“Hopefully it’s not Scarlett,” Valentino says.
True, because she should be on her plane by now.
“It’s Dalma,” I say. I answer her call. “Hey, what’s up?”
“Thank god you’re okay,” Dalma says.
I’m immediately thrown back into the headspace of 9/11 and everyone’s relief whenever they found out someone was alive. “Why wouldn’t I be? What’s going on?”
“O-Bro, have you not seen the news?”
“No, I haven’t. We’ve been—” I shut up, my heart going crazy. Valentino can see the panic in my eyes. “Dalma, just tell me what’s going on. I’m freaking the fuck out.”
“There’s been a Death-Cast update. Some Deckers have slipped through the cracks, and the problem won’t be sorted until tomorrow. I think that’s still a big question mark too.”
I almost drop my phone.
I’m shaking.
My eyes water.
“What’s happening?” Valentino asks. “Is everyone okay?”
This is the fucking thing: I should have an answer.
I should know if everyone is okay because Death-Cast was supposed to solve these mysteries so we could live our days peacefully if we weren’t about to die. But now I’m back to where I was yesterday and every damn day before that. My heart going wild could actually be the beginnings of an attack that kills me.
Has today been my End Day too?
Valentino
2:51 p.m.
Orion looks like he’s seen a ghost, or more realistically, like he’s been called by Death-Cast.
I guess in both cases you see lives that are over.
That doesn’t make sense, though. He’s not some seer who communicates with ghosts and Dalma isn’t a herald at Death-Cast. I’m scared that someone he loves has died, like Dalma’s family, but that doesn’t make sense because I was under the impression everyone in their house was registered for Death-Cast. A herald would’ve called if it was their End Day. Could it be something with Dr. Emeterio? Maybe she’s done further testing and Orion and I are no longer a match? Or she can’t get anyone to sign off on the transplant in a timely fashion? There are hundreds of questions, and the only person who can give me an answer is lost in his head.
“Orion . . .”
He’s frozen, staring at the mega screen like the hourglasses are on display again. A tear slides down Orion’s face. “What about the Deckers they called already?”
This is about Death-Cast.
This could be about me.
Orion starts sobbing. Is this good? Is this relief? Are we going to have more time?
Am I going to live?
“I’ll call you back—I don’t know, Dalma, let me call you back . . .”
He hangs up.
I can tell in his eyes that he’s not about to personally deliver death-changing news.
“What’s going on?”
“Death-Cast fucked up,” Orion says, shaking. “Deckers have died today without knowing it’s their End Day and . . . there’s a chance that . . . there’s still a chance that more will die before midnight. Joaquin Rosa is trying to fix whatever went wrong, but he can’t promise anything—even though that was his company’s whole fucking job!”
This means that Orion could die today.
Scarlett too. She survived her own brush of death when the pilot got his End Day call before takeoff. What if everyone on that plane is destined to die today too?