She knows.But how?
Then he remembered the post, a disaster almost equal to the state of his carpets.
“Look, I—I’m really sorry about today. I’m sure that wasn’t the reaction you were—”
“I’m not calling about the announcement,” Saito said.
“You’re not?”
“Time is of the essence, so I’ll make this short: we know about your side effects and the issues they’ve been causing you.”
Dread bobbed like cold vomit up Emmett’s throat. “I-issues?”
“Four by my count. Unless you’ve added one since Justin Matthews.”
Emmett was going to be sick. She knew. She was going to hand him over to the police. “How—? W-what’re you—?”
“Don’t worry. I have no intention of turning you in. Monstera wants to help you. Are you at home?”
He didn’t answer.
“Pack a bag. I’ll be there in twenty minutes. I have a safe place you can stay until we get everything sorted out.”
“No—I can’t—I can’t leave right now.”
“Has something happened?”
“No,” Emmett insisted. His eyes flicked unconsciously to the duffel bag in the corner of the room. “Everything’s fine.”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Saito said. “Just stay there. And for fuck’s sake, don’t kill anyone else.”
Emmett showered the blood off him, dressed, and packed a bag. He couldn’t settle, returning to the living room window ten times in an hour before he spotted a large van parking on the street. The wordsBio-Clean—Crime Scene Sanitation Expertswere printed on the side.
A few moments later, there was a knock at the door. Through the peephole he spied four strangers.
“Mr. Truesdale?” said the man in front. “We’re here to help.”
Emmett said nothing. Could this be a trick?
“Jenni Saito sent us.” And when he still did not answer: “We’re coming in—”
Emmett reached for the lock a split second too late. The door swung open and the man bulldozed in ahead of his colleagues. The foursome were completely unfazed by the state of the apartment or the blood squelching beneath their shoes.
“Who are you?” Emmett said, rushing to close the door behind them. “What are you doing?”
One of them had a duffel of her own; she tossed it onto the couch, unzipped it, and began to distribute folded-up rubber garments.
“We’ll take it from here,” the man said as his colleagues donned hazmat suits, goggles, and medical masks.
“But—”
Another knock at the door. Another glance through the peephole.
This time Emmett didn’t hesitate to open up.
“Ready to go?” said Saito, standing in the doorway.
Emmett didn’t see the point of resisting. “Come in. I’ll grab my stuff.”
