53

My pulse quickens and a ball of panic rises in my chest. I am exposed to contamination from the Quarantine Zone. In fact, I've been like this since Donovitch opened the ship's hatch.

It's only a matter of time before I turn into a drooling, stupid beta.

I'm fucked. I'm well and truly fucked.

That eerie sound waxes and wanes like strange music throughout the forest again.

It takes me a moment to realize the source. Insects. Cicadas, I think they're called. It's a strange sound, but a cool one.

Shit, the only bugs we have in town are cockroaches, and those nasty things don't sing.

It doesn't matter, as I'll never see the city again. Not now.

I tip my head back, letting the light breeze flow over my short hair. and I relax in the gently swaying harness as the peaceful music of the night fills my ears.

I want this to be the last thing I remember before losing my mind to the beta mutation.

The mutation, however, does not occur.

With every minute that passes bright and clear, a sense of hop