“We’ve never done that before,” she said in a husky voice. “I would remember.”

I laughed—low and raw—amazed I could draw enough air.

“So why does it feel like I’ve met you before?” she whispered and gripped my chin, forcing me to see her.

“I don’t know why,” I replied, twisting my head. It took everything I had not to kiss her again, to finish what we had started. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

She caressed my cheek for a moment, then let her hand drop. “I don’t know what I want you to say either.”

A sudden downpour, and a gust of wind slammed against the floor-to-ceiling windows as heavy rain pelted from the heavens, obscuring the weighted silence that hung between us.

•  •  •

Victor and I were back on the National Taiwan University campus to meet Arun by six p.m.. He was unshaven, with dark circles under his eyes, but ecstatic, because he and his team were able to manufacture over two hundred antidotes. And they were making more. Victor had hired a nondescript blue van for us to drive to Wanhua, a district in the southwest of Taipei, where sightings of the large warehouses with sick meis trapped within had been confirmed. It had been decided that an aircar would have drawn too much attention. I helped Arun load the syringes carefully placed in sealed holding trays into the back of the van. Arun showed us how to wear the hazmat suits, and we put them on before starting off.

As Victor drove through the streets of Taipei, I couldn’t stop thinking of Daiyu, and that staggering kiss we had shared. She had left right after, and we said nothing more to each other than good-bye. She wanted the truth, and I couldn’t give it to her.

Rooftop billboards beamed down on us—beautiful men and women trying to sell us beautiful things. The chill wind swept through my rolled-down window, rough against my face. We had discussed our plans and strategies while on campus, but had fallen silent during the drive. I was nervous but excited. If my friends and I could help meis infected with Jin’s virus, it would seriously curb the flu’s spread. A sense of anticipation seemed to fill the van, and I knew Arun and Vic were eager to get to our first site too.

Victor parked on a deserted main road in Wanhua, empty of cars and people. A few gaping storefronts lined one side of the street, and the other side was dominated by the remains of an abandoned park, overgrown with brush and weeds. A large concrete warehouse stood adjacent to the park—what used to be a biscuit factory. The street lamps were few, and the ones that were working provided scant light. We got out of the van and slipped on our full face respirators.