“I’m alive.” Like she doesn’t believe it. “How?”

“These.” He pulls out a handful of the mushrooms. By now the purple glow has dimmed to a violet miasma.

“Death’s Head,” she says.

“Yeah. A lucky find.”

“Lucky.” But the way she says it, it sounds like she’s not so sure.

An explosion sounds from somewhere beneath them. It reminds Mookie of the dynamite blasts down in the Sandhog tunnels. Davey Morgan, even back then, was the Master of the Blast. He’d say, “Every explosion is a snowflake, you see? Every type of rock, every shape of the wall, needs a charge designed for it. Gotta find the right touch to bring it down proper-like. You don’t caress it just so…” He’d clap his hands together. Cloud of dust from slapped palms. “Boom.” Then he’d go about designing the borehole pattern that would open the tunnel but not bring the whole thing falling down on their heads, a cascading pattern of holes fitted for the dynamite–

Pattern of holes.

Pattern of dots.

Blast.

Bone dry.

“That’s it,” he says. A shiver runs through him.

“What?” Nora asks, weakly.

“That’s what you were mumbling about. A pattern of dots. Blast. Bone dry.” He closes his eyes. Rubs his face with his one good hand. “They’re going to kill New York City. The whole. Damn. City.”

Skelly stands outside for a while, drawing breath.

But then, inside, she hears something: a cough.

Someone is still alive in there.

Impossible. Through all that…

There, again: the cough.

She has to go back inside. Just to see. Just to make sure.

She creeps back inside.

Don’t look, don’t look, don’t look. Eyes shut. They’re all dead. Nothing worth lookin’ at, sugar-pop. Don’t breathe through your nose.

She almost steps on an eyeball.

Then almost throws up again.

From behind her, the cough. Sharp. Wet. It almost scares her out of her own skin.

In the corner, both legs broken in multiple places, is Carly Espinoza. The head – and only female member – of the Railroaders. Blood wets her chin.

“I know you,” she bubbles. And coughs again.

“Carly, I’m so sorry…”

“Ain’t right. Ain’t… human. What he did. What he was. One minute he was the Boss and some of us was gearin’ up to maybe bring his ass down – and next minute he’s something else. Big and fast. Like an animal. Like the Devil.” Her eyes lose focus.

Skelly kneels down. Holds Carly’s hands.

“Guess he thought I was… dead. I ain’t dead, motherfucker,” Carly says. “I’m gonna kill him, girl. Gonna… kill him ten different ways.”

“I know.” Skelly doesn’t know what to say. She wants to run, go back outside and throw up again, forget all this ever happened. And yet, she remains. Stay hard. You’re tough. You gotta be. “What happened?”