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and my lips will be on hers. The first girl I’ve ever kissed, the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen in my life. The girl who was there before my mom left and every day after. The girl who’s always been my friend.
    I step back until her arms fall from around my neck and I stuff my hands in my pockets. My shoulders rise toward my ears in a tightness I can feel under every square inch of my skin. “I, um,” I mutter stupidly, “I’ll see you soon. I’ll try to be back soon.”
    Her smile falters. “Be careful.”
    “I’m always careful.”
    “Be extra careful. And promise me.”
    “Promise you what?”
    “That you’ll come back. There’s safety in numbers.”
    I hesitate, torn in half by desire and uncertainty. I want to come back. I want to be here to know she’s okay, but I know that she’s wrong. There is no safety in numbers right now. Just ask Oregon.
    “Goodbye, Zoe,” I say quickly, turning to leave without waiting for her reply.
    “Bye, Trent.”
    Her words follow me, her voice ringing in my ears even as I run through the now empty kitchen to grab my coat, throw my hood up over my head, and burst outside. I rush up the lawn in long strides. My legs take the distance and devour it with this man’s body I’m building and growing into, but inside I’m still a kid. I’m still a coward.
    The rain beats down hard on my head and my hands, making them slip precariously as I climb the high fence on the perimeter of the Farm. I drop down into the rain soaked earth on the other side, pull my knife from its sheath on my hip, and immediately take off at a dead sprint. I won’t keep this pace the entire way home, but I know how far I can manage it. I know my body, my limits. I also know it’s stupid to run with a knife in my hand, that I could fall and kill myself on it, but I feel solid holding onto it. I feel ready.
    As I run through the trees I see them changing color. They’re bleeding red, the edges of the map on the internet spilling over and creeping in around me. My eyes squint against the pelt of water in my face as I run behind the rain, ahead of the red, and the anxiety I felt over the leak in the roof reaches a crescendo that twists in my gut and pummels at my chest. A storm is coming, closing in on all sides. It’s surrounding us. Smothering us.
    Devouring us.
    When I get home I’m out of breath, my lungs screaming in my chest and burning like fire. I ran the whole way. Every last mile. I made it to the house in record time, but it’s going to cost me. I’ll be exhausted tonight and sore tomorrow and who knows what the next few days have in store.
    “Dad!” I shout as I hit the backyard. I easily hurdle the fence in one solid leap and careen toward the back door.
    He opens it just as I’m about to slam into it and he grabs me in a painful hug there in the entryway. My jacket drips onto the floor steadily, soaking the stone the way his boot did earlier and I feel like I’ll never be dry again. This rain will be here for five more days, drowning out the sounds of the forest. The sounds of danger coming, knocking at our door.
    “I was so worried,” he says roughly, his hands clinging to back of my jacket and pulling it tight against my body. “I was just about to come looking for you.”
    “You already know?”
    He steps back, his hands holding my shoulders. His eyes look wet but so does everything else in Washington. “Diane radioed me just a minute ago. Zoe told her what was happening, told her you left.” His eyes tighten angrily. “You should have waited there. I would have come to you.”
    “I’m sorry,” I reply breathlessly, my chest still heaving and burning from the run. “I just wanted to get out of there. There are too many people. If one has the Fever then they’ll all—”
    He reaches up and grasps the sides of my face. “I know. I understand.”
    “They’re going to die, aren’t they?”
    He flinches the way he always does when I say something too real. He