Lies: A Gone Novel by Michael Grant Page A

was Sam.
    It wasn’t. It was Taylor.
    â€œI didn’t think you walked through doorways, Taylor,” Astrid said. She regretted the edgy tone in her voice. By now the news that Sam had moved out would have spread throughout the town. Juicy personal gossip moved at the speed of light in Perdido Beach. And there was no bigger item of gossip than a breakup between the first couple of the FAYZ.
    â€œI know how cranky you get when I pop in,” Taylor said.
    â€œIt is a little unsettling,” Astrid said.
    Taylor spread her hands placatingly. “See? That’s why I walked in.”
    â€œNext you could work on knocking.”
    Astrid and Taylor didn’t like each other much. But Taylor was an extremely valuable person to have around. She hadthe ability to instantly transport herself from place to place. To “bounce,” as she called it.
    The enmity between them went back to Astrid’s belief that Taylor had a crush of major proportions on Sam. No doubt Taylor would figure she had a golden opportunity now.
    Not Sam’s type , Astrid told herself. Taylor was pretty but a bit younger, and not nearly tough enough for Sam, who, despite what he might be thinking right now, liked strong, independent girls.
    Brianna would be more Sam’s style, probably. Or maybe Dekka, if she were straight.
    Astrid shoved the list away irritably. Why was she torturing herself like this? Sam was a jerk. But he would come around. He would realize sooner or later that Astrid was right. He would apologize. And he’d move back in.
    â€œWhat is it you want, Taylor?”
    â€œIs Sam here?”
    â€œI’m head of the council, and you’ve just come bursting in and interrupting my work, so if you have something to say, why don’t you just say it to me?”
    â€œMeeooow,” Taylor mocked her. “Cranky much?”
    â€œTaylor.”
    â€œKid says he saw Whip Hand.”
    Astrid’s eyes narrowed. “What?”
    â€œYou know Frankie?”
    â€œWhich one?”
    â€œThe one who’s a boy. He says he saw Drake Merwin walking along the beach.”
    Astrid stared at her. The mere mention of Drake Merwin gave Astrid chills. Drake was—had been—a boy who proved all by himself that you didn’t have to be an adult to be evil. Drake had been Caine’s number one henchman. He had kidnapped Astrid. Forced her with threats, with sheer terror, to ridicule her own brother to his face.
    He had burned down Astrid’s house.
    He had also whipped Sam so badly that Sam had almost died.
    Astrid did not believe in hate. She believed in forgiveness. But she had not forgiven Drake. Even with him dead, she had not forgiven him.
    She hoped there was a hell. A real hell, not some metaphorical one, so that Drake could be there now, burning for all eternity.
    â€œDrake’s dead,” Astrid said evenly.
    â€œYeah,” Taylor agreed. “I’m just telling you what Frankie is saying. He’s saying he saw him, whip hand and all, walking down the beach, covered with mud and dirt and wearing clothes that didn’t fit.”
    Astrid sighed. “This is what happens when little kids get into the alcohol.”
    â€œHe seemed sober,” Taylor said. She shrugged. “I don’t know if he was drunk or crazy or just making trouble, Astrid, so don’t blame me. This is supposed to be my job, right? I keep my eyes open and come tell Sam—or you—what’s up.”
    â€œWell, thanks,” Astrid said.
    â€œI’ll tell Sam when I see him,” Taylor said.
    Asrid knew Taylor was trying to provoke her, and yet it worked: she was provoked. “Tell him anything you want, it’s still a free…” She had started to say country . “You’re free to say whatever you like to Sam.”
    But Taylor had already bounced away, and Astrid was talking to air.

ELEVEN
47 HOURS, 53 MINUTES
    THE PERDIDO BEACH Anomaly, that’s