I don’t know if I slept at all, but I do know that when sunlight streamed through the windows, I didn’t feel the least bit rested. I ate breakfast with Alex and Patrick, all of us chewing our food silently, alone with our thoughts. Only Cassius didn’t know what was going on, slurping his food out of his bowl with relish.

We stayed together for Patrick’s afternoon lookout shift on the bleachers but found even less to say. Alex sat one bench down from Patrick and rested her head in his lap. As he gazed out the window, he stroked her long, long hair. Cassius had scaled the bleachers with me, and I was petting his neck until I noticed the parallel and felt stupid enough to stop.

Nine hours till he died.

I cleared my throat. “They were taking the kids to Lawrenceville,” I said. “Maybe we could go there. We could confront the Hosts, find some solution.”

“Chance,” Patrick said in that parental voice he barely ever used with me. “We won’t make it in time. You know that.”

“And there’s no confronting them,” Alex said. “They don’t exactly show reason.”

I said, “It’s better than staying here and just … giving up.”

“I’m not giving up,” Patrick said. “But the little time I have left I want to spend with Alex. And with you.”

JoJo came up and tugged at my sleeve. “You said you’d get my Frisbee.”

“There are too many Hosts out there right now.”

“But you promised.”

My nerves were so worn that even JoJo was bothering me. “Look, I’ll get it when it’s safe. I’m not gonna risk my life for your dumb Frisbee.”

The moment I saw her reaction, I regretted what I’d said, but she slinked off before I could apologize.

Patrick just looked at me. It was enough.

“Come on, Little Rain,” Alex said.

I wheeled on her. “Stop calling me that.”

She recoiled. I didn’t realize how cutting my tone was until I saw her expression.

Even from his post by the doors, Ben overheard, his gaze tilting up. I wanted to be alone, to hide where no one could see me. I stomped down the benches and headed to the bathroom. After splashing cold water on my face, I stared down my dripping reflection in the mirror.

When I came back into the gym, I plopped down on my cot rather than be a third wheel and disrupt the lovebirds. I tried to rest, tried to calm myself, tried to stop the flood of my thoughts.

Six hours till he died.

Over by the dry-erase board, Ben set about rabble-rousing, gaining more followers. As I jotted in my notebook, his voice rolled across the gym floor. “We gotta stay alert and dig in here.”

“And then what?” one kid asked.