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grumbles. He flops to the floor beside me. Kelly looks down and frowns. “They give me the creeps.”
    â€œYou and me both, Jake,” I say.
    Kelly sneers and gets up and walks off.
    â€œWhere’s he going?” Jake asks.
    â€œMust have to go take another leak,” I answer. I’m sick of having to deal with petty jealousies.
    â€  † †
    â€œHow much further,” Ashley complains. It’s the first thing out of her mouth since we started up again nearly two hours ago—first coherent thing, anyway. Other than Micah mumbling, there hasn’t been much talk at all. The claustrophobic darkness of the tunnel and the unsettling way our footsteps echo and our breathing seems to be amplified all make us uneasy. I strain my ears, listening carefully for clues we’re being followed. So far, there’s been no indication we are.
    â€œMy feet are sore.”
    I glance over and give Ash a dirty look, though I doubt she can see it in the gloom. Kelly’s in front with the flashlight and all we have is the glow from our Links to keep the shadows at bay. Hell, I can barely even make out Stephen and he’s right next to me pushing Micah in the wheelchair. I can hear him, though, the dry rattle of his breathing and the squeak the chair has picked up in the past ten minutes. The sounds are really starting to get on my nerves.
    Reggie and Jake bring up the rear, Tanya slung between them. She’s conscious, but still completely useless. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she was faking it. The suspicion makes me feel a little guilty. She looks miserable. But then again, we all do.
    I know I’m responsible for her being in this situation. Me and no one else. Arc had been monitoring the Stream for pings to Kelly and when I met Tanya on the bus coming back from Hartford the day I applied for my replacement Link. I’d used hers to see if Kelly had come back from rescuing Jake. That’s the only reason she’s here, because I’d borrowed her Link. It’s the only reason she was kidnapped and why she’s had a new implant put inside her brain. It’s the only reason she’s now trapped here on Long Island with us. And it’s the only reason Arc planned to inject her with whatever Stephen injected into me on the tram.
    I reach up and feel my neck again. The bleeding there has stopped and formed a hard, crusty scab. Whatever the alpha treatment is—whatever was inside that syringe—it still doesn’t seem to have had any effect on me.
    Yet.
    â€œCan we rest?” Ashley asks.
    Really? What does she have to complain about? At least she’s got shoes on—brand new ones, even. I’m back to being barefoot, since I returned Tanya’s shoes. They were killing me anyway, squishing my toes together, giving me blisters. Thankfully, the floor of the tunnel isn’t all that bad. Or maybe it’s because the bottoms of my feet are covered in such a thick layer of greaser and grime that I might not even feel it if I did happen to step on something sharp.
    â€œStuffy,” Ash says. “Hot.” And when I don’t answer, she moves up to see if Kelly will give her any sympathy.
    When the others aren’t looking, I slip the inhaler from my pocket and take a hit. My grandfather’s words come back to me: You’re special, Jessie. You need that medicine so you won’t get sick. It’s just wishful thinking, I know, but it does make me feel better, and you know what they say about healing: it’s fifty percent psychological.
    Kelly keeps dropping back to ask me how I’m feeling. He touches my forehead, checks my eyes. I can see the wonder in his eyes. He’s puzzled too. Nobody else knows yet. Neither of us has said anything to them.
    But we’ll have to. Soon.
    Eventually.
    Maybe.
    I look over at Stephen. He hasn’t spoken in at least three hours now. He just keeps walking, stepping and