The amalgamation of barker and bad sound reminds Malorie of the Marquette County Fair.

Possibly the most unsettling aspect of all, for Malorie, is that, despite what Olympia sees…it sounds festive.

“Ahead,” Olympia says. “The buildings, the sidewalks, lined with more bodies. Oh, Mom. Oh, no. A kid.”

Malorie wants to demand why, why? What kind of community dumps the dead in the streets?

But she knows the answer.

One gone mad.

Altogether.

Unsafe.

An explosion of cheers tells Malorie the crowd is to the right of her, but the sound is still muffled. Distance to go.

“Step down,” Olympia says.

“It’s going to be okay,” Malorie says again. It’s all she can say. For all the preparations and hard work, for all the surviving she’s done, she has no better words for her daughter at this time.

She’s shaking.

But she tries. Because when they get to this crowd of people, when they finally reach the heart of Indian River, she’s going to need her wits.

They’re here for Tom.

“Up again,” Olympia says. “Onto the sidewalk.”

Her daughter guides her serpentine, and Malorie knows it’s because they’re avoiding the dead. How many have scissors in their chests? How many are surrounded by puddles of blood?

The crowd is more emphatic now. The woman’s voice through the megaphone. They sound hungry for whatever’s about to happen.

What’s about to happen?

Malorie can’t make out the words. Her mind is barely able to keep these elements together: the dead, a crowd, Gary, this town, her son.

Indian River is everything she is not and has never been.

People laugh. An eruption of genuine laughter. People jeer…a joke? The voice again. Riling up the crowd. Do the people wear folds?

Is everyone in Indian River out of their fucking minds?

“Stop,” Olympia says.

She pulls Malorie to the side of a building.

“What is it?” Malorie asks, shocked by the calm in her own voice. A calm she does not feel.

“So…Okay. So…”

“What is it?”

“It’s a park in the center of town. And a lot of people are in the park. Blindfolded.”

“Calm down, Olympia. We’re going to get your brother. We can do this.”

“Okay. And…and there’s a stage. Flags. Banners.”

Malorie’s heart breaks before Olympia says the words.

“And Tom’s on the stage,” Olympia says. “He’s standing next to…a mirror.”

The words feel plucked from Malorie’s personal darkness. As if they are made of the dark itself.

“Is he blindfolded?”

She didn’t mean to yell it.

“I can’t tell.”

“You what?”

“Mom, I can’t tell…”

“Okay we need to—”

“There’s a creature on the lawn in front of the stage. I don’t know how to explain this, Mom. Like it’s…waiting to see what happens.”

Malorie is already moving before Olympia finishes.