“You shouldn’ta done that, Paige,” Trey slurs. We were so focused on taking care of Wyatt that we were slow to remove the projectile nail from Trey’s shoulder. It’s made his head a little fuzzy. Trey doesn’t think it’s serious. I slept through my own recovery from a Farmer projectile and felt fine afterward, so I hope he’s right. “Was tryin’ to get it away from you,” he says.

“Thank you,” I say. “That was very sweet.”

He gives me a sloppy grin.

Manny leans forward and says, “Those who met with the Allies observed that they finished one another’s thoughts, or that they would look at one another and come to a conclusion without speaking aloud at all. The Allies also told us at one point how careful they had to be, that hiding their intentions from the others was nearly impossible and extremely dangerous. We concluded from all this that they shared some kind of hive mind.”

Wyatt says, “What does that have to do with—”

“They couldn’t sense Paige,” Manny says. “She was nearly invisible to them.”

“I don’t understand,” I say.

“Have you ever seen them destroy an animal?” Manny says. “You watched them destroy your stepdad’s car, right? But have you seen them go after a car that wasn’t occupied? Or a boat?”

I think of all those ghost boats, drifting undisturbed across Lake Erie. “No,” I say.

“You’re saying they can sense people,” Trey says.

“Except Paige.”

“Why?” I say. “Why not me?”

“What’s different about you, Paige? Think about it.”

“Oh,” I breathe. “I got sick. I didn’t get the vaccine.”

Rain gusts against the front window, sounding almost like hailstones. I grab a bottled water—which we retrieved earlier from the pantry—and take a sip. Not because I’m thirsty but because I need to sit with this information a moment, let it wash through me.

“The vaccine,” Wyatt says. “You’re saying that’s what they’re sensing?”

“It’s a theory,” Manny says.

Another theory, like the one that says dragonflies don’t patrol the skies when the tower is down. What does it matter, if walkers can patrol the waters?

“Manny, you told us the cure is exta . . . extatewestial,” Trey says.

“Extraterrestrial. That’s right.”

“So what if it came from them, from the Allies themselves? Something like, I dunno, the equivalent of blood plasma. That would explain its waw . . . rarity. And how difficult and dangerous it was to smuggle here.”

I stare at him. Even slightly stoned, Trey’s the smartest person in the room.

“Exactly,” Manny says. “Maybe they can sense us all—except Paige—the way they sense each other.”

Wyatt’s eyes fly wide. “Wait. Are you saying they can read my thoughts?”