Gone

“‘No way, man,’ Quinn said. ‘Every adult and older kid in the whole school just disappeared. That makes no sense.’

‘It’s not just the school,’ Astrid said. [...]

‘My mom,’ Sam said.

‘Man, stop this,’ Quinn said. ‘All right? It’s not funny.’

For the first time Sam felt the edge of panic, like a tingling at the base of his spine. His heart was thumping in his chest, laboring as if he’d been running.”

An underlying repetition of impossibilities starts as the three characters realize the truth about their missing families. Quinn stating that it makes no sense describes the mysterious, uneasy tone threaded throughout the novel, as readers and characters are curious for answers and reasons. The description of Sam’s physical stress is realistic and adds specific sensory details for immersion.

“He was scared. And he was mad, too. Where were the people who were supposed to do this? Where were the adults? Why was this up to him? He was just a kid. And why hadn’t anyone else been crazy enough, stupid enough to rush into a burning building?”

Themes of fear and responsibility appear in Sam’s internal thoughts. He is the only one with a sense of duty to save the little girl in the burning building, but he is afraid and irritated, as these heavy burdens shouldn’t be put on kids but given to trained adults. Sam’s blunt, upset tone also shows his stressful state and his feelings of inadequacy and uncertainty in the face of danger, especially when a child’s life is at stake.

“‘But it’s okay to be scared, man. Every single person here is scared.’

It was happening a lot. Kids coming to Sam, asking him questions for which he had no answers.

He wished they would stop.”

The theme of fear is straightforwardly told in dialogue when Sam tries to comfort a younger kid. By recognizing the fear, Sam can work to overcome it. His characterization is also deepened when he admits he doesn’t want the leadership or responsibility others expect.

“It did not look opaque, but whatever light came through, it was milky, indistinct, and no brighter than their surroundings. The wall was slightly reflective, like looking into a frost-glass window. It made no sound. It did not vibrate. It seemed almost to swallow sound.

It could be just a membrane, Sam thought. [...]

The barrier went up and up, but faded against the background of the sky. It extended as far as they could see to the left and right. No stars shone through it, but eventually, farther up, the stars reappeared.”

Grant’s description of the wall uses sensory details, even sound, to create a picture in readers’ minds. His worldbuilding relies on descriptions and details that play to the senses, making an unusual world come to life with the specifics, such as height, width, texture, and colors.

“Listen, you little worm. If I don’t take care of these kids, they’ll die. Do you understand that? There are babies in there who need to be fed and need to be changed, and I seem to be the only one who realizes it.”

Mary’s dialogue with Howard shows her fearlessness. She works tirelessly to care for the children, fighting to keep them alive. The themes of Survival, Leadership, and Responsibility are entwined in Mary’s fierce, candid words.

“‘I got a partial read, so I’m not sure,’ [Diana said.]

Caine spread his fingers in exasperation. ‘Why am I begging for information here? Just tell me.’

‘She’s on about two bars.’

‘Any idea what her powers may be? Lighter? Speeder? Chameleon? Not another Dekka, I hope. She was difficult. And hopefully not a Reader, like you, Diana.’”

Worldbuilding is made from not only specific sensory details, but structures and vocabulary with terms like Lighter and Speeder. Diana and Caine explain to readers that they have certain terms for superheroes with specific powers. The power-level measuring known as bars further establishes worldbuilding.

“Quinn spread his hands wide in an expression of aggrieved innocence. ‘What have I been saying? That’s the way it is: you’re different, you get to be the victim. You try and act all superior, Sam, all righteous, but you haven’t even figured it out yet. [...] Screw up now and it’s a baseball bat up alongside your head. There were always bullies, but the adults were still in charge. [...] Now the bullies rule. [...] We play by the bully rules now.’”

Quinn’s speech explains the new structure, a world ruled by bullies’ violence and fear instead of rational, mature adults. He also points to Sam’s difference with superpowers, describing a part of human nature to not trust (or at least ostracize) those labeled as different from the majority.

“‘You don’t get this, do you?’ Sam demanded with enough heat that Astrid took a step back. ‘I know what you want, okay? I know what you and a bunch of other people want. You want me to be the anti-Caine. You don’t like the way he’s doing things and you want me to go kick him out. Well, here’s what you don’t know: even if I could do all that, I wouldn’t be any better than him.’

‘You’re wrong about that, Sam. You’re—’

‘That night when I first used the power? When I hurt my stepfather? How do you think I felt?’

‘Sad. Regretful.’ Astrid looked at his face like the answer would be written there. ‘Scared, probably.’

‘Yeah. All that. And one more thing.’ He held up his hand and inches from her nose squeezed his fingers into a tight fist. ‘I also felt a rush, Astrid. A rush. I thought, oh my God, look at the power I have. Look what I can do. A huge, crazy rush.’” 

In raw dialogue, Sam admits his main flaw of being afraid to use his power. He expresses the dread of harming others, and his guilt for injuring Tom, denying his expected place as the anti-Caine, which also subverts the superhero trope of being the good guy without any reservations.

“It couldn’t last. Everyone was just killing time. But if all they did was kill time, time would end up killing them.”

Albert’s perspective focuses on survival, a major theme, because he believes the kids need to unify to create a functional society. Work and action are needed, as the kids are alone and must become responsible. The turn of phrase here is poignant and honest, since they will die if given enough time without basic resources.

“Lana had no choice: she had to reach the cabin. She had to reach the cabin or die. She yelled at the top of her voice and ran straight at the coyote in her path.”

As with most of Lana’s storyline, she is fighting to survive. Her determined, durable attitude is shown through her fighting spirit as she races at the coyotes. She’s stuck in matters of life and death, as many other characters are throughout the story.

“She believed in him. She knew he had a destiny.

She wondered why. It wasn’t logical, really. She didn’t believe in destiny. All her life Astrid had relied on her brain, on her grasp of facts. Now some part of her she barely knew existed, some buried, neglected part of her mind was urging her on—no good reasons, just an instinct that kept pushing her to push him.

But she was sure.”

Astrid’s character relies on intelligence and logic over emotion and unproven facts. Her character’s depth, as well as foreshadowing of her superpower, is shown in this passage.

“‘He’s not retarded,’ Astrid said evenly.

‘Oh, is that the wrong word? Retard?’

‘He’s autistic.’

‘Retarded,’ Drake insisted.

Astrid looked at him. She willed herself to meet his gaze. ‘Retarded is a word people don’t use anymore. [...] Petey is not intellectually impaired in that way. He has at least normal IQ […]. So the word doesn’t apply.’”

Astrid’s protectiveness over Pete shows her love and loyalty to him. She refuses to use harsh, cruel language like “retard” to describe anyone, especially her brother who has autism. She also corrects Drake with her intellectual knowledge of why the word doesn’t apply. Astrid is courageous until Drake uses physical force, illustrating the theme of fear.

“‘The Darkness says no kill,’ Pack Leader said in his tortured, high-pitched, inhuman voice.

She did not ask him what he meant by ‘the Darkness.’ She had heard its voice in her head, down at the bottom of Hermit Jim’s gold mine. It was a scar on her soul, a scar her healing power could not touch.”

Describing a seemingly intangible force, the Darkness, continues the mystery but gives readers clues to its powers and desires. Lana knowing that the Darkness can control and traumatize people in their minds affects her on an emotional and mental level, so her physical healing cannot work. The scar metaphor is apt.

“‘Looks like a war zone,’ Edilio commented.

‘The FAYZ is a war zone,’ Drake said darkly.”

As the group approaches Coates Academy after they’re captured, Edilio’s comment triggers a shocking truth about their world’s changes. The FAYZ setting has shifted their once peaceful world into a violent place akin to a war zone. The metaphor works to describe the stark contrast of their past to present world.

“‘We’re all scared. I know I am,’ I admitted with a rueful smile. ‘So let’s not try and play it like isn’t scary. It is. But sometimes the worst thing is the fear, you know?’”

Sam’s speech uplifts and assures everyone before the battle that fear is natural. They must not deny the fear but overcome it, which is a central theme. The fear itself is harder to conquer than the source of the fear, such as Caine or Drake. This lesson evolves in almost every character’s arc.

“‘We’ve not going to give in. We’ve going to fight. [...] [...] there’s no line between freak and normal here. If you have the power, we’ll need you. If you don’t, we’ll need you.”

Sam’s speech emphasizes the importance of teamwork and unity. Coming into his leadership role, he urges everyone to work together to survive. Sam believes everyone has a role to play in the community and that they need to rely on each other to survive, showing inclusivity and the themes of Survival, Leadership, and Responsibility.

“Open your eyes, Lana told herself. Be brave. Be brave. See it, face it, fight it. But the Darkness was in her skull, pushing and prodding, peeking inside her secrets, laughing at her pathetic resistance.”

Lana’s defiance is an integral part of her character, so she uses her resilient persistence to fight against a powerful entity. Lana accepts the fear, telling herself to be brave with her unique voice. The Darkness’s mysterious abilities are described a bit, showing it can see inside its victims’ minds.

“‘Oh, God.’ Sam hung his head. ‘Eleven years old and we’re giving her a gun? To shoot at people? At human beings? It’s sick.’

Edilio didn’t have anything to say to that.

‘Sorry, man. I’m not laying this off on you […]. [...] I mean, this is nuts. It’s wrong. Bad enough kids our age, but fourth graders and fifth graders?’”

Sam faces the reality of physical violence on children. Sam’s empathetic, protective nature admits that the entire situation is morally wrong and will likely result in death and traumatic PTSD. From the start of the novel to the end, the trajectory to an all-out war is unbelievable to Sam and many others.

“And then she saw Drake’s arm.

The burned stump, the remains of the arm she had sawed off while Drake screamed and cried and threatened, had been altered.

It was stretched, like it had been turned into dark, blood-red taffy. It wrapped twice around his body.

No.

Impossible.”

Comparing the past Drake to the present Drake juxtaposes his fear and pain when he was injured to his current state of a super-altered, intimidating monster. The repetition of the word choice “impossible” shows that even the strangest fantasies have become reality.

“I believe in free will. I think we make our own decisions and carry out or own actions. And our actions have consequences. The world is what we make it. But I think sometimes we can ask God to help us and He will.”

Some of the characters are faithful, including Astrid, so relying on God in extremely stressful situations makes sense. Here, Astrid’s point of view about free will but also God’s control is a complex idea that the novel proposes.

“The dread was fear of failure. Whatever happened to him, he had Astrid to think about. And Little Pete, because Astrid would be shattered if anything happened to Little Pete. Not to mention the fact that Little Pete might be the only one in all of existence who could end the FAYZ.

He had to beat Caine for her. For them. For all of them, all the kids. And that weighed him down like he was carrying an elephant on his back.”

Sam putting others’ lives above his own and his love for Astrid shine through in his thoughts. A strong simile conveys the pressure of keeping everyone safe and its effect on Sam. He cannot bear to lose the battle. The tension, conflicts, and stakes are high and create a propulsive pace.

“Quinn had practiced firing the machine pistol. He had fired it into the tree trunk and seen the way it chewed through wood.

Squeeze the trigger, and the bullets would chew through Drake the same way.

Squeeze the trigger.

Drake passed directly below.

‘He’s gone,’ Quinn whispered. ‘I couldn’t…’ he said.

From the daycare below, there came the screams of terrified children.

Quinn knows taking someone’s life is serious, and the stress he feels is palpable in the overwhelmed way he tries to convince himself to shoot Drake. Even to protect the youngsters, Quinn cannot bring himself to overcome the distress of being a potential murderer, which shows his values.

“‘I told this filthy beast to stop,’ Diana said, barely controlled.

‘Stop what?’ Caine demanded.

‘They’re still attacking the kids,’ Diana said. ‘We’ve won. Sam is dead. Call them off, Caine.’

Caine turned his attention back to the battle between Drake and the monster. ‘They’re coyotes,’ Caine said coldly.

Diana flew at him. ‘You’ve lost your mind, Caine. This has to stop. You’ve won. This has to stop.’”

Caine’s power-hungry spirit is shown when he denies Diana’s pleas. Diana has limits, but Caine is too controlling and power-obsessed to stop the coyotes. He doesn’t want just to win. He wants to squash any potential threat, showing his malicious nature.