“I can help with the computers,” he says, an exact repetition of his words last night. “Where would you like me to start?”

Why is that my call? I bite my lip and force myself not to snap at him. Instead, I try to decide what makes sense. “The warden’s computer, if you can.”

“Of course.” He nods, takes another bite.

“Find everything you can about the disease. It should be all over the news. Find out what it looks like. How it spreads. What we can do.” It’s disconcerting that he doesn’t look at me, but he hears me. And this is more comfortable for him, so whatever. “Find out how we can keep each other safe.”

“Yes. Anything else?”

So much more, but nothing that’s pressing right now. “Find out if we can expect help? But keep that quiet for now.” I hate asking that, but if it spreads… “Let me know. No one else.”

Isaiah doesn’t seem fazed. If there’s one person here who sees all the possible options, all the possible complications, it’s him. He spends way too much time in his own head, but he seems to like it there, so who are we to tell him otherwise? It’s not like the real world is necessarily a better place to be.

By the time I make it halfway into the east wing, Logan and Casey are already carrying Leah out. My heart squeezes when I see them, when I see how pale and unresponsive Leah is. When I see Casey touch her. When I see the stains of her blood on her pajama shirt.

She’s barely conscious. Occasionally, her head lolls back and she coughs. Her breath sounds rasping and…wrong. I have no other word for it. It sounds like she’s trying to breathe but isn’t.

The few people who wander this hallway stay far away from the three of them, but their whispered worries echo against the concrete walls. Some of them physically back away.

A respiratory disease. Highly contagious.

Is this it? Is it starting?

I rub my eyes and try to get my thoughts in order. “You should bring her to the infirmary. I don’t know what medical equipment we have, but Isaiah is looking into what we can do.” If anything. “And we can quarantine her there.”

Logan snarls at those words, but Casey nods. “Stay back, Grace.”

I do. I push myself against the wall as they pass me, like those few feet will make a difference when we all spent time together last night.

Leah coughs again. I flinch.

I follow Casey and Leah to the commons and try to ignore the whispering behind us, around us, in front of us. The shocked looks. The panicked retreats. What is happening?

I’m not entirely sure either.

Casey notices the reactions and gently steers the long way around. Past the cafeteria, instead of through. Past the classroom and tiny little library with beat-up books and pages bound together without covers. He throws me a look over his shoulder. “Word will spread soon. You should talk to the others.”