Earthquake by Kathleen Duey Page B

made them both turn to look. The flames were flashing from the walls of smoke now. It was hard to tell exactly where the fires were—but they were spreading, growing into a solid line that advanced steadily.
    â€œI not have home.”
    Brendan heard the desolation in her voice—and he recognized it. “I felt that way when my pa died. But it works out.”
    Dai Yue turned without speaking and started walking again. Her long trousers were torn and soiled. Although she took small steps, she walked quite fast.
    Brendan had to run a little to catch up. “It does get better, Dai Yue. You will start to figure out your own life.”
    She looked up at him.
    â€œI mean you will decide what you want to do.”
    Dai Yue shook her head. “I want nothing.”
    Brendan made his way around a pile of crumbled brick. “You won’t feel that way forever.”
    Dai Yue didn’t respond. She began to walk faster. Brendan could feel a little breeze starting up behind them. He glanced back toward the fires. If the wind came up, they would spread even faster. He could see the Fairmont Hotel off to the right. It looked even bigger than it usually did because so many of the buildings that stood around it had collapsed.
    Brendan lengthened his stride a little, to keep up with Dai Yue. His legs felt heavy. It was hard to continue putting one foot in front of the other. He tried to swallow, feeling the dryness of his throat and the emptiness of his belly. His hunger was painful.
    It had been a long time since he had been this hungry. He hated it. It reminded him of that first awful year after his father had died. He had been nine and scrawny. No one had wanted to hire him. Old manHansen had caught him going through a trash barrel and had put him to work sweeping floors.
    Dai Yue was still walking fast. She looked so sad that Brendan wished he could think of something to say to her. But what? He knew what she was feeling, and he knew that a few words wouldn’t help. The bandage on his head had loosened. He unwound it, then touched his temple. The bleeding had stopped. He let the bloody strip of Dai Yue’s tunic fall from his hand.
    Behind them, a sudden clatter of hooves rang out on the cobblestones. Brendan heard someone shout, curse. A soldier on horseback was forcing his way through the crowd. He spurred his mount forward as people pushed each other, trying to get out of his way.
    When the soldier neared the corner he reined in and dismounted. Brendan watched him pull a sheet of paper and a hammer from a pouch tied to his saddle. Clenching nails in his teeth, he hung the sign from the wooden pole that supported the electrical wires.
    Brendan pulled Dai Yue with him as he veered to join the group of men who stood in a loose half circle in front of the notice the soldier was posting.
    â€œThis is crazy,” a man said from in front of Brendan.
    â€œIt makes Schmitz king of the city,” another put in.
    A third man was shaking his head. “Schmitz is a good mayor. He’s only doing what he has to.”
    The first two men moved away so that others could see. Brendan stepped up, waiting his turn. The soldier was remounting, his horse stamping impatiently, eager to be free of the press of people. Two more men finished reading. Now Brendan could see the notice:
    PROCLAMATION
    By The Mayor
    The FEDERAL TROOPS, the members of the REGULAR POLICE FORCE, and all SPECIAL POLICE OFFICERS have been authorized by me to kill any and all persons found engaged in LOOTING or in the COMMISSION of ANY OTHER CRIME.
    I have directed all the GAS and ELECTRIC LIGHTING COMPANIES not to turn on GAS or ELECTRICITY until I order them to do so. You may therefore expect the city to remain in darkness for an indefinite time period.
    I request all citizens to remain at home from darkness until daylight every night until order is restored.
    I warn all CITIZENS of the danger of fire from DAMAGED or DESTROYED CHIMNEYS,