"Why do you think these people know where your dad is anyway?" Holly asked.

I ignored her question and continued walking onto the beach. The sand sank under my feet with every step, making it hard to get away from my two friends quickly. To make our journey even more complicated, debris came flying across the beach. There were cardboard boxes and plastic bags from a nearby convenience store. Judging by the way the glass display window was smashed, it had been looted earlier that morning.

My stomach growled at the sight of an empty Lay's bag that flew across my path. I saw both Holly and Jack cease their arguing to glance curiously at that direction of the deserted food. In the corner of my eye, I saw about a dozen bags of Oreos cookies scattered across the boardwalk. The seagulls were picking off the crumbs from the ripped packages.

I imagined I could shove an entire stack of Oreos in my mouth right there and then.

No, I had to focus.

"Whooo-ho-ho!" I heard Jack yell from behind me. "What do we have here? How did the looters know that Xplosion Takis were my favorite?"

"Hey, save some for me!" Holly replied.

Thank goodness. While the two of them were distracted by the snacks, I saw my chance. I rushed for the nearest tent and nearly collided with a man in a hazmat suit.

"Watch where you are going!"

On second glance, I saw it wasn't a man. Through the face shield, I saw it was a woman. An old one. She had grayish-brown hair and spectacles. She took off her helmet and glared at me. I noticed she was wet all over from the steam that had been used to decontaminate her.

What in the world were they keeping in those tents?

"I'm s-sorry — so very sorry. I was just wondering if you can help me find my father."

"Get out of here, girl, go back home."

"I-I don't have a home anymore. Please."

"I'm sorry to hear that," the woman said wearily. Her bored facial expression said she was anything but genuinely sorry. I didn't blame her. After everything that had happened in this city, in this country, the past couple of days, who had sympathy to spare? Sympathy was harder to find than the Lumins we were so desperately hungry for. I ran up to her, eager to give her something that would differentiate me from the hordes of unhappy people who had lost someone to the Blight.

"Here, let me show you this."

I rolled up my sleeve to show her the tiny tattoo on my left shoulder. It was so small; most people would mistake it for a mole or a birthmark. On closer inspection, it looked like three triangles linked together. I knew because once I had stolen my dad's magnifying glass from his stamp collection and looked at my arm for hours in the mirror. I was sure it was a witch's mark of some kind.

In middle school, I learned the correct word for that shape was a valknut.

It would have been a cool tattoo to have if my parents didn't tell me it was placed on me after my surgery. It was a label for the Levarsi to track the people who had the KoRi cells implanted in them. From what I read online, the tattoo was also to help doctors identify patients who needed special treatment. KoRi cells were frequently rejected by their recipients, and doctors had to be very careful about what medicine they gave KoRi patients because we took so many immunosuppressants.

I was one of the lucky ones. Ten was the upper limit of how long KoRi cells survived in the recipients before the transplanted cells went nuts and killed their recipients. For some, ten years was enough. With a simple internet search, I found out that I was living on borrowed time.

The old woman took off her big black rubber gloves and caught my arm. She brought my arm within an inch of her nose and frowned. She finally understood that I was one of the "special" ones who were chosen by the Levarsi to live with these cells in their bodies. Or rather, wait for a slow death.

"Who are you looking for?" She asked, this time with much more patience.

"My dad — Wang Xu Ying, he goes by Peter sometimes. I was separated from him back in Windflower Spring. I just want to know if he's alive."

"I'm sorry, can't help you," the old woman snapped and started walking away.

"If you will just — "

Just what? Just give me my family back? I didn't even know what I wanted from this woman. I just knew I ached all over. Standing here, on this godforsaken beach in this dying world — I just wanted her to do the impossible. I wanted time to turn around, to go back to three days ago.

As I stood there panting in anger, on the verge of tears, the scientist turned around and sighed.

"Everyone has lost someone, kid. I'll tell you what, if you want to come with me I can give you a hot meal. We're short of supplies as it is."

"Wait! WAIT!" I screamed. The woman finally stopped in her tracks. I knew I was rude, but I couldn't believe how she could just dismiss my concerns just like that. She had such a kind, motherly look to her at first glance. "I don't want to come with you for a m-meal. I just want to find my family."

She turned around and to my shock, reached for my neck. I didn't even fight back. Her icy fingers reached for my carotid and took my pulse. Then she poked around my face, lifting my eyelids and staring into my pupils.

"Were you caught in the rain?"

"No!"

"Tell me the truth."

"I was . . .for a little while. Why? Am I turning?"

She withdrew her hands and patted my shoulder. I didn't feel comforted. She didn't look impressed by my eyes. If I were turning into a vampire, I would have expected her to go running away from me screaming. Instead, the old woman shook her head.

"No, no, you're fine. What's your name?"

"Ailith. . .Ailith Ying."

"I'm Dr. Lemeris, Lana Lemaris. I'm not a member of the search and rescue team. I'm not even on the quarantine squad. I'm just here to take samples of the waters for our library back in Lykos. I really can't help you, Ailith."

I nodded. "Okay, I don't know why I blew up. I'm emotional. It's a crazy time."

"I know," she said. "Ying, that name sounds familiar." She seemed to narrow her wrinkled eyes for a second to think. Then Dr. Lemeris shook her gray head at me. "Sorry I really can't help you."

With those words, she walked away from me to another nearby tent. After the doctor disappeared, I turned to the tent she had come from. The door was open. I couldn't contain my curiosity. I peeked inside. They were not holding equipment or weapons inside that heavily guarded place.

No, it was nothing like that.

Inside, I saw holding cells of vampires with masks on their faces to keep them from biting each other.

I suddenly understood why my name might have meant something to that doctor.

In the far left holding cell was a small, diminutive vampire.

Even though the vampire's face was covered by the mask they had put on her, her hair was still in a ponytail. She was sitting with her arms around her knees. Her jeans were ripped, and her knees were skinned. She was still wearing the same stained sweatshirt.

It was Grace.