The acting police commissioner stepped up to the lectern first, his tie askew and features drained. He opened the conference by detailing efforts to contain the violence across the state, but it quickly became clear it was a hopeless battle.
Theo’s fingers tightened and loosened reflexively on my shoulders. “Hang in there,” he said, and I had a suspicion he was talking to both of us.
I imagined Ava confronting one of the deranged, feet planted, shoulders squared, just like the time she faced up to Nathan over his treatment of me. But her fearlessness was no match for infected people who couldn’t even register pain.
Theo rubbed the back of my neck as the acting commissioner ended his update and backed away from the lectern.
As the minister stepped up and kicked off her intro, I tried to grasp what was happening to us, and the impact it would have on our lives.
When she began delivering instructions, I snapped to attention and tuned in.
“…fill every bath, sink and bucket with water. If you must leave home, wear sturdy shoes and protective clothing.”
And here I stood, quivering in my loungewear and sock-covered feet, feeling anything but prepared.
“Do not engage with people displaying signs of aggression.”
I tilted my head. Theo’s attention remained locked on the television, his jaw set in a tight line. I caught the pulse thudding double time in his throat and yanked my gaze away.
“Check your local emergency station for urgent updates,” she said. “Over the coming days, wewilllose power for the foreseeable future. If you have a medical condition…”
It was the end of days. I couldn’t draw a deep breath. “I can’t listen to any more of this.”
“I know. But do it anyway.”
“Lock your doors. Check in on your elderly neighbours, and if you become trapped by an enraged person…”She faltered.“Target the skull with lethal force.”
The words hung in the air, such a violent thought delivered with clinical precision.
I clenched my hand into a fist as if wielding an imaginary weapon.
A government minister had given us permission to kill people.
This couldn’t be happening—but she stared directly down the barrel of the camera, her features set in a mask of dread and concern.
“Take your safety seriously,” she said.“In time, we hope to restore order, but for now, save yourselves… and God bless you all.”
There were no questions. No camera flashes or uproar. Just pure, terrifying silence.
My heart slowed to a dull thud.
The press conference ended, and the broadcast returned to the wide-eyed anchor. A sheen of sweat clung to her upper lip, and her mouth opened and closed. She paused for a beat too long, then yanked off her microphone and shoved her chair back from the desk.
Without another word, she rushed off the set, leaving an empty chair and the tap-tap of her fading footsteps.
It took a few seconds for either of us to move. “She just… left.” I turned to Theo as a breath jerked from me. I’d barely made it through a life-threatening illness, and now I had to dive straight into this? “Is that it? Are we on our own now?”
“I don’t know what’s going on. I think we need to talk to the others. Get everyone together in the foyer.”
I blinked. The rooftop had always been our place. “Why the foyer?”
“Dustin.” He hooked a piece of my hair with his index finger and lifted it back from my face. “He needs to hear our plans,” he said. “Security’s more important than ever now, and we should all be on the same page.”
The memory of Dustin talking about masks and what they were hiding suddenly held more weight. I pictured him lurking in the halls, free to roam without consequences. “He could be even more dangerous now he doesn’t need to worry about laws,” I pointed out. “Not just here, but anywhere he goes.”
Theo’s expression turned to steel. “He should be coming to the same conclusion about us right about now.”
The hard edge in his voice made me shiver, and I gazed up at him while my thoughts flew in every direction.
