“The VNS can save humanity from this plague. All we ask is for your support, unilateral authority to do what needs to be done. And resources—we need both funding and manpower.”

She swept the chamber with her hard, confident gaze. “Our world has been invaded by demons, my friends. And we are the exorcists. Thank you.”

Once again, the auditorium erupted into applause. Everyone was on their feet, except for Michael’s small group. No one had noticed the most pressing issue: the VNS was going to kill every last Tangent in the world—and the humans right along with them. Michael couldn’t take it one more second. He got up, pushed his way down the row of seats and into the aisle, then ran for the exit, to the Portal outside Latvia’s antechamber.

He had to get out of the Sleep.

3

Michael thought he’d be hassled trying to leave the Latvian embassy after everything that had happened, but the guards just offered curt nods as he passed them on his way out into the streets of Washington, D.C.

Fog had crept back into the air. It cascaded over signs and buildings and cars, almost like a ghostly living thing. Michael’s shirt was damp, his hair as well, and by the time he’d walked through three or four intersections, he was feeling a bit dazed. People appeared like magic from the mist, passing him on the sidewalk, then vanishing once again behind him. Not many people were out—Michael figured that most were probably glued to the NewsBops, watching Weber’s grand performance over and over.

He kept walking. He would stop for a light, look for cars, and continue. From time to time he’d peek into store windows, as if his world hadn’t crumbled around his feet. He had absolutely no idea where he was going or what he was going to do, but he couldn’t go back. He couldn’t.

Bryson would be mad. Helga would be downright livid. And he didn’t care. He loved both of them, but he didn’t care. They’d find him later, or he’d find them. So he wandered, the beginnings of a terrible idea brewing in his mind. He wasn’t ready to pour it out, accept its awfulness. But he was heading straight for it, one way or another. And he had to do it by himself.

He walked on, swallowed by the mist.

4

The streets grew emptier the farther he went, even though the buildings got taller and wider and more modern. There was a river nearby, but he could only tell because of a giant bridge that loomed before him as he neared. It got to the point that he hardly saw a person every five minutes, and day began to fade into night, darkness seeping through the fog, sinister, deadly.