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mattered to her. It was all noise in the background.
    Hands trembling, I whipped the hoodie off and let it fall to the floor. Then I lifted the rock above my head and slammed it down onto the floor. The sound was muffled a bit by the thick fleece.
If only I’d brought the travel backpack with me when I’d gone out.
I pounded the floor again.
If only I’d been more careful with the pills.
I brought the rock down again.
If only I’d seen the Green who handed me the pills.
Again.
If only . . .
Again.
If only . . .
    So many
if only
s made my arms ache. All that was left of my frustration was the burn of tears pressing against the backs of my eyes.
    I let the rock fall onto the sweatshirt one final time. My body crumpled over it. I pressed my forehead to the rough outer shell of the geode, my chest heaving with regrets.
    God, I wanted to be strong enough to do this all on my own. To take this latest disaster in stride, but—
    There was a noise in the hall, so soft I barely heard it over my ragged breathing, but I stilled instantly. I crouched there on the floor, bent over the rock, holding my breath as I listened. And tried to remember what exactly that sound was.
    Something I knew well, even though I hadn’t heard it in months. A sort of mechanical swoosh, as unfamiliar to me now as the turning of a key in a car ignition or the chime over the door at the yogurt shop where I had worked after school.
    I sucked in a breath. Elevator doors. I’d heard elevator doors opening. Someone had come up to the seventh floor. Someone not afraid of getting stuck in an elevator if one of the blackouts rolled across campus. Or someone too lazy to walk up the stairs, which described pretty much all the Collabs.
    I thought instantly of the guy in the gray sweatshirt.
No.
    Had he really been that fast? I’d been counting on it taking longer for him to find a Collab and cut some kind of deal.
    I rocked forward onto the balls of my feet and stood, hardly daring to breathe. The door leading out into the hall was open. I crept one step and then another until I was tucked behind the open door. I couldn’t see much through the crack between the door and jamb, so I squeezed my eyes shut, listening, as I considered my options.
    Even if there was just one Collab out there, we were screwed. Before Mel had reorganized the closet, I’d known exactly where the CRC handbook was, and with it, my only weapon: the gardening shears. But now?
    My breath caught in my chest as the realization hit me. I had the shiv. Not for the first time I wondered: would I really kill someone if I had to? In the Before, I didn’t even like to kill bugs. And I’d puked the time our old Siamese cat, Trickster, had left a dead bunny on our porch. How could I kill a person? Could I do it to protect Mel? I drew in a shuddering breath, my heart thudding so loudly, I was sure he’d hear it.
    Why not? Why not at least
try
to take out the Collab? If there was only one, then I had a shot. It was sure as hell better than waiting for him to go get reinforcements.
    I could hear footsteps in the hall. Coming closer. Was it one guy or two?
    I stood there for a torturous minute, listening to his steady footsteps. Each pause of his stride, punctuated by the sound of a knob turning and a door sliding open and shutting with an ominous click. Only one guy, I was almost certain. But these weren’t the sounds of casual exploring. This was a methodical search. He was looking for us.
    And he would find me. Soon.
    I’d carelessly left the door to this classroom open. It was a miracle he hadn’t noticed it already.
    Wedged between the door and the wall, heart pounding, eyes squeezed shut, I reached down and slid the shiv free of my belt loop, my palm damp against the metal handle. Through the gap between the door and the doorjamb, I saw a flash of gray pass. Not the blue of a Collab’s uniform but the heathered gray of a sweatshirt. I pushed aside the doubt that flickered through me. Then