“Oh, Carl,” he said softly, staring at the spot. “You poor bastard. I’m sorry. So sorry…”

A lump formed in his throat. A good, simple man was gone. Jack had known him just a couple of days, but he’d come to respect him. He still didn’t know what had gone wrong with Carl’s right arm, but that didn’t matter. Carl hadn’t let it stop him from leading a useful life. He’d adjusted, with no apologies, no excuses.

A bullet whizzed by Jack and he realized he was a sitting duck out here.

My fault, he thought as he quickly waded ashore. If I hadn’t bribed him to take me to the lagoon, if I’d just said no tonight when he wanted to come along, he’d still be alive. Probably be sitting in his trailer right now watching his TV.

My fault. But not all my fault.

It’s Semelee…she’s controllin them.

Right. Semelee.

Jack reached the bank and climbed up onto the mud. He looked toward the cenote and saw maybe twenty of the winged things clustered over the opening. As he watched, they began to fan out and glide toward him.

His blood cooled at the sight. No way he and Dad could bring them all down, even standing back to back with shotguns. Some of them would get through. And once they got you down, you were finished.

Couldn’t stop the winged things…but maybe he could stop the one controlling them.

With the things trailing him, Jack ran back to where his father was still firing at the boats. He heard cheering from the decks as the clan spotted the winged things on Jack’s tail. They didn’t shoot. Probably thought it would be more fun to watch him get gobbled up like Anya.

“Behind me, Dad! Incoming!”

Dad was crouched behind a tree, with the trunk between him and the boats. Jack dove for the ground, sliding through the mud on his belly as his father looked around.

“Where?”

“Right behind me!”

Lightning flashed and he saw his father’s jaw drop.

“Dear God! What are—?”

“Don’t talk, shoot!”

And shoot he did, pumping round after round out of the Mossberg into the air behind Jack. Jack didn’t look around to see what effect he was having. He assumed it was about as good as it got. He laid the Benelli across Dad’s knees for when the Mossberg ran dry, then seated himself back to back with his father and turned to theBull-ship . If Semelee was anywhere, that would be the place.

He wiped the rain from his eyes and took aim at the superstructure. The big Casulls would rip through it, in one plywood side wall and out the other. He couldn’t be sure he’d hit Semelee, but at least he could distract her…

9

This was so hard…

Semelee crouched in the dark of the cabin and pressed the shells tighter against her eyes. The chew wasps hadn’t wanted to leave the sinkhole until the sun was down, but she’d forced them. She’d tried that yesterday and it hadn’t worked, but this time she was able to coax them up. Maybe it was the storm or the night like darkness up here. Whatever the reason, they came. But so slowly…like only one or two at a time.

Then, once she got them outta the hole, she could barely see. Had to be because of the sun. Even though it was hidden behind mountains of storm clouds, it was still above the horizon; she guessed that whatever was filterin through was enough to affect the eyes of the chew wasps.

But she’d been able to see Carl who was right close to the hole and shootin at the boats. Traitor to his kin! She set a couple of the wasps on him, then went back to draggin others up.

Suddenly one of the ones on Carl got blowed up. And then the other. She seen it was Jack doin the shootin, and though she didn’t hate him like before, she couldn’t let this stand. She had to end it between them. One of them had to go. Semelee preferred Jack.

She had a whole bunch of the chew wasps up by then but couldn’t get them organized. They wanted to go here and there and it was just about all she could do to keep them together. Jack blasted a couple of them out of the air and then got four more with a grenade in the hole as she was pushin them up.

She had to attack with what she had, but couldn’t get the swarm to move. She could control one of them, though, so she sent it after Jack. Somehow it wound up on Carl instead. The wasps seemed attracted to sound and movement, and Carl had been makin plenty of both.

But she didn’t have to send Dora after Carl when he went in the water—Dora did that on her own.

goodbye, Carl.

Finally she’d got the swarm to move. She didn’t know why she suddenly had more control. Maybe cause the sun got closer to settin while she was chasin Jack. Didn’t know, didn’t care, all she knew now was she was on the hunt. And though her stomach turned at the thought of havin to go through another chew-up with these things, it had to be done. The survival of the whole clan depended on her stoppin Jack and whoever was with him—probably his daddy.

As she guided the wasps after the runnin Jack, she heard the guys on the deck start to yellin. She wished they’d shut up. The chew wasps kept wantin to turn toward the noise. The voices pulled at them. She had to keep forcin them to stay on Jack’s trail.

Suddenly a piece of the wall exploded and showered her with splinters as something whizzed by her head. She was already crouched on the floor in a corner. Now she dropped flat, and just in time too. Another big bullet smashed through the cabin, low this time, just about singeing her butt.

He’s tryin to kill me!

She had to move those chew wasps in on Jack and his daddy. Now!

The old man was shotgunnin them, so Semelee split the swarm into two groups. She veered one left over the water, and the other around back. She’d catch em in the middle and—

A third big slug blasted into the cabin then, but this one didn’t go all the way through. It plowed into one of the benches of the picnic table and sent it flyin against her. She cried out as it conked her on the head. She didn’t think—she put her hands up to protect herself and dropped the eye-shells.

“Oh no!” She started feelin around on the floorboards, real frantic like. But it was so dark in here. “Where’d they go?”

She couldn’t control the chew wasps without em. They’d all go flyin back to the sinkhole if she wasn’t there to hold them.

Or maybe they wouldn’t.

Semelee wasn’t sure which would be worse.

10

“Jack!” Dad shouted. “Look!”

Jack was reloading the Ruger, readying to riddle theBull-ship ’s superstructure with a few more Casulls. He’d been leaning against his father’s back, getting rocked forward whenever Dad’s shotgun went off, rocking back with the recoil from the Ruger.

He half turned, not sure of what he’d heard. His ears were ringing from the thunder and the booms of the weapons.

“What?”

“Those things. They were all clustered together at first, then they started dividing into two groups, and now…”

Jack turned further and squinted through the rain. He watched for a moment as the cenote things buzzed around in disarray, practically bumping into one another in midair. It looked like they didn’t know where they were, but the men from the boats were still cheering them on.

One of the things veered out over the water; two more followed it; then the whole swarm was making a beeline for the boats. Suddenly the cheering stopped, replaced a couple of heartbeats later by the reports of rifles and shotguns. Jack saw the clan knock a few down, but then the swarm was upon them. The shooting stopped, replaced by screams of pain and panic.