Free Fear by Michael Grant Page A

enough to tear your way out even if we did crash.”
    “Do me a favor and rescue me, too,” Dekka said.
    “We’re fine. I have this down now,” Sam said.
    “Coyotes will totally eat us,” Jack said. “Tear our guts open and…” He fell silent.
    Sam glanced in the rearview mirror and saw Jack mouth the word “sorry.”
    Dekka sighed. “I hate when you guys do that. Stop treating me like I’m going to fall apart. Not helpful.”
    Saving Dekka’s life from the infestation of bugs had meant cutting her open. Lana had been there to heal her, but Dekka had not come through unscathed. She put on a good act, but Dekka was no longer the fearless, indestructible girl she had once seemed to be.
    That and Brianna’s obvious rejection of her had left her withdrawn, defeated. Hopeless.
    “I hope Brianna’s okay,” Jack said. “She shouldn’t be running around in the dark.”
    “As long as she sticks to the road and takes it slow she’ll be all right,” Sam said, hoping to forestall any further conversation about Brianna. Jack was extremely intelligent in areas having to do with technology. But he could be completely, steadfastly clueless when it came to humans.
    Sure enough, he stepped right in it.
    “Brianna’s been weird lately,” Jack said. “Ever since we came up to the lake. She’s like, all…”
    Sam refused to ask him to continue.
    Dekka shot a sidelong look at Sam and said, “She’s like all what, Jack?”
    “Like all… I don’t know. Like she wants to … you know…”
    “No, I don’t know,” Dekka growled. “So if you’ve got something to say, spit it out.”
    “I don’t know. Like, be friendly with me. Like, she made out with me the other day.”
    “Poor you,” Dekka said in a voice that would have frozen a more sensitive person into a block of ice.
    Jack spread his hands. “I was busy. She could see I was busy.”
    At that point Sam decided it might be a good idea to weave off the road and knock into a fence post.
    “Sam! Sam, Sam, Sam!” Jack yelled. He jerked in fear, which, because of his ridiculous strength, pushed the seat so hard Sam was smacked into the wheel.
    “Ow!” Sam stepped on the brake. “Okay, that’s enough. Do either of you two want to drive? No? Then shut up. Jeez, my head is bleeding.”
    The truck moved again and soon the wheels went from gravel to the smooth pavement of the highway. Sam drove a quarter mile down the highway, spotted a landmark, and parked on the shoulder of the road.
    “Cut across here. Right?” Sam asked.
    Dekka peered out, nodded. “Yeah, this looks right.”
    They climbed out and stretched. It was still half a mile to the shore. Half a mile across a zeke field.
    The zekes hadn’t bothered anyone since the humans and the worms had worked out the arrangement of tossing blue bats and other inedible—to humans—animals into the fields to feed the worms. But just in case, Dekka had some baggies of fish entrails and bits and pieces of raccoon and deer tendons and the like in a pack. She emptied one of these out at her feet and instantly the zekes seethed up out of the ground and swarmed over the food. But left the three of them unharmed.
    “The stuff we get used to,” Jack said, and shook his head.
    Sam said, “Listen, guys, you’ll hear about it soon enough: there’s something hinky going on with the barrier.”
    “Kinky?”
    “No, hinky. Weird.” Sam told them what he had seen.
    “Maybe it’s Sinder’s powers causing it,” Jack suggested.
    Sam nodded. “Possible. So tomorrow we’re going to have to explore a bit, see if the same thing is going on anywhere else.”
    They had crossed the fields and now had to make it through a strip of weeds and sea grasses that ran along the top of the bluff.
    It had been a while since Sam had seen the ocean. Not since they’d gone to the lake. It was black, painted with only the faintest glimmers of starlight. The moon was not out yet. The sound of the ocean had long been muted: there