Fear (Gone, #5)

by Michael Grant

“I wish I knew whether Sanjit was safe,” Lana said. “I was just thinking about Edilio for some reason,” Quinn said. “Somehow I always feel like if Edilio’s still standing, we’re not totally beaten yet.” He laughed. “Weird, I guess, because I didn’t used to like him. I used to call him a wetback. Not the worst thing I ever did, I guess, but I wish I could take it back.” Caine was resting beside them, having used his power to noisily rip some wooden doors off houses and then carry them back to feed the fire. “It’s stupid to waste time worrying about what you did,” Caine said. “It’s not going to matter.” “Your brother, Sam, he worries about it all the time,” Quinn said. He winced, thinking maybe that was violating a confidence. But weren’t they past all that? Past everything, in fact? Wasn’t this maybe the last peaceful conversation before the end? “Does he?” Caine asked. “Idiot.”