A bright puffy cloud has just doused the harsh sunlight directly overhead when the path widens again and we come across the gate bisecting the fences. Situated above the lever is a small metal bar with the letters XIX inscribed in it. For a brief moment it reminds me of the doorways in my village and how the Sisters inscribe every door with words from the Scripture.

I slide my hand over the letters the way I was taught to acknowledge the Scripture verses when I enter a room.

But instead of thinking about God, as we are supposed to, I think about Gabrielle.

I wonder what the relationship is between the letters Gabrielle wrote on the window, those burned into the trunk we found earlier and these, but I can't figure out a pattern. I look over to where Gabrielle pounds at the fence with an insane passion we have never seen in the Unconsecrated before. I wish I could ask her these things, comfort her, tell her to hush and then ask for her help.

Instead, I grasp the burning metal of the lever and am about to pull it when Cass gasps and steps forward from the others.

“What are you doing?” She shouts to be heard over Gabrielle. “You don't know what's out there. What that gate is for. What if there are Unconsecrated on the other side? Mary, you would kill us.”

“We don't have a choice,” I answer her as I pull the lever and the gate glides open, barely emitting a creak. I'm surprised at how heavy it is and I stand and hold it as the others slowly slip through.

Jed walks with a protective arm around Beth and already I notice how her eyes have sunk into her skull, how her footsteps have become less sure, how her brown hair hangs lank around her face. I try to grab my brother, to tell him that tonight he must take care of her. That she is too dangerous. But he shakes his head before I can speak and tells me that everything is under control.

I wonder, as Harry and Travis walk through the opening, if they see these changes in their sister. If they know what waits for her at the end of this day. The inevitability of it all.

I know that Jed still hasn't told them that Beth is infected, even though with every step we grow closer to her death.

I let the gate close softly once everyone is through. As I set the latch I find another small metal plate on this side of the gate. Etched in it are the letters XVIII—the same letters that were burned into the trunk. I struggle to put it all together, to figure out what these letters mean, but I can come to no conclusions. I shake my head and rub my finger along the metal. Its sharp edges cut into the pad of my thumb.