Guilt was a fascinating thing: it seemed not to weaken over time. If anything it grew stronger as the circumstances faded from memory, as the fear and the necessity became abstract. And only her own actions stood out with crystal clarity.

Ah. Yeah, that would be better. Have you ever driven a bus?" Caine shook his head. "No, I have not." "Strangely enough," Sam said, remembering the long ago moment of terror and competence that had earned him the nicknames School Bus Sam, "I have.

Then what happens? Diana demanded “Then were hit with massive doeses of radiation. It’s invisible, but its like someone is shooting tiny bullets at you. They blow millions of tiny holes through your body. You get sick. Your hair falls out. You vomit. You die

Sometimes I think He looks down and says, "Wow, look what those idiots are up to now. I guess I better help them along a little.

Oh, Snap," I say. "What?" "Sorry. I was flashing back to 2005.

No," Lana said, "I'm not going to heal your scratch." "Good," Sanjit said. "Good? Why good?" "Because when you hold my hand, I don't want it to be work for you.

Things will be different this time," Caine said. "There was too much contention, too much violence the last time. I tried to be a peaceful leader. But thing went badly." "I wonder why," Diana muttered. "These people," Caine said grandly, sweeping his arm towards the town, "need more than a leader. They need...a king.