Justine picks up a scalpel and taps the animal’s hind leg with its blunt end. “This is the largest of the rats we found in Parco Serra Gropallo. I call him Vin Diesel.”

“Why?”

“I name all my animals, alive or dead. And this one kind of reminds me of the action movie actor. You know? A buff alpha-male type. Bet he was a real lady-killer in his day!”

“Oh, God.” Alana can’t help but chuckle.

Justine flips the scalpel over and reaches for a pair of forceps. “Okay, Vin, let’s see what’s under the hood!”

She pinches the skin at the base of the rat’s abdomen with the forceps’ teeth, lifts it up, and incises it with the scalpel. Once she’s created a small cut in the lower center, she runs a pair of pointed scissors upward, opening the flaps of skin and fur on either side like unzipping a jacket, exposing the shiny lining of tissue, known as the peritoneum, beneath. She slices through the peritoneum using a similar technique, and the intestines and liver spill out of the opening. Finally, she uses the scissors to chew through the animal’s breastbone, revealing the heart and lungs underneath.

Justine says nothing as she leans forward and examines the organs using two slim metal probes, occasionally exploring with her fingertip. Finally, she drops the probe on top of the stack of used tools. “Nada,” she says.

“Meaning?”

“No lung involvement. No lymph nodes. No skin buboes. Nothing. This animal was never sick with the plague.”

“But you’re certain he was infested with the same fleas that carried the plague.”

“Positive.”

“Perfect.” Even though it only confirms what they already suspected, Alana’s heart still sinks. “How do you stop an outbreak when the carriers are the only ones immune to it?”

Justine doesn’t reply. Instead, she folds the abdominal skin flaps back into place. She motions to the overlying brindle markings and white patches. “A very unusual pattern.”

“How so?”

“I’ve never seen these kinds of markings on a black rat. And look.” She flips the rat over and pries opens his mouth, exposing two long yellowish teeth above and below. “You see the size of his upper two incisors relative to his lower ones?”

“They look about the same to me.”

“Exactly! Usually a rat’s lower incisors are twice as long as his upper ones.”

“Wait, Justine, are you suggesting that this rat isn’t native to Parco Serra Gropallo?”

“Forget the park. I’m saying I don’t know of another black rat anywhere that matches this particular sub-breed.”

Chapter

Forty-One

Today is the twenty-fourth day of February. I mustered strength enough to go to market today. I confess I went with trepidation. I was most relieved to not encounter any of the flagellants or their devotees. In truth, I met few people along the way, for the market was a site of great desolation. I spotted only three vendors at the market, whereas in the time before the pestilence there would have been scores present. Even the dead and dying were few to be found. I wonder if it is possible that the plague has run out of fresh victims.