вЂњYou know my brother.вЂќД«en nods carefully. вЂњMy name is Nugget now, Cassie,вЂќ Sam informs me. вЂњI sit in front of you in Honors Chemistry.вЂќД«en shakes his head like heвЂ™s clearing out the cobwebs. вЂњWe go to the same high school,вЂќ I say, drawing my fingers hastily through my chopped-off locks. I pull off the cap, thinking it might help him recognize me, then immediately regret it. вЂњZombie?вЂќ I say, because I really havenвЂ™t heard that name before. вЂњCassie?вЂќ Like heвЂ™s never heard the name before. Is my memory bad or is he lowering it on purpose, to sound older? вЂњWhere are you taking him?вЂќ Ben says to me in a deep voice. The last time she saw him was in their high school gymnasium after the lights went out, and then only the back of his head, and the only times that sheвЂ™s seen him since happened in her mind, the rational part of which always knew Ben Parish was dead like everyone else. Here, in the belly of the beast at the bottom of the world, standing right in front of me.ДЄnd Cassiopeia Marie Sullivan, having a full-bore out-of-body experience, seeing herself seeing him. A thousand years later and a million miles from the halls of George Barnard High School.

The eyes sunk deep into their sockets, kind of glazed over, like heвЂ™s sick or hurt, but I recognize it, I know whose face was hidden behind that mask.

IвЂ™d hate to see the look on my face when that mask came down and I saw the face behind it. My little brother hops onto his toes his fingers tear at the doctorвЂ™s mask and yank it down. Long enough for a little boy who doesnвЂ™t know the first rule to leap between the gun and the rifle. I level the silencer at his chest as his hand emerges from the pocket. This is the first rule of the last war: Trust no one. I have one half of one half second to decide.

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