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but
it's too difficult. I hate that he thinks of me as a
coward.
    “ Your mother would want you
to stay safe inside, Finn.”
    “ She's dead. She and Harper
and Leah.”
    “ No, Finn. You can't
believe that.”
    Now he's the one in denial. “You know
they're Wraiths.”
    He strikes me across the face,
surprising me. It's not quite a slap, but not a real punch, either.
It's enough to get my attention, which it certainly does. He's
never hit me before.
    I hold a hand up to my jaw and glare
at him.
    “ I'm sorry. I shouldn't
have done that.”
    I push the blanket off of me and stand
up. The hit doesn't even hurt, but even if it did, I wouldn't want
him to know it. Maybe at fifteen I didn't care enough that he
thought of me as weak, but now that I'm eighteen, I'd rather
die.
    He gets up with me and crosses the
room, placing himself between me and the doorway. “Listen to me,
Finn. Just give me a few minutes. Things are going to change. Some
for the good, some . . . .” He
shrugs.
    I study his face. What is he
saying?
    “ Jack Resnick,” he says.
“He and a few others want me to step down. They want to replace me
with someone else.”
    I roll my eyes. “You can't really be
considering doing it.”
    “ I'm not.”
    “ Because Jack would be
worse.”
    “ I know. And nothing is
going to happen for the time being, not as long as Eddie is
fighting for his life. We've all decided to wait at least that
long. But, Finn, when it happens — not if, but when —
we'll need someone with some sense in his head.”
    “ Such as?”
    “ I want you to consider
taking my place.”
     

Tensions mount over the next three days as Eddie somehow manages to
cling to life.
    Doctor Cavanaugh is worried at how
quickly our precious supply of bandages is dwindling. She's wrapped
him up like a mummy and is pumping intravenous antibiotics more
than a year expired into his veins. But even more than that, she's
beside herself with disbelief. How could anyone survive what he
went through? She tells my dad that if he doesn't pass on soon,
it'll just be harder for him afterward, when the inevitable
infections set in.
    But nobody wants to be the one to make
the call to stop treating him.
    Bren and Bix and I stop down there
daily, but we're not allowed to go inside the room, and we can't
see anything through the window from the hallway because of the
plastic curtain over the bed. Doc Cavanaugh tells us it's for his
own protection. I overheard her tell Bren's mom that his destroyed
skin is starting to turn white and slough off. She made it sound
like it wasn't expected. But then again, she admits she's never
treated anything like this before.
    She was a pathologist and used to
studying her patients through the lens of a microscope, an
instrument she's been trying to build with Kari Mueller's and
Eddie's help. They’ve been cannibalizing parts from digital cameras
and screens. With Eddie injured now, I’m not sure if project will
ever get finished.
    Dad has stopped doing his daily
walkabouts. He's stopped checking up on everyone to make sure the
chores get done. He spends many of his waking hours assisting the
doctor, as if he feels personally responsible for the accident. I
see him comforting Hannah and I can't help but feel a little
jealous of the attention he gives her, even though I know how
incredibly selfish that is.
    What he does with the rest of his time
is a mystery. He doesn't spend it in our quarters, which is fine by
me. I take advantage of the solitude.
    And yet the chores still get done. I
guess people need that routine, especially during stressful times
such as this. Nobody wants to see our little society break down, no
matter how unhappy we may be.
    Bren, Bix, and I spend more time in
the bunker's common room on the top level than we usually do. With
decorated walls, hand-built couches, a small stack of books, and a
few homemade board games, it's the closest thing we have to
anything resembling the luxuries of the old world. It's