“I doubt it,” Manny says. “That would require a lot more biological compatibility. I suspect this is more mechanical in nature. The virus is made of tiny machines, incomprehensible to us, but machines nevertheless. The cure is probably similar, a mechanized substance with some biological materials, which can act upon biological processes.”

That sounds weird and complicated to me, but Trey is nodding along as though it makes perfect sense.

Manny’s gaze turns distant. “I wonder . . .”

“About?” I press.

“If the virus or maybe even the cure would give us access to alien technology. If they’re sensing us the way they sense each other . . . They’re controlling those drones somehow, right?”

“Or they’re automated,” Trey says.

“What I want to know,” I say, “is what we’re going to do about that barge. Do we still try to get it to the tower?”

Silence greets my question.

Wyatt scratches at the scab forming on his scalp. “I don’t see how,” he says in a near whisper. “They’re in the water. They could be on us before we even saw—”

“Your gun took care of one just fine,” Trey says.

“Yeah. But that was lucky. I mean, I’m a pretty good shot, but AR-15’s are notoriously inaccurate at distance, and it’s really lucky I didn’t shoot Paige instead. I wouldn’t have risked it if I’d had any other choice.”

He almost did hit me. I remember the bullet zinging past the skin of my cheek like a bright-hot wind.

“We can still protect the barge with that gun,” Trey says. “We hang out in the driving cab; their fingernail projectiles couldn’t penetrate my life jacket, so I bet they can’t penetrate glass either. If one comes near, we shoot. We might not see any more at all. They’re rare, right? An advance force, thinned out across the world.”

I wouldn’t be surprised if they started patrolling this area in greater numbers, given everything that’s happened. But I’m the only one they may not be able to sense.

“The El Camino should be safe on the trip back, if we go during tower-down time,” Manny says. “But we have two boats and only one gun.”

“I really wish I’d brought that pistol,” Trey says.

“We’ll have to leave the Tardis behind,” Wyatt says.

“No! We might need her. She’s how we get to the barge and back, and she’s . . .” Manny gazes longingly through the window toward his yacht, even though he can’t possibly see a thing through that storm.

“Trey will drive the El Camino back to the bunker,” I say. “Manny and Wyatt, you take the rifle and go back on the Tardis. I’ll drive the towboat.”

They all gape at me.

“They can’t sense me, right? I’m the only one who can do it.”