At first, I wondered: why me? Why should I meet God, and not the myriad others touched by a gargoyle? But now, I understand. It sought me out. There can be no other explanation.

  -The Will of Johannes Idunn, introduction

  A guard retrieved them shortly after refinery duty had ended.

  The Captain’s cabin was on the other side of the main hold, and the walk took ages.

  As her and Will were brought through a maze of hallways, Evelyn felt a tinge of nervousness and familiarity. It felt just like every other hallway she’d walked through for some bureaucratic or legal appointment throughout her life; gypsum walls painted a delightful beige, and a low, white grid ceiling. Fluorescent light tubes encased in yellowed old plastic burned her eyes. Some things never seemed to change, even after two hundred years.

  Melvin’s cabin was a welcome break from the monotony. The masked guard led them to its old wooden doors, with a golden plaque on the front: Captain Melvin Idunn.

  Evelyn gasped. “Bloke’s an Idunn?!”

  The doors swung open on their own, revealing Melvin lounging at his desk a good twenty meters ahead. “Regrettably, yes,” he said, his young voice echoing off the high ceiling.

  The wooden walls reminded Evelyn of an old-timey pub. A king-sized bed next to one wall faced a large screen on the opposite side, and connected to it… was that a game console? Evelyn studied it as the guard led them into the room.

  Yes, it was. A very old one, as none had been produced in the past centuries. The sight of it made Evelyn long for the smartphones of old, for the internet. All banned now, by Idunn. It was ‘of no use to humanity’.

  Will didn’t notice the console. Bloke’s probably never even heard of one, Evelyn thought.

  The guard left them in the middle of the room and walked out, the doors closing behind him with an authoritative thud. Melvin motioned them closer.

  “Evelyn, Will,” he nodded as they saluted him.

  His wizened mahogany desk was largely empty, save for few screens, a keyboard, and a few bits and bobs scattering its worn surface. Evelyn caught a glimpse of the screens reflected in the port hole behind the little captain. Mirrored against the twilit, roiling waves were multiple maps of cities, most dotted by two moving red dots. Working inmates?

  Melvin cleared his throat. “You requested an audience, Will?”

  Will stood remarkably still, hands folded behind him.“Indeed sir. Evelyn and I have a proposition for increasing our efficiency.”

  The captain leaned forward in his brown leather chair. “A method we haven’t thought of yet? Go on.”

  “Yes, well, no, not exactly. We are of the opinion that we should undertake more paired missions.”

  Melvin raised an eyebrow. “Paired missions? You are aware of the reason we try to avoid those?”

  Will nodded. “Yes, sir. The more participants, the faster the gargoyles become.”

  “Correct. But…?”

  “But Evelyn and I spoke with Deanna and Tariq about this as well, and they agree. We all feel more confident when working with another pair.”

  “Hmm, so that’s what you four were chatting about earlier,” Melvin grunted. He typed something on his keyboard.

  So they are recording us, she thought. Or watching, at least. The confirmation sent a jolt of panic through her. Be calm, Evi, she told herself. If they’d been heard talking about escape, wouldn’t they have been detained already?

  “Speaking of efficiency,” Melvin said pointedly, looking up at Evelyn, “You have a penchant for taking a considerable amount of time.”

  “Indeed,” Will said hastily. “But only on our solo missions, Captain. I believe our excursion with Kitsch and Brannaghan was our fastest yet. Hence our proposal.”

  “I suppose that is correct,” the captain conceded. “Still, yesterday’s mission took longer than it should have.” He looked at Evelyn, expecting a reply.

  “Uhh,” she said, scrambling for something to say. “That- that wasn’t a normal mission, sir. Plus, you lot didn’t even tell us what the mission was. Chuffin’ long walk, too.”

  “Mhm. And so you took ten hours?”

  “Well, we completed the bloody mission, didn’t we?”

  Melvin nodded slowly, not seeming to notice her swearing. “You did. But…” He stared suddenly at Evelyn, showing her the remarkable age contained in his eyes. “What was so interesting about that house?”

  Memories washed over her like a flood, and she stammered. She pushed them aside as best she could, but what to say?

  “It reminded her of where she used to live,” Will interjected.

  She nodded emphatically. “Uhh, yeah, I get sentimental pretty easily.”

  Melvin gave a disingenuous smile. “Yes, of course. Memories, in your line of work, can be such a welcome…escape, I imagine.” He leaned forward, chin resting in his hands. He looked at them both, for a long while.

  Escape? Was that intentional? Had he heard?

  Melvin spoke before she could finish thinking. “I remain unconvinced.”

  Will sighed. “What if we fill our tanks completely?”

  Evelyn shared Melvin’s shock.

  “A double mission and a full tank?” he said. “You put a lot of stock in this, Will. Why? Tell me, truly.”

  Will leaned on the desk. “In truth, sir, I am simply worried for my friends.”

  The old captain smiled slightly. “Friends, is it?”

  Will looked at Evelyn. “Indeed. I’ve grown quite fond of them. Evelyn, Deanna, Tariq, Seamus.”

  “Well,” the captain said, folding his hands, “That is certainly good to hear.”

  Will straightened his back, and studied the grain of the wood-clad walls, adopting a stern tone. “I was fond of Andrius too. And Magnus. Byrne and Edilberto as well, though I did not speak much with them before they got taken.”

  Who?

  He gave Melvin a pleading look. “In reality, sir, I am not asking out of a want for increased efficiency or dedication to the corps. I simply do not wish to lose any more friends. They are a constant warmth in this cold line of work.”

  “I appreciate your honesty,” Melvin said, thinking for a moment. “You are a good man, Will. A true child of Fairhair. And you,” he looked at Evelyn, “are lucky to have him.” He nodded. “Fine, You do your normal mission tomorrow, then your double mission the very next day. And I want full tanks from both missions.” He rose from his seat, suddenly reminding Evelyn of how young he had been before becoming immortal. He can’t have been more than ten, she wondered. How did they allow that?

  He walked around the desk, and stood before the two of them. “I will notify Deanna and Tariq, and ask the cooks to pack food for your… journey.” He smirked at Will. “Dismissed.”

  Once out, Evelyn breathed a sigh of relief. They had done it. While her plan for escape could generously be described as batshit insane, this felt like a step in the right direction.

  Will seemed to feel it too. “That was a success.”

  “Yeah,” Evelyn said, surprised to find herself caring. The more she thought about it, the more she agreed with Will.

  Strange. Was this how Baldrian had felt all the time, before he died?

  That felt weird too, thinking about him without fear of breaking down. She could still feel it looming, however, gnawing at the back of her mind. One bad day, and I’m done for.

  Tomorrow was mission day, though. And hopefully, she mused, her final full mission. One way or another.

  …

  Deanna seemed tense as Evelyn and Will walked into the mess hall. Dinner was served, and the new inmates were all beside themselves at the food’s quality. It was lasagna day, so Evelyn dug a steaming square-meter of the stuff onto a plate before she did anything else.

  “Well? What did he say?” Deanna asked as they sat down.

  “Said we could do it,” Evelyn mumbled before shovelling some lasagna in her mouth. It was heavenly. Maybe the Corps wasn’t so bad all the time.

  “With a few caveats,” Will added. “We must do our normal mission first before we can go together.”

  “Full tanks on both of ‘em, too.” Evelyn said.

  Tariq, who had finished his meal, sat back, hand to his forehead. “Idunn above…” He leaned forward. “Did the Captain say anything else?”

  Will shook his head. “Nothing of import.”

  “So…” Deanna said, tapping her on the metal table. “Guess we’ve just gotta survive another mission then.”

  “We have made it this far,” Will said. “We can do this.”

  Now you’ve really jinxed it, Evelyn thought.

  After dinner, Melvin had planned a mandatory showing of a movie, ‘Escape from the Outer Darkness’.

  Shuffling into the auditorium where they had gotten their first lesson, Evelyn wondered what movies were like now - she hadn’t seen one in ages, and they were mostly a Fairhair thing. And of the few that trickled down to everyone else, there wasn’t much of quality.

  It turned out to be one about the fall of Europe. A boring, two-and-a-half hour affair, full of inaccuracies. How did they manage that, when so many survivors were still around?

  She got her answer nearer to the end, when Idunn showed up (only an actor, sadly), and personally helped the protagonist’s family escape and grow immortal. Purely by His grace. That never happened, she wanted to scream. How did no one else notice the blatant propaganda?

  Worst of all was the insidious lack of humanity present in the movie. For all of Idunn’s bloviating about the preservation of it, where were the human moments?

  Evelyn didn’t remember much from that time, on purpose. Yet bits and pieces shone through the haze as she watched the movie. Her father helping a child who had lost its mother. A stranger’s staunch refusal to let grief overtake him as he pulled his family away from a monstrous gargoyle. The seemingly endless waiting in lines and refugee camps, and still finding ways to help and entertain each other. And how, no matter the camp, holding center or bureaucratic hellscape, the children all laughed the same.

  On the way back to the mess hall, Evelyn could tell Will had some questions for her, though he was smart enough to stay silent.

  “Hey, Mr. Immortal fella!” The gaunt man from before said as he hurried over to Tariq, who stopped and gave him a dumb look.

  The man continued. “I, uh, that movie gave me a lotta questions I was hoping you could answer!”

  “Why me?” Tariq said. “I’m only 90.”

  The man stared blankly for a little while, and Tariq turned away from him.

  Will strode up to the strange man eventually. “I might be able to help, friend! I’ve read some history. What’s your name?”

  The strange man lit up, smiling his half-toothed smile from ear to ear. “Arne!”

  Will extended his hand. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Arne. My name is Will.”

  Arne shook his hand with enthusiasm. “Likewise, Will!”

  “Say,” Will started walking again, “That’s a Norwegian name. Are you from Fairhair?”

  “No,” the man said. His English was perfect, but he still had that same lilting intonation that Will and Melvin sometimes showed. “Dad lived there for a while, but we moved to Boudicca before I was born.”

  This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

  “I have heard Boudicca is nice as well,” Will responded. He was very wrong. “Anyway, you had some questions?”

  “Yes,” Arne said eagerly. “The gargoyles in the movie seemed way different to the ones we work with! Do you know why?”

  “Err…” Will stammered. “I don’t recall the histories discussing that.” He thought for a moment. “But it might be related to the decrease in electromagnetic radiation and mechanical noise in Europe now, compared to the past.”

  Arne seemed confused.

  “Electricity and mechanical things agitate the gargoyles,” Will explained, “and there was much more of that during the evacuation. I imagine Europe is much quieter now than before.”

  “Just a bunch of screaming there now,” Evelyn muttered, although there had been enough of that during the evacuation.

  Arne nodded thoughtfully. “Right, right… Also, is it true that Europe is completely deserted? A friend of my Dad’s dog’s babysitter told me there were, like, secret communities living in forests there.”

  Will waved his hand dismissively. “I don’t see how anyone could survive in Europe, with all of the gargoyles.” He looked at Arne. “What more did you hear?”

  Does he really believe this guy? She wondered.

  “She said they lived pretty close to the coast, in areas the different Corps don’t patrol.”

  “And where did she hear this?”

  Arne shrugged. “Unsure. I think her grandfather’s grandfather helped build the seawall.”

  “Interesting,” Will said. “Any further questions?”

  Arne beamed, quite pleased that someone wanted to interact with him. “Did Idunn really help people like in the movie?”

  “Yes,” Will said proudly. “He worked on one of the many vessels transporting refugees across the channel and into England. ‘The new Dunkirk’, they called it.”

  Evelyn scowled. “How could he do that when he evacuated from Norway a few days after the mainlanders?”

  Will looked puzzled. “What do you mean?”

  “Bloke says he’s from Norway, lived there before the Fall. W-the mainlanders got hit a few days before the gargoyles spread to Scandinavia. How could he help people cross the channel?”

  Will said nothing.

  “So, he didn’t?” Arne asked, expecting something from Evelyn.

  “Dunno,” she shrugged. “Wasn’t there.”

  Deanna gave her a suspicious glance.

  …

  “Wait,” Deanna said as Tariq pulled the tab on his can. “Does alcohol even work on you?”

  His eyes narrowed as the sound of the crack bounced around the tiny cabin. “Unsure. Never actually tried it before.”

  Evelyn cocked her head. “You’ve never tested if it works with immortality?”

  He shrugged. “No. I’ve never drank before.” He seemed a bit ashamed of that.

  Wow. Judging by how Will held his can, he hadn’t either. And alcohol had no effect on Evelyn, though not for lack of trying. Was Deanna really the only one here who had gotten drunk in the past two centuries?

  “Better enjoy it then,” Deanna said, squinting to read the label on the beer before opening it in expert fashion. “Pisswater though it may be…” she mumbled, taking a swig. Breathing a deep sigh of relief, she relaxed against the wall, looking up at the ceiling. “God, that hits the spot.”

  She sat on the sink, which couldn’t have been very comfortable. Evelyn looked down at Will from the top bunk. He sat on the bottom bunk next to Tariq, who grimaced after his first sip. “People drink this?”

  “Goes down easier after you’ve had a couple,” Evelyn replied. She still remembered that feeling, the taste. It was fun, but got pretty tiring after a while. In a sense, she was glad it couldn’t affect her now. She probably wouldn’t be here if it did. Wouldn’t that be so much easier?

  “The cans are so big, though,” Tariq objected.

  Will opened his and took a sip. “An acquired taste, certainly.”

  Deanna seemed offended. “You’ve never had one either?”

  Will shook his head. “Alcohol is illegal on Fairhair. Though a few of my classmates certainly smuggled some in, I never partook.”

  “You’ve got a lot of catching up to do, then.” Deanna said, before raising her can for a toast. “To Magnus.”

  “May his suffering end soon,” Will raised his can.

  “Brick,” Tariq said with a smile, can outstretched to meet Will’s.

  Evelyn followed, but had no words.

  Tariq and Will fought through their sips, as Deanna chugged her whole can in an instant.

  “Impressive,” Evelyn said before getting interrupted by Deanna’s loud belch. The american grabbed another can, and started the process anew. Someone snickered in the next cabin over.

  Tariq looked up at Evelyn. “So. How confident are you in your plan?”

  “Kinda,” she whispered, afraid to speak too loudly.

  Tariq shook his head and took another sip. “And you still plan to go through with it? Tsk.”

  I have to say it, don’t I… She took a big sip of beer - which wouldn’t help - and hopped down from the top bunk. Will looked at her, and seemed to understand what she was doing. She spoke softly. “Now don’t get your panties in a twist, and don’t tell a single bloody soul about what I’m gonna say next, alright?”

  Deanna nodded eagerly, but Tariq gave her an intense stare.

  “I’m immortal,” she said softly.

  Tariq studied her intently, then sat back and nodded. “That changes things,” he muttered to himself.

  “Knew it,” Deanna whispered.

  “What?” Evelyn gasped.

  She shrugged. “I figured, the way you and Tariq looked at each other, you’ve either got the hots for one another or you share a condition.”

  “Fair enough,” Evelyn said. Though she could never imagine having any hots for him whatsoever. Or anyone else, for that matter.

  “How old?” Tariq seemed genuinely curious for once.

  That familiar numbness seeped into her as she thought of an answer. “Lost count, mate. Older than you, anyway.”

  “Her age is of no importance,” Will said, his tone unusually sober. “What matters is the pl-” Raucous laughter erupted from an adjoining cabin.

  “Not here,” Evelyn hissed.

  The ensuing silence was broken only by Deanna opening her third can. “Something else, then?” she asked, speech starting to slur.

  “No,” Tariq hissed. “I’m not taking part in this until I hear her plan.” He gave the ground a bitter stare. “Being immortal doesn’t make your operational judgment sound.”

  “On the overmorrow,” Will said in a soothing voice. “When we are in the field together. Then we can talk.”

  “You’re asking me to decide this only a few hours before we try?” Tariq asked incredulously.

  “I thought initiative and quick decision making was a staple of Elysian doctrine?” Will asked.

  “I rarely made the decision,” Tariq muttered, seeming ashamed of himself.

  You just followed them, she thought. How do I make him follow mine?

  “Still,” Will patted him reverently on the shoulder, “if you disagree, you can return to base and say we escaped without you.”

  Tariq reached into his inner pocket and pulled out one of Evelyn’s memories. A small golden vial, mostly metal, with a piece of glass in the middle. Visible was a gassy blue liquid, agnostic in its state of matter. As if it couldn’t decide whether it was a liquid or a gas.

  Will’s eyes went wide. “A… A real…” he began whispering. “A real ampoule?”

  Tariq nodded, holding the metal tube like it was the most fragile thing in the world. “A ration. They told us to hide it somewhere, use it after two weeks if we got captured or besieged. I never knew what it did.” He scoffed at himself. “Never thought about it, either.” He looked towards the door. “Until I came to the refinery.”

  “Little dose of immorality,” Evelyn explained as she leaned against the wall and cocked her head. “You didn’t recognize what it did?”

  Tariq shook his head. “No. Never had to take any more serum after my first time. But maybe they put it in the food…”

  Was he finally going to say it? “And so…?” Evelyn asked.

  “You were right. It does run out.”

  Evelyn nodded to herself. “Not much use in staying ‘ere, then?”

  He sighed, then looked at Deanna, who was nearing the tail end of her third beer. “You’re going with them either way?”

  She nodded slowly, face as red as her hair. Was it the alcohol? “Yup. Just blew all my money, so I’ve got no reason to stay.”

  He grunted at that, then chewed on his cheek as he thought. Finally, he gave in. “Alright.”

  Will clapped him on the shoulder. “Wonderful!”

  “Good choice, mate,” Evelyn said, feeling just a little bit proud of herself.

  “Well,” Deanna said, slapping her hands on her legs and getting up off the sink. “Now that that’s outta the way…” She leaned across the length of the tiny cabin towards Tariq, and grabbed his can. She seemed disappointed as she jostled it. “Almost full? You need to up your tempo, dude.” She shooed at Will, who scooched over to give her space between him and Tariq.

  “I wanna get to know y’all more,” she said.

  “What do you wish to know?” Will asked.

  Deanna held her beer towards Evelyn, pointing at her. “I wanna know more about you. What’dya do before coming here?”

  What did I do? she thought. She started with caution. “Not much. Odd jobs, stuff like that.”

  Will set down his now empty can. Deanna handed him a new one almost instantly. “What is life like on Vercingetorix?” he asked.

  She thought back to all the days spent outside in the freezing rain looking for shelter. Desperately drying her last remaining pair of socks over the scant heat of a torn-down billboard as everyone else walked past, deliberately avoiding looking at her.

  But they didn’t need to know that. “Not pretty, mate. Was on the streets for the first months. Like livin’ in the arse end of the ocean. I’d’ve killed to live on Fairhair.”

  Will smiled. “Fairhair is wonderful, yes.”

  Deanna leaned on Will. “Is it true that everyone over there’s rich as hell?”

  He removed her arm from his shoulder. “No,” he started but then thought some more. “Possibly. Life on Fairhair is the only frame of reference I have had so far. Some were more well off than others, certainly, but no one struggled…” He looked at Evelyn. “No one lived on the streets. I’d read of poverty only in my school books, only seen it at the cinema.” He looked at the floor. “I don’t know what the world is like.”

  Tariq leaned forward. “Really? You’ve never travelled outside of Fairhair?”

  Will looked confused. “No? Why would…” he trailed off. “No, I have not. What is it like?”

  “It’s a mixed bag,” Tariq said. “The food, the temperatures, the sights are different. But the people stay the same.”

  “Yeah,” Evelyn added. “Used to be different, though.”

  “Really?” Tariq asked.

  She nodded. “Everything used to be a whole lot more connected. Used to be, you could talk to anyone, anytime, regardless of where they were.”

  “I have heard of that,” Will said, as if they were discussing myth. “The internet.”

  “Yup,” she said. “Used to have some friends over in America. Talked to ‘em daily. Text, calls. I could go on my phone - little computer we all had in our pocket - and read the thoughts, jokes, fears, of people I’d never meet. Felt like I knew ‘em, though. Better than I knew myself sometimes.” She drew in a ragged breath, shaking her head. “Suppose they’re all dead now.”

  “Evi…” Deanna whispered.

  “Can you tell me more?” Will asked. “Was it just to talk to others?”

  “No,” she admitted. “It was amazing, really. Felt like any aspect of human knowledge and expression could be found there. Will, those big honkin’ books you read in school?”

  “Yes?”

  “Could find all the info in ‘em online, and more.”

  Everyone grew wide-eyed at that.

  “You could see every movie or TV show ever made, listen to any song just with the click of a button. And there was art, and poetry, and videos about art and poetry, all shared just for the love of it. Books, news, forums to talk to people. Boundless entertainment, everywhere you looked.”

  Will leaned against the wall. “That sounds amazing,”

  “It was,” Evelyn conceded. “Had a tendency to fry our brains, though, but that was the funniest part.”

  “What happened to it?” Deanna asked.

  “Wasn’t profitable, at first.” A certain gloom crept into Evelyn again. “You know those big billboards and screens all around, the ones that always show ads tailored to you?”

  “Yeah,” Deanna said. “Got one on my fridge.”

  “Well, those began on the internet. Then companies started gathering data, selling it to make those ads better. Money outcompeted art, and art became money. It happened gradually, slowly so you didn’t recognize it. Any expression of positivity became just another metric. Art stopped being art, just became content. A sludge of human expression, sold to us because no one could stop looking at it. Corporations ruled, not the users, and when artificial intelligence came along, well…” She sat down on the floor, back to the wall.

  “Everything anyone had ever said, written, filmed, composed, or loved, all shoveled into the AI-blender and squirted back to us like shit. All the original meaning, the nutritious intent, the beautiful taste was just… digested away. Served back to us as a heaping pile of machine-made fecal slop on an electronic platter.”

  “I never knew…” Will whispered.

  “Continued on like that, after the Fall. Until Idunn had had enough.”

  “He fixed it?” Will asked, like a child wondering how a bedtime story ended.

  Evelyn scoffed. “Pulled the plug.”

  “Sounds like a mercy killing,” Tariq added.

  “Pretty much.” She missed those days, even if they all blended together.

  Deanna smiled. “That’s the most I’ve ever heard you talk, Evi.”

  She chuckled. “Don’t get used to it.”

  Deanna looked around at all of them, then leaned on Tariq’s shoulder. “I’m glad that we’re all here.”

  Ahh, a sentimental drunk.

  “As am I,” Will added.

  Deanna sniffled. “I had friends back on Alaric. I wonder if they miss me.

  “I am sure they do,” Will said.

  Deanna became sullen. “And my cat, I miss her so much…”

  “What is her name?” Will asked.

  She smiled. “Provolone. Had her since I was a kid.”

  Will chuckled. “We had a cat once, too. Phillip. He was a mischievous little fellow, but lovely.”

  “Provolone’s like that too,” Deanna reminisced. “She stuffed my neighbor’s mailbox full of dead mice once.” She laughed. “Got in a fight with a dog too, then broke into our catnip container the day after.”

  “Sounds like a loveable little rascal,” Tariq said. “My dad had a few dogs like that when I grew. Mean as hell unless they knew you.”

  “He had multiple dogs simultaneously?” Will asked.

  “No, only one at a time. Same breed, gave ‘em all the same name when he replaced them. Taxi 1, Taxi 2, Taxi 3, et cetera.”

  “Taxi?” Deanna snickered.

  “Yeah, he thought it would be funny whenever he had to shout at them.”

  “Which Taxi did you grow up with?” Evelyn asked.

  “Taxi 3, at first. He practically raised me. Absolute saint, most of the time, but he would snarl at anyone who so much as laid a finger on me. Pretty restless, though.”

  Deanna finished her beer. “How so?”

  Tariq chuckled. “We went out of town once, when I was a kid. Were gone for maybe five hours. ‘Taxi’s fine on his own’, we thought. But when we came back,” Tariq laughed. “Not only had he stripped the living room of wallpaper, he’d somehow managed to get into the fridge. Little guy ate a whole 32 ounce steak raw. We came home to him lying on the floor, stuffed like a turkey, with the biggest smile on his face. Shat wallpaper like a damn home improvement store for a week.”

  They all laughed at that, and the cabin didn’t seem quite so small.

  “We had a dog too,” Evelyn said. “Marigold.”

  “What was she like?” Will asked.

  “She was… wonderful,” Evelyn said, struggling to keep it together. Stupid. Why bring that up? You’re gonna end up like a bawling fool.

  “Beautiful name,” Deanna said softly. “Any good memories with her?”

  Evelyn spoke through the lump in her throat, that tightening in her jaw. “So many…”

  She fought hard. Why did these memories have to come back now?

  Will rose and sat next to her, gentle. “That’s wonderful to hear, Evelyn. Cherish those memories. Don’t let those of her death be the only memories you keep.”

  How could she ever do that? How could she think of those she had lost and ignore the pain of having them ripped away?

  Was something wrong with her? These others seemed to manage it just fine. You’re the oldest in the room, she thought. And you still can’t figure that out?

  Loneliness reared its head, even among friends. Talking about it would probably help, but it felt so unnatural to bring up. She had done this to herself, after all. There was no one to blame but her. No reason to bother the others with her problems, not when they needed to stay sharp for the next few days.

  The next few days… She glanced at Tariq’s armband, hoping her plan would work.

  Only one way to find out, I suppose.