“Fourteen hostages, by the way. There are five Fallen, one Valefor, two people from the Clans, and someone who might be the guy in charge of the bikers. I spent a while looking, and I’m seeing ghosts now, I think.”

“Not good that that’s a thing,” Capricorn said. “But this is good to know.”

He extended a hand down toward Chris, who was still camouflaged, albeit less tidily than before. He straightened, moving his arm like he was pulling Chris to his feet.

“Fuck,” Chris hissed. Things clattered to the dirt around him. Some were camouflaged. Others were containers. “I thought you were shaking my hand or something.”

“What is that?” I asked.

“Food. Because I need to fuel up, and my next form is dense. Some meds. Plus my Walkman and Pocket Atari, and some other stuff. I was sorting out my stuff after getting dressed again.”

“Walkman?” Capricorn asked.

“We’re post-end of the world, I’m not going to bring my phone and risk it getting broken or losing it and having someone use it to figure out my secret identity. Fuck, it’s hard to see it now that it’s not on me.”

“You can’t bring all this stuff,” Capricorn said.

“Fuck off,” Chris replied. “I do things how I do them.”

Capricorn sighed faintly and bent down to help. I took Capricorn’s spot at the corner of the building, peering carefully around.

Chris protested, barely audible but clearly pissed. “No, don’t help. You’re just moving it around, and it’s hard enough to keep track of things when holes are appearing in everything.”

“Holes?” Capricorn asked.

“Holes. Flesh with holes in it like it’s rotting, but round, fleshy, and damp, ground with pockmarks, walls with more holes, and—” his voice became slightly higher pitched as the intensity of them ratcheted up, “Things are looking at me or wriggling on the other side of the holes. It’s not the coolest! I’m trying not to think about it!”

“Shh,” I said.

They stopped talking, but Chris continued to rummage and rustle, and Capricorn stood back, arms folded.

Conversation continued in the distance, as the people managing the hostages talked. I could peer around the corner and past a tree to see a slice of things between two buildings, but it wasn’t much. I didn’t want to move too much and alert anyone.

“Problem?” Sveta asked.

“I wanted to see if I could overhear anything. Chris is seeing things, why aren’t they affected? Is it selective?”

“I couldn’t tell you,” she said.

“I’m going around,” Sveta said. She swayed a little and touched the wall with one hand to steady herself.

“Okay. Be careful. Don’t let them affect you like they did Chris.”