I nod and pull him into one of the vacant buildings that dot the block. We step over the pile of bricks that block the entryway. Something skitters into the darkness as we walk in, but judging by the sound, it’s too small to be a threat. This place must’ve been a restaurant based on the faded sandwich posters curling off the wall. Booths with faded yellow seats line one wall. The cracked remains of a soda fountain stands next to the cash register. Ethan walks over and pushes the lever but nothing happens. Subway, the sign reads in big yellow letters. I thought subways were transportation.

My eyes flick through the dark shadows, examining every doorway. My skin crawls and my heart can’t stop pumping way too fast. Part of me expects Hatch to come barreling out, hands hooked to tear me apart. We left him behind hours ago, but the look on his face as he tore through the house haunts me.

We lean against a debris-littered counter and stare at the glittering hospital.

“What’s the plan?” Ethan asks.

I gotta get him out of here. He’s sucking in far too much plaster dust and mold. He rests a hand on the counter and leaves a palm print in the dust.

“The plan is I get in somehow and you stay here.”

“No way.” He shakes his head back in forth. “I’m going.”

“Ethan, it’s not safe. I can’t take you in there.”

“I can’t stay out here,” he whines as he looks around the dark, cobwebbed space.

I think of what Clay said at the fire. Before I can stop it, an image on Ethan swims up before me. His face is slack and white. Blood splatters his chest. I shake it away. “You stay here.”

“If you don’t take me,” he says, his fists tightening, his face screwing up into that look of defiance he rarely uses, “then I’ll … I’ll go knock on the front door. They’ll let me in.” He juts out his chin.

“Ethan!” I scowl. “You’re being impossible.” I slump in a booth, streaking the dust on the tabletop. He frowns at me from across the room. The stubborn set of his mouth matches mine. And I don’t wanna leave him out here alone and unarmed. He could get in as much trouble here as inside with me.

“Fine,” I say, staring out at the glowing hospital. “But you do absolutely everything I say, when I say it.” I point my finger at him. “No questions.”

He nods, his fists loosening.

“And if I say run, you run and don’t stop. Not for me. Not for anyone. You got me?”

He nods.