They’re drinking this.We’vebeen drinking this.
I wipe my hand and try not to throw up.
The others—God, the others—they’re just… existing.
Eli passes me in the hallway. Doesn’t look me in the eye. His steps are too smooth. Mechanical. I watch him blink and time it.
Eleven seconds.
No one goes that long without blinking.
They don’t laugh anymore. Don’t argue. No teasing, no bickering over shift assignments or card games. Just eerie calm and an ever-present hum ofcompliance.
They’re docile.
Like pets.
No—like hosts.
I find Em later in the main lab, staring into a petri dish with her nose nearly touching the glass. I call her name twice before she reacts. When she turns, her smile is dreamy.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” she asks.
I glance down. The fungal growth has formed a perfect spiral in the dish. Pulsing. Moving.
“It’s... something,” I say.
She doesn’t notice the hesitation.
“We’ve been chosen,” she says.
My stomach flips. “Chosen?”
She nods. “To understand. To receive. It’s a gift.”
I leave before I vomit.
I findMaug again near the edge of camp. He’s crouched low, sifting through the gravel. He doesn’t look up.
“They’ve got the water,” I say.
He grunts.
“They’ve got the people.”
“I know.”
I kneel beside him, and our eyes meet. I see it—he’s scared. Not for himself. For me.
“I think I’m immune,” I say, quietly. “Or resistant. Something.”
His brow furrows. “Why?”
“Because Iseeit. And they don’t.”
He’s silent for a long beat.
Then: “We leave tonight.”
