I felt a little bad about that—there might be people fleeing the burning city, and people in the process of running for their lives will often to choose to do so at unsafe speeds. Someone could get seriously hurt. People could even be killed. But try as I might, I couldn’t work up more than the very mildest of irritation over the potential plight of people I didn’t even know. I’d never been the biggest fan of the human race. Now, it was like they were all blending into one big, amorphous “them,” something to be afraid of and to fight, not something to be concerned about.

Graham was a shadow on the road ahead of me. I looked at the back of his neck, trying to remember what it was like to kiss him without considering how he would taste, stripped naked and bleeding out for my delight. The thought was delicious and revolting at the same time. I shuddered, trying to chase it away. It clung, stubborn as a burr.

A hand touched my elbow. I looked back, and saw Tahlia looking at me with concern.

“Slow a bit, if you would,” she said. “I would speak with you.”

I slowed the pace of my steps, not saying anything as I looked at her expectantly. She smiled, leaving her hand resting against my elbow. The light was low enough that she almost looked normal. That was a nice thing. The sight of her—and Jeff, and myself—in heavy foundation had been jarring. We weren’t supposed to look like that anymore. We had never really been meant to look like that in the first place.

“You seem troubled,” she said. “What’s bothering you?”

“I don’t…” The words seemed suddenly complicated. I wasn’t sure how to pin them down. Finally, wanly, I said, “I don’t feel right.”

“Your thoughts are taking turns you don’t expect. It’s almost like someone else is thinking them for you, and you’re trying, very hard, not to wonder whether that pollen the scouts mentioned has been rewriting your mind.”

This time, I was silent not because I didn’t know what to say, but because I couldn’t do anything but stare at her.

Tahlia’s smile was small and tight. “It’s no mystery. I think we’re all asking ourselves the same thing. I don’t … I have never been a big fan of people. I was a forestry worker before this began to accelerate. I watched over the trees in Newfoundland, and I told myself that it was normal for me to feel more akin to them than to the man who signed my paycheck. I worked very hard at playing human, even as I made sure everyone I met knew I was no such thing. The nice ones thought I was eccentric. The rest thought I was crazy.”