“Fuck no.”
“Nobody in their right mind would be. Here.” He takes a piece of paper out of his pocket and slips it into mine. “Promise you won’t read this until later.”
I wonder if it’s the I’m sorry again. “I promise.”
The door creaks open, and we step away from each other. Stale air rushes into the space between us. I have to keep myself from reaching for him, from pulling him back to me, because it feels so empty without him.
Erin steps into the room, face flushed and eyes wide.
“All right,” she says. “It’s now or never.”
Nick offers me an awkward, perfect smile before he puts up his mask. I smile back, the best I can, and step out into the hall.
The three of us walk to the lobby. I swear the hall lasts forever. My mask is down. My sleeves rolled up. What’s left of my heart beating holy, holy, holy in my throat.
We step inside.
John 8:32.
The truth will set you free.
“Uh,” I say. “Hey, guys.” People turn, confused to hear someone raise their voice in the quiet. Then they realize what they’re seeing, all at once, and the silence could kill.
“Hi again.”
* * *
It’s not enough. All the planning in the world, all of Erin’s reassurance and Nick’s control, and it’s not enough.
The quiet goes on too long. The staring. The terror lodged in my lungs. It’s long enough that I wonder if Seraph is playing tricks on me, more than the feathers at the edges of my sight and the tooth buried in the courtyard. It has frozen this moment and is forcing me to take it all in, to recognize the fear in my friends’ eyes. Cormac reaching for a gun that isn’t by his side anymore. Aisha’s back pressed against the wall, trembling.
I promised I would be good. I should have known it wouldn’t be enough.
It isn’t until Carly audibly whimpers that I realize it isn’t Seraph. It’s just us, what’s left of us, all terrified of one another. Nick puts a hand on my shoulder and squeezes. I can feel the tension in his fingers, like he’s putting everything he has into this little touch.
“Easy,” he says. I’m not sure if he’s talking to me or everyone else. “Everything’s okay. Benji, go ahead.”
I don’t know what to say. What is there to say at all?
“I, um.” I am a monster standing among the living, a boy made of raw meat and dying flesh. “It’s me.”
Sadaf saves me.
She springs off the floor and runs to me, skirts billowing out in a pastel cloud. Aisha tries to grab her, then Faith, but she slips between their fingers and comes to a stop just inches away. Her soft hands clasp what’s left of my cheeks. Her eyes glimmer.
“I knew it!” she cries in triumph. “I knew something was going on! I didn’t think it could be the Flood, since it was moving too slowly, but I knew it had to be something—oh, are you contagious?” I shake my head. “Didn’t think so. You wouldn’t do that.” My chest twists painfully. She has no idea. “Sarmat, Aisha, come look at this!”
That’s what breaks the spell of terror. People come up, one by one, slowly. Faith whispers, “Does it hurt?” Salvador picks me up off the ground in a hug, saying, “You freaky bastard!” Erin leans against the wall, slumping with relief. Nick smiles down at his feet. One of his hands is going tp tp tp, but there’s a happiness to it I’ve never seen before.
“So,” Alex says, watching me cautiously from beside the radio. “Why are you telling us this now? What’s wrong?”