October 23. That was…
That wastoday.
Dustin was scheduled to be collectedtoday.With expedited priority.
Greg's heart stopped in his chest. He needed to breathe. He needed to fix this. But how… how?
There had to be something he could do.
Anything.
Trying very hard not to panic, Greg put the clipboard down and left the bedroom because he couldn't look at Dustin and think rationally at the same time.
He went into the bathroom and shut the door. Then he gripped the sink with both hands and looked into the mirror.
His reflection looked terrible. His hair was flat on one side and sticking up on the other. There were shadows under his eyes and his glasses were on the desk next to the clipboard so his face looked bare and wrong.
“Okay,” he whispered to his reflection. “Okay.”
The system wascoming for Dustin.
What could Greg do about that?
An image of Sarah rose unbidden in his mind. Sarah Meadows. Dustin had saved her from collection.
Could Greg do for Dustin what Dustin had done for Sarah?
The system had skipped over Sarah and calculated a new death date for her after she'd evaded her death.
That might be the key.
If Dustin naturally evaded his death rather than his death being prevented by demonic means… would he be skipped as well?
Greg considered telling Dustin what he'd read on he clipboard. Death couldn't come for Dustin at the grocery store if Dustin never entered said store…
But the system would likely considerthatcheating as well.
Greg drew air deep into his lungs.
No, he couldn't tell Dustin anything. He had to let things play out as they should and interfere at the last second.
He had to keep a secret.
Greg looked at his reflection and tried to arrange his features into an expression that communicatedI am having a normal morning and nothing is wrong.
The result was deeply unconvincing. He looked like a man being held at gunpoint and told to smile.
He tried again. Less teeth.
Marginally better. Still not good.
This is fine. Everything is fine.
From the bedroom, he heard the creak of the mattress. Dustin was waking up.
Greg splashed water on his face, dried it with a towel, and went back to the bedroom.
Dustin was sitting up in bed, squinting in the gray light. His hair was worse than Greg's. His shoulder — the bad one — was held stiffly, and he rotated it once and hissed through his teeth.
