Drake Merwin Quotes

“It's not about who's got powers, morons. It's about who's not afraid. And who's going to do what has to be done.”
― Michael Grant, Gone

“Slice and Dice, Slice and Dice”
― Michael Grant, Hunger

“You might be useful but my dogs gotta eat.”
― Michael Grant

“Hello, freak,” Drake said.
Lana backed away, but too late. Drake leveled his gun at her.
“I’m right-handed. ’Least I used to be. But I can still hit you from this distance.”
“What do you want?”
Drake motioned toward the stump of his right arm. It was gone from just above the elbow. “What do you think I want?”
The one time she’d seen Drake Merwin, he had made her think of Pack Leader: strong, hyper alert, dangerous. Now, the lean physique looked gaunt, the shark’s grin was a tight grimace, his eyes were red-rimmed. His stare, once languidly menacing, was now intense, burning hot. He looked like someone who had been tortured beyond endurance.
“I’ll try,” Lana said.
“You’ll do more than try,” he said. He convulsed in pain, face scrunched. A low, eerie moan escaped his throat.
“I don’t know if I can grow a whole arm back,” Lana said. “Let me touch it.”
“Not here,” he hissed. He motioned with his gun. “Through the back door.”
“If you shoot me, I can’t help you,” Lana argued.
“Can you heal dogs? How about if I blow his brains out? Can you heal that, freak?”
― Michael Grant

“Brianna! Is Sam okay?” Astrid cried.
“No. Drake tore him up.” She wanted to sound tough, but the sobs came bubbling up and overtook her. “Oh, God, Astrid, he’s hurt so bad.”
Astrid gasped and covered her hand with her mouth. Brianna put her arms around Astrid and sobbed into her hair.
“Is he going to die?” Astrid asked, voice wobbly.
“No, I don’t think so,” Brianna said. She stood back and wiped her tears. “I gave him something for the pain. But he’s messed up, Astrid.”
― Michael Grant, Hunger

“Drake’s dead,” Astrid said. “Dead people don’t come back. Let’s not be ridiculous.”
Howard made a derisive snort. “Okay. That’s as far as I go with you on this, Sammy boy.” He made a hand-washing gesture.
Astrid slammed her palm on the table, surprising even herself. “Somebody better tell me what all these back-and-forth looks are about.”
“Brittney,” Howard said, spitting the name out like it was poison. “She came back. Sam had her and stuck her with Brianna, and told me not to talk about it.”
“Brittney?” Astrid said, confused.
Howard said, “Yeah. You know, like dead-girl Brittney? Way dead? Dead a long time and buried a long time and suddenly she’s sitting in my house chatting? That Brittney.”
“I’m still not…”
“Well, Astrid,” Howard said, “I guess we just found the limits of your big old genius brain. Point is that someone who was very seriously dead is suddenly not so dead anymore.”
“But…,” Astrid started. “But Drake…”
“As dead as Brittney,” Howard said. “Which might be a slight problem, since Brittney isn’t exactly dead herself.”
― Michael Grant, Lies

“Hey, Sam,” Drake shouted. “I thought you’d like to know this isn’t my whole army.”
Sam didn’t doubt it.
“Your girl Brianna tried to stop us.” Drake waved a bowie knife in the air. “I took this from her. I whipped her, Sam.” He snapped his whip hand. The crack was like a pistol shot. “I broke her legs so she couldn’t run. Then . . .”
Dekka was halfway over the side, ready to swim ashore. Jack grabbed her and held her.
“Let me go!” Dekka yelled.
“Hold her,” Sam ordered Jack. “Don’t be stupid, Dekka. He wants us to come rushing at him.”
“I can beat him,” Jack said. “Dekka and me together, we can kill him.”
Sam registered the fact that Jack was actually making a physical threat. He didn’t remember ever hearing that kind of thing from Jack. But Dekka was Sam’s greater concern.
“I’m going to kill him,” Dekka said in a voice so deep in her throat she sounded like an animal. “I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him.” Then she shouted, “I’m going to kill you, Drake. I’m going to kill you!”
Drake grinned. “I think she liked it. She was screaming, but she liked it.”
“He’s lying,” Toto said.
“Who?” Sam snapped.
“Him.” He pointed at Drake. “He hasn’t killed that girl or hurt her.”
Dekka relaxed and Sam and Jack let go of her.
“Truth-teller Toto,” Sam whispered. “He can tell when people are lying.”
“I just decided I like you,” Dekka said to Toto. “You might be useful.”
Toto frowned. “It’s true: you just decided you like me.”
― Michael Grant, Plague

“Where’s Sam?” Brianna asked.
“He’s out. So is Edilio,” Dekka said. “You going to tell us what’s in the bag or do we have to guess?”
Brianna stopped. She was disappointed. In her imagination the big revelation would have been to an admiring Sam Temple. He was the one she wanted to impress. Failing that, Edilio, who was generally warm and sweet to her.
But she was tired and wanted to put the bag down. Also, she couldn’t keep the secret any longer.
She climbed nimbly up to the top deck of the boat, grinned, and said, “Is it anyone’s birthday? Because I have a present.”
“Breeze,” Dekka warned.
So Brianna opened the bag. Dekka looked inside. “What is it?”
So Brianna upended the bag. Dead lizards, broken eggs, and Drake’s head landed on the antiskid flooring.
“Ahhhh!” Astrid screamed.
“Ah, Jesus!” Dekka yelled.
“I know,” Brianna said proudly.
What lay there was something to strike envy into the heart of a horror movie special-effects expert. The two halves of Drake’s head had started to rejoin. But because the halves had been tossed wildly together, the process was very incomplete. Very.
In fact at the moment the halves were backward, so that the left half was looking one direction and the right half another. Sections of neck and spine stuck both up and down. The part that held most of Drake’s mouth was stuffed with hair from the back of his head.
And, somehow, bits of dead lizard were squeezed in between. But the dead lizards thus incorporated were no longer dead. And there was egg white smeared across one eye.
The mouth was trying to speak and not managing it.
A lizard tail whipped one eye—hard to tell if it was left or right—a parody of Drake’s whip arm.
The three of them stared: Astrid with blue eyes wide, hand over mouth; Dekka with mouth wide open and brow furrowed; Brianna like a proud school kid showing off her art project.
“Ta-da!” Brianna said.”
― Michael Grant, Light

“You let her get away?” Caine demanded, forgetting Sam for the moment.
“I didn’t let her get away. They were in the room with me. The girl was pissing me off so I smacked her. Then they disappeared. Gone.”
Caine shot a murderous look at Diana. Diana said, “No. She was months away from turning fifteen. And, anyway, her little brother is four.”
“Then how?” Caine furrowed his brow. “Can it be the power?”
Diana shook her head. “I read Astrid again on the way here. She’s barely at two bars. No way. Two people teleporting?”
The color drained from Caine’s face. “The retard?”
“He’s autistic, he’s like in his own world,” Diana protested.
“Did you read him?”
“He’s a little autistic kid, why would I read him?”
Caine turned to Sam. “What do you know about this?” He raised his hand, a threat. His face inches from Sam’s, he screamed, “What do you know?”
“Well. I know that I enjoy seeing you scared, Caine.”
The invisible fist sent Sam sprawling on his back.
Diana, for the first time, looked worried. Her usual smirk was gone. “The only time we saw teleporting was Taylor up at Coates. And she could only go across a room. She was a three. If this kid can teleport himself and his sister through walls…”
“He could be a four,” Caine said softly.
“Yes,” Diana said. “He could be a four.” When she said the word “four,” she looked straight at Sam. “He could be even more.”
Caine said, “Orc, Howard: lock Sam up, tie him down so he can’t get that Mylar off his hands, then get Freddie to help you. He’s done plastering before, he knows what to do. Get whatever you need from the hardware store.” He grabbed Drake by the shoulder. “Find Astrid and that kid.”
“How am I going to catch them if they can just zap out whenever they want?”
“I didn’t say catch them,” Caine said. “Take a gun, Drake. Shoot them both before they see you.”
Sam charged at Caine and plowed into him before he could react. The momentum carried them both to the floor. Sam headbutted Caine in the nose. Caine was slow to recover, but Drake and Orc swarmed over Sam and kicked him off Caine.
Sam groaned in pain. “You can’t kill people, Caine. Are you crazy?”
“You hurt my nose,” Caine said.
“You’re screwed up, Caine. You need help. You’re insane.”
“Yeah,” Caine said, touching his nose and wincing at the pain. “That’s what they keep telling me. It’s what Nurse Temple…Mom…told me. Just be glad I need to keep you around, Sam. I need to see you blink out, figure out how to keep it from happening to me. Orc, take this hero away. Drake: go.”
“If you hurt them, Drake, I’ll hunt you down and kill you,” Sam shouted.
“Don’t waste your breath,” Diana said to him. “You don’t know Drake. Your girlfriend’s as good as dead.”
― Michael Grant, Gone

“Four days,” he said, just loudly enough for those in the room to hear. “That’s how long it took me to defeat Sam Temple.” Caine locked eyes with Drake. “Four days,” Caine sneered. “What did you accomplish in the three months I was sick?”
Drake met his gaze, then wavered, and looked down at the floor. There was red in his cheeks, a dangerous glitter in his eyes, but he could not meet Caine’s triumphant scowl.
“Remember this when you finally decide it’s time to take me on, Drake.”
― Michael Grant, Hunger

“Brianna’s looking for Drake,” Edilio said, thinking out loud.
“You sent her out against Drake?” Albert demanded.
“Sent her? Who sends Brianna out to get into a fight? She goes on her own. Anyway, it’s not like you’ve left us with anyone else.”
Albert had the decency not to say anything to that.
“You know, you guys put me in charge. I didn’t ask to be in charge. I didn’t want to be in charge. Sam was in charge and all you guys ever did was give him grief,” Edilio said. “You two, especially.” He pointed at Albert and Astrid. “So, okay, Astrid takes over. And then Astrid finds out it’s not so much fun being in charge. So it’s like, okay, let’s get the dumb wetback to do the job.”
“No one ever—,” Astrid protested.
“And me, like a fool, I’m thinking, okay, that must mean people trust me. They asked me to be in charge, be the mayor. Come to find out, I’m not making decisions; Albert’s making decisions. Albert’s deciding we need to find more water and sending our two best fighters off into the countryside. Now I’m supposed to fix everything? It’s like you go, ‘Fight a war,’ but you sent my army off on a wild goose chase.”
― Michael Grant, Plague

“How am I supposed to feed you?” Drake demanded.
“Darkness say to coyote: don’t kill human. Did not say don’t eat dead human.”
Drake laughed with a certain delight. This Pack Leader was definitely a smarter animal than the original one.”
― Michael Grant, Fear

“Nine shotgun shells would kill just about anything.
Except Drake.
Drake scared her deep down. He had been the first person in her life to hit her. To this day she could remember the sting and force of his slap. She could remember the certainty that he would quickly escalate to closed-fist punches. That he would beat her and that the beating would give him pleasure so that nothing she could ever say would stop him.
He had forced her to insult Little Pete. To betray him.
It hadn’t bothered Petey, of course. But it had eaten at her insides. It seemed almost quaint now when she recalled that guilt. She’d had no way of knowing then that she would someday do far, far worse.
Fear of that psychopath was part of the reason she had needed to manipulate Sam. She had needed Sam’s protection for herself and even more for Little Pete. Drake wasn’t Caine. Caine was a heartless, ruthless sociopath who would do anything to increase his power. But Caine didn’t revel in pain and violence and fear. However amoral, Caine was rational.
To Caine’s eyes Astrid was just another pawn on the chessboard. To Drake she was a victim waiting to be destroyed for the sheer pleasure it would bring him.
Astrid knew she couldn’t kill Drake with the shotgun. She could blow his head off his shoulders and still not kill him.
But that image brought her some sense of reassurance.”
― Michael Grant, Fear

“He’s teamed up with Peaks, which is bad enough, but worse, ordinary people think he’s Alex Pettyfer, the actor who played him in the movie.”
― Michael Grant, Villain