The world around me seems to speed up and I suddenly feel dizzy, everything spinning. The platform ladders have all been pulled up or pushed aside. The Cathedral is closed. There's nowhere left.

Except for the path, I realize. Except for the gate Gabrielle came through when she first entered the village so many weeks ago. Back before, when she was healthy.

I turn and sprint, Harry behind me. I hear the sound of too many feet in pursuit. I'm sure Gabrielle is chasing us. As we draw near the gate the siren begins to wail again, alerting the villagers to what I already know—the platforms are full, those left on the ground must seek other refuge.

The fence bulges where the Unconsecrated who haven't found their way in push against it, the smell of fresh blood in the air driving them insane with hunger. My fingers feel clumsy as I fumble with the latch on the gate and then Harry is behind me, pressing against me, his breath hot and fast in my ear.

Finally, the latch gives and he pushes us through with such force that I stumble and fall down on the path, my palms stinging. I turn back just as Argos slips through. The gate crashes shut and Gabrielle slams against it, her mouth open, blood trailing from her chin.

I close my eyes, hold my breath, let the siren pulse through my body, for once grateful that the sound is so overwhelming that it takes over and blocks my other senses. I do not want to see right now. Or hear or feel or smell.

But my body screams for air and the stench of death filters through me. I get to my feet and walk back to the gate we came through, pushing Harry's hand off my shoulder as he tries to stop me. An arm's length away, I stop. I stand and face Gabrielle.

I look death in the eye.

Her fingers are all broken; some have bone pushing through the flesh. Her arms are ragged and yet she flings herself at me with a passion that will not end until her body is too spent to stand and still she will crawl onward.

The siren halts its wail again and the sound is replaced by the rattle of the fence as Gabrielle lunges against it again and again, her broken teeth clacking as her jaws snap in anticipation. But her eyes are still clear—that clarity of the newly Unconsecrated. And she stares at me as if I am her only salvation.

I realize I am standing on the path that she traveled to our village and it's now she who is trapped on the other side of the gate. I want to ask her who she is, where she came from and what she wants from me. Why we are connected in this place.