“I am.”
She studies me.
Then another scream comes from outside.
This one is close enough to shake the side window.
Lark jumps.
A man falls against the glass from outside, blood running from his forehead into his eyebrow.
Mercy moves automatically.
So does Junie.
“Don't open it,” I say.
The man slides down the wall. He is wearing a vendor apron, not a cut or one of the fake volunteer shirts.
“Oh, shit,” Petal whispers.
Mercy looks toward the front.
Crypt is nowhere in sight.
She looks at me.
I already know what she is thinking.
“Go.”
“No.”
“Mercy.”
“No.”
“He might actually be hurt.”
“So might you if I leave.”
“You're not leaving me. The door is locked.”
“That has not exactly inspired confidence today.”
Fair.
The man pounds weakly against the window. “Please.”
Mercy curses.
Junie grabs the first-aid kit. “I'll go.”
Mercy turns on her. “No.”
“Then somebody has to.”
Everything is chaos.