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“I am.”

She studies me.

Then another scream comes from outside.

This one is close enough to shake the side window.

Lark jumps.

A man falls against the glass from outside, blood running from his forehead into his eyebrow.

Mercy moves automatically.

So does Junie.

“Don't open it,” I say.

The man slides down the wall. He is wearing a vendor apron, not a cut or one of the fake volunteer shirts.

“Oh, shit,” Petal whispers.

Mercy looks toward the front.

Crypt is nowhere in sight.

She looks at me.

I already know what she is thinking.

“Go.”

“No.”

“Mercy.”

“No.”

“He might actually be hurt.”

“So might you if I leave.”

“You're not leaving me. The door is locked.”

“That has not exactly inspired confidence today.”

Fair.

The man pounds weakly against the window. “Please.”

Mercy curses.

Junie grabs the first-aid kit. “I'll go.”

Mercy turns on her. “No.”

“Then somebody has to.”

Everything is chaos.