The sofa and chairs had been pushed against the walls. Arun was crouched over Iris, feeling for the pulse at her wrist, then resting his gloved hand against her brow. He wore his yellow hazmat suit that I knew he kept at his lab for experiments. It was as if we were in a biological warfare zone.

The window was shuttered, and he had the lights dimmed, so the room felt dark and somber, reminding me of a crypt. Arun lifted his eyes. I could see they were red-rimmed, even behind his full face mask.

“Zhou.” His voice was rough, muffled. “I was coming over to give Lingyi an update.”

It hadn’t taken more than a few days for Arun to confirm that the H7N9S sample I had taken from Jin Corp was the mutated airborne strain that had been released in Liberty Square.

“I’ve been working nonstop to try and get my antidote to work,” Arun said. “I’m so close, I can almost feel my mother’s presence in the lab with me.” He drew a long breath that shook.

My friend shifted his gaze to the girls. He appeared insect-like with the gear obscuring his face. “When I arrived, they were both already fevered and delirious.”

I knew for certain they hadn’t gotten ill from me. I had stayed away from all my friends while I was still contagious. But the flu was too widespread now, with a panicked government that had done nothing to intervene.

Arun struggled to his feet, as if he were an old man instead of eighteen. “Don’t worry. You can’t catch the same flu twice. That’s why I didn’t bring a respirator for you.”

“They’re not protected,” I said, panic rising. My throat worked. “They’ve never had the avian flu.”

In that moment, we both jumped from the loud thudding at the front door. “Let me in!” Victor shouted.

Arun sighed and clicked on his Palm to speak through the hidden intercom over the door. “We can’t risk you getting sick too, Victor.”

“Zhou’s there,” Victor said accusingly.

“He’s already had this flu.”

“I don’t give a shit,” he shouted, sounding completely unlike himself. I’d never heard Victor raise his voice before. The front door thudded again, even louder this time. Victor was kicking at it—with his expensively made shoes. He must be pissed. Frantic. “Let me in!” he roared.

Arun and I exchanged glances and he shrugged, pulling a full face respirator from his backpack along with a pair of gloves. “He’ll lose it if we don’t let him in,” he said, and released the door a breadth, so Victor couldn’t push his way in. “Put these on first. No guarantee you won’t catch it, though. Your risk to take.”