Each diminishing ring of land that he passed grew more crowded with tiny cabins, shabby huts, and tents—although there were far fewer of those, now—squeezed in amongst trees, the ground littered with trash. He had a sense that his captors had purposefully dropped them off in a spot still considered the outskirts of the Crank Palace, not fully developed yet—probably planned at one point but abandoned. Most of the structures had broken windows, the glass long missing by the looks of it. He could only assume that shards of glass were the chief weapon around these parts.

He didn’t see many people—just a few spotted here and there, mostly a quick glimpse of their backs as they disappeared into whatever shack they considered their home, closing the door behind them. He heard a lock engage every now and then, wondering what good they did in such shabbily built structures. More than a few sets of eyeballs peered out at him as he walked by, giving him the shivers. He chided himself for not grabbing his Launcher before taking the walk; he could’ve kept it hidden inside the backpack. Right then he’d settle for the knife he also left behind and considered searching the area for a stray piece of glass.

Before his next thought could collect itself, a man stood in front of him, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. He had a glazed look in his eyes, staring at Newt but more like he stared through Newt, into some otherworldly distance that made him happy. He had a look of...

Bliss.

Bliss.

Newt’s own mind did something like hiccup inside his skull. The memories that continued to strain against the dam of the Swipe bulged outward, for a moment mixing with his recent recollections. He knew what the Bliss was. A drug given to the Flare-infected that was supposed to stall the effects and symptoms of the brain-destroying disease. Looking at this man in front of him, swaying on his feet as if to some unheard tune, eyes glossed over, an expression of delirious glee on his face, Newt wondered. Maybe the drug just got you high so you could forget for a while. Who knew? Newt had stopped walking but started again, stepping around the stranger.

“Don’t you want some?” the man asked. “I heard they’re gonna stop giving it out soon. Better get it while you can.”

Without any shame, with complete awareness that he was the kind of person for whom the drug had been intended, Newt said, “Yeah, I want some. Got any?”

The man made a weird noise that might’ve been a chuckle. “Now why in the hell would I have asked you that if I didn’t have any?” Another chuckle, snort, whatever that sound was that came out of his nose with a little spray of snot. “How much you got to pay for it?”

“How much I got?” Newt sighed. “I got nothin’.”