“I’ll be right back,” I say quickly, jumping up.
Liam weaves through the crowd before slipping out the door to the back patio. When I get outside, the night air is crisp around me. Liam’s facing away as he stands at the railing, looking toward the parking lot. We’re alone out here, but I want to ask him about that first night I came back. How he knew me and James.
“Hey,” I say, drawing his attention. When he turns, I’m startled. Dark circles ring his eyes, and his hair is matted. Unwashed. It strikes me then that he’s sick. Oh, God. He’s sick.
“Sloane.” His mouth pulls into a sneer, anger and hatred painting his features. “Did they send you to collect me? Are they recruiting returners now?”
My heart begins to thud in my chest, the idea that Liam’s dangerous backing me slowly toward the door. “No one sent me,” I say. “I just wanted to ask you something, but never mind. It’s not that important.”
Liam lunges, his shoulder banging against the door to stop me from opening it. I gasp and step back.
“I’d love to hear your question,” he says, his eyes wild and unfocused.
“I just want to go inside,” I say softly. “Move and I won’t—”
“Won’t what? Report me? Of course you will.”
He’s right. I will report him the first chance I get. He’s infected. He can infect others. “Let me through, Liam,” I say.
He stares at me, and then leans closer as if whispering a secret. “Do you remember me?” he asks.
“I remember you calling me a freak.”
He smiles. “Before that.”
There’s a twist in my gut. “No.” Just then the handle of the door turns, but Liam keeps his weight on it, preventing it from opening. I think about calling for help, or running, but at the same time, I don’t want to draw that kind of attention to myself.
“We dated,” he says, a bit of satisfaction in his voice. “Nothing serious, but they took that memory anyway. What else did they take? Don’t you see what you are? You’re empty. You’re nothing. And I’d rather be dead than be like you.”
My lip begins to quiver as I’m filled with shame and humiliation, but mostly anger. I reach out to push him, only succeeding in making him stagger a step. He laughs, and then coughs, bringing his hand to his mouth. When he pulls it away, there’s blood smeared across his fingers.
“What’s wrong with you?” I ask, stepping back.
“QuikDeath,” he says. “Because there’s no point. We’ll never be free of The Program, and even when we are, who’s to say they don’t change the rules? That they don’t come after us as adults? My cousin?” Liam says, tears beginning to gather in his eyes. “He killed himself yesterday. He was twenty-one, Sloane. That means the epidemic is evolving.”
“Or maybe he just committed suicide,” I say, my stomach in knots. Fists pound on the other side of the door, shaking it.
Liam coughs again, spitting blood onto the patio. Red streaks his lips. He’s going to die. He’s going to die if I do nothing to stop it. I reach to take out my phone, but Liam slaps it from my hand, sending it across the wooden planks.
His eyes momentarily roll back in his head before he focuses on me again. His body convulses. And then he collapses against the door, sliding to the ground, his eyes locked on mine. “You’re no one,” he whispers before he goes still altogether.
I pause only a second, my breaths coming out in quick gasps like I might hyperventilate. The door shakes again, and I decide that I can’t be here when they find him. I can’t be involved in this. So I run, grabbing my phone on the way, and scramble down the stairs into the parking lot of the Wellness Center. I text Lacey and tell her that I’m at the car. We have to leave. Now.
As I wait there, hiding, people flood the patio. Handlers move people aside, the Wellness staff clearly horrified that someone would commit suicide in such a safe place. I block out all the things that Liam told me. I block out his theories. Because an ache in my forehead is pulsing, worse than it was earlier.
When Lacey reaches me, she looks frazzled. She doesn’t say a word as we speed away, leaving the Wellness Center behind us. When we’re a safe distance away, she finally turns to me.
“Who was it?” she asks. “Who terminated?” Her face is pale with fear.
“Liam.”
Her eyes widen. Then she turns back to the road, pressing her lips together. “Did you see it?”
“Yeah.”
“You were smart to get out of there. Things are getting crazy. You feel it too, right?”
And I do. But I’m not sure I can handle any more talk of the epidemic tonight, not when my head is killing me. “Yes, but I have to get home,” I say. “I don’t want my parents to worry.” But really, I have something else in mind. I need to talk about tonight, both about my dad and about Liam. I need to talk to someone who’ll understand. I need James.
“Your parents?” Lacey sounds surprised. Then she tightens her grip on the steering wheel. “Maybe you’re not as rebellious as I thought.” She pulls up to the corner before my house. “Better get out here,” she says. “Wouldn’t want my car to give you away.”
Her voice is tense, and I think she’s shaken by the suicide. I just hope it’s not enough to make her sick again. To make any of us sick.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
LATER THAT NIGHT, AS MY PARENTS SLEEP, I TAKE A massive amount of Advil, get into my mother’s car, and drive to see James.
At the curb, I exhale and gaze at his large white house, wondering where his room is. I want to tell him that my father confirmed that Brady killed himself. And I want to tell him about what Liam said about the epidemic, and how I had to watch him die from QuikDeath.
In my hand, my phone vibrates. I hope my parents haven’t realized that I’m missing. I check the screen.
WHY ARE YOU SITTING OUTSIDE OF MY HOUSE, STALKER?
I close my eyes. I’m just about to shove my phone back into my pocket and peel out, when it vibrates again. I shouldn’t even read it.
STAY THERE.
Yeah, right. I can’t face him now. I turn the ignition, but a figure streaks across the lawn toward my car. I swear under my breath and wait.
A second later the door opens, flooding me with uncomfortable light as James gets in. When we’re immersed in dark again, I feel him staring at me. “Well?” he asks.