake opened the gas can, went to the kitchen, and began drizzling the gasoline across the counters, into the family room, a splash for the drapes, trailing into the dining room, across the table, and another splash for the front curtains.

He couldn't find a match. He tore a piece of paper towel and lit it on the stove. He tossed the burning twist of paper onto the dining room table and left by ihe front door, not bothering to close it.

"That's one place she won't be able to hide" he told himself

He raced back to the plaza and up the stairs of the church. The church had a steeple. It wasn't very talk but it would give him a pretty good perspective.

Up the circular stairs. He pushed a hinged hatch and climbed up into a cramped, dusty cobwebbed space dominated by a bell. He Carefully avoided touching the bell—the sound would carry.

The windows were shuttered, covered with angled vents that let airllow through and sound resonate out, but only allowed him to see down. He used the butt of the rifle to knock the first vent out. It tumblec to the ground below.

Kids in the plaza looked up. Let them. He smashed the other three vents out and they clattered down. Now he had an unrestricted view in every direction across the orange tile roofs of Perdido Beach.

He started from Astrid's house, which was already beginning to smoke. He worked his way methodically, a hunter, looking for any movement. Each :ime he spotted someone walking or running or biking, he would take a look at them through the rifle scope, line them up in the crosshairs.

He fell like God. All he had to do was squeeze the trigger.

But none of the moving shapes far below was Astrid.

There was no way to miss that blond hair. No. No Astrid.

Then, just as he was giving up, he spotted a flurry of activity down at the marina. He swivded the scope> and suddenly Sam Temple was clear in the bright circle. For a moment the sights were on his chest. But then he was gone. He had jumped onto a boat.

Impossible. Caine had Sam up at the school. How had he gotten away?

Edilio and Quinn were on the boat too> pulling away Drake could see the water churning from the motor.

Quinn. That's how Sam had gotten away. It had to be.

Drake would have to have a nice talk with Quinn.

On ihe dock he could make out Ore waving a bat, yelling, unable to do anything. The boat gathered speed and arced north, leaving a long white wake drawn like an arrow on the water.

There was no question Sam would try to find Astrid. And he was heading north.

The power plant. Had to be.

Drake cursed and, again, for just a moment, felt the almost desperate tear of failing Caine. He wasn't worried what Caine would do to him—after all, Caine needed him—but he knew if he failed to carry out Caine's orders, Diana would laugh.

Drake put down the rifle. How could he reach the power plant ahead of Sam?

There was no way. Even if he took a boat he would be playing catch-up. A car? Maybe. But he didn't know the way and the trip by boat would be more direct. It would take him a while to get down to the marina and . .. but, wait. Wait a minute.

The motorboat was pulling a U-turn, "Aren't you clever, Sam?*' Drake whispered. "But not clever enough."

Through the scope he could just make out Sam's face as he stood at the wheel, wind in his face, having escaped from Caine, having outwitted Ore, and low all cocky and sure of himself as he sped south.