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That hen she realized it The virus was gone

Not trans and A other traits intact The virus was nowhere inside her at all Somehow the water had killed it, and then returned her to life

Hoas this possible? Had Fanning lied to her? But when she searched her memory she realized he had never told her, in so many words, that the water would kill her, she as neither wholly viral nor wholly human but poised between the two Perhaps he had sensed the truth; perhaps he simply hadn’t known What irony! She had hurled herself off the fantail of the Bergensfjord intending to die, yet it was the water that had been her salvation in the end

But to be alive To smell and hear and taste the world in proper proportion To be alone in one’s mind at last She inhaled the sensation like the purest air How a, hoondrous and unexpected To be purely and sie of the city told her so first, then the bodies, curled and crua Perhaps the others were searching for her; perhaps they weren’t, believing her dead On theIt was Michael "Hello!" His voice ricocheted through the becalmed streets "Hello! Is anybody there?" Michael! she answered Find me! I’m here! But then she realized that she had not, in fact, spoken these words aloud

It was very puzzling Why would she not call out to him? What was this impulse to be silent? Why could she not tell hione

She waited for the e The days moved by When it rained, she set pots outside the store to catch the drops, and in that h she had neither food nor the means to locate it, a fact that seereat deal: whole nights, , deep states of unconsciousness in which she drea eirl, sitting outside the wall of the Colony At others, a young wo the Watch with cross and blades She dreamed of Peter She dreamed of Amy She dreamed of Michael She dreanificent Soldier Whole days, whole episodes of her life replayed before her eyes

But the greatest of these dreaan in a forest-- fro On cautious, nearly floating steps she progressed beneath the trees’ dense canopy, bow at the ready Froaets remained elusive No sooner would she identify the location of a particular sound--a cracking twig, the rustle of dry leaves--than it would swing behind her or shift to the side, as if the woodland’s inhabitants were toying with her

She erassland The sun had set, but darkness was yet to fall As she walked, the grass grew taller It rose to her waist, then to her chest The light--soft, faintly glowing--remained uniform and appeared to have no source Frohter A bright, bubbly, little-girl laughter Rose! she cried, for she knew instinctively that the voice was her daughter’s Rose, where are you! She tore forward The grass whipped her face and eyes Desperation gripped her heart Rose, I can’t see you! Help ht a flicker of ht A flash of red hair

--Over here! the girl teased She was laughing, playing a gaed toward her But like the anihter see fro Try to find rass was gone She found herself standing on a dusty road sloping upward toward the crest of a small hill

--Rose!

No answer

--Rose!

The road beckoned her forward As she walked, she began to have a sense of her environment, or at least the kind of place it was It was beyond the world she knehile also a part of it, a hidden reality that could be glimpsed as if from the corner of the eye but never wholly entered into in this life With each step, her anxiety softened It was as if an invisible power, purely benevolent, was guiding her As she ht, distant hter