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“Yeah, and we can totally trust you, right?”

“Yes,” Astrid said without conviction. “You can trust me.”

That drew laughter and more insults.

Someone yelled, “Let her talk, she’s the only one even trying.”

“All Astrid does is lie and do nothing,” a voice shot back.

Astrid knew the voice. Howard.

“All Astrid can do is talk,” Howard said. “Blah blah blah. And most of it lies.”

The mob of kids was silent now, watching as Howard stood up slowly, stiffly, and turned to face the kids.

“Sit down, Howard,” Astrid said. Even she could hear the defeat in her tone.

“Did you write some kind of law that made you boss of everyone? Because I thought you were all about laws.”

Astrid fought the urge to walk out. Like Sam had apparently done, just leave town. No loss to anyone.

“We need to figure out how we’re going to organize and deal, Howard,” Astrid said. “People need food.”

“Got that right,” a voice said.

“How are you going to make that happen?” Howard demanded.

“Okay, well, tomorrow everyone will work their regular job,” Astrid said. “It will be bad for a couple of days, but we’ll get food and water going again. The crops are still in the fields. The fish are still in the ocean.”

That had a calming effect. Astrid could feel it. It helped to remind the kids that not everything had been lost in the fire. Yes, maybe she could reach them after all.

“Tell us about the zombie,” Howard said.

Astrid’s face and neck flushed red, betraying her guilt.

“And then maybe you can explain why you stopped Sam from taking Zil out before Zil burned down the town.”

Astrid managed a wry smile. “Don’t you lecture me, Howard. You’re a lowlife drug dealer.”

She could see that the insult hit home.

“If people want to buy things, I make sure they can,” Howard said. “Just like Albert. Anyway, I never put myself up on a pedestal and said I was some big deal. Me and Orc, we do what we do to get by. We’re not the ones being so perfect and mighty and above it all.”

“No, you’re beneath it all,” Astrid said.

Part of her knew that as long as she kept this personal between her and Howard, the others wouldn’t jump in. But that would get them nowhere. Accomplish nothing.

“You still haven’t explained anything, Astrid,” Howard said, as though reading her mind. “Forget me. I’m just me. What about a girl who was dead and isn’t dead anymore? And what about kids saying they’ve seen Drake walking the streets? You got any answers, Astrid?”

She considered bluffing. Another time, another day, she would have found a way to heap frosty scorn on Howard and shut him down. But she couldn’t seem to find that inside herself. Not now.

“You know, Howard,” Astrid began in a wry voice, “I’ve made a lot of mistakes lately and-”

“And what about the Prophetess?” a different voice broke in. “What about Orsay?”

“Mary?” Astrid couldn’t believe it. Mary Terrafino, her face red with anger, her voice crackling.

“I just talked to my brother. My brother, who never in his whole life ever lied to me,” Mary said.

She walked down the aisle of the church. The crowd parted for her. Mother Mary.

“He admitted it to me, Astrid,” Mary said. “He lied. He lied because you told him to.”

Astrid wanted to deny it. The words of denial were on the tip of her tongue. But she couldn’t make them come out.

“Mary’s right, everyone,” Howard said. “Astrid told us all to lie. About Brittney and about Orsay.”

“Orsay is a fake,” Astrid said weakly.

“Maybe,” Howard said. “But you don’t know that. None of us know that.”

“Orsay’s no fake. She told me something only I knew,” Mary said. “And she prophesied that a tribulation was coming soon.”

“Mary, that’s an old trick,” Astrid said. “This is the FAYZ: a tribulation is always coming, in case you haven’t noticed. We’re up to our necks in tribulation. She’s manipulating you.”

“Yeah, unlike you,” Howard said, his voice dripping sarcasm.

Every eye was on her. Disbelieving. Angry. Accusing. Scared.

“Orsay says we can step out on our fifteenth,” Mary said. “She told me to lay down my burden. That was what my mom said in her dream. Put down my burden.”

“Mary, you must know better than that,” Astrid said.

“No. I don’t know better,” Mary said so quietly, Astrid almost didn’t hear her. “And neither do you.”

“Mary, those kids need you,” Astrid pleaded.

Suddenly, unexpectedly, this had become life and death. What Mary was talking about was suicide. Astrid was sure of that much. Logic told her this was probably true. But her faith told her even more certainly: giving up, surrendering, accepting something that at the very least looked and felt like suicide could never be good. That was a joke that God would not play.

“Maybe not,” Mary said softly. “Maybe what they need is a way out of here, those kids. Maybe their moms and dads are waiting for them and we’re the ones keeping them apart.”

And there it was: the thing Astrid had feared from the first time she heard of Orsay’s so-called prophecies.

The silence in the church was nearly absolute.

“None of the littles are anywhere near their fifteenth,” Astrid said.

“And they won’t make it to their fifteenth in this horrible place,” Mary said. Her voice broke. Astrid recognized the desperation: she’d felt it herself as she endured Little Pete’s meltdown. She’d felt it so many times since the coming of the FAYZ.

“We’re in hell, Astrid,” Mary said, almost pleading with her to understand. “This. This is hell.”

Astrid could imagine what Mary’s life was like. The constant work. The constant responsibility. The unbelievable stress. The depression. The fear. All of it so much worse for Mary than for just about anyone else.

But this couldn’t go on. This had to be stopped. Even if it meant hurting Mary.

“Mary, you’ve been one of the most important, necessary people in the FAYZ,” Astrid said carefully. “But I know it’s been hard on you.”

Astrid had a sick feeling inside, knowing what she was going to say, what she had to say. Knowing that it was a betrayal.

“Mary, look, I know you’re not able to find the meds you need to take. I know you’ve been taking a lot of drugs, trying to control the things in your head.”

The silence was total in the church. Kids stared at Mary, then at Astrid. It had turned into a test of who they would believe. Astrid knew the answer to that.

“Mary, I know you’re dealing with depression and anorexia. Anyone looking at you knows that.”

The crowd hung on each word.

“I know that you’ve been battling some demons, Mary.”

Mary barked a disbelieving laugh. “Are you calling me crazy?”

“Of course not,” Astrid said, but in such a way that it was clear even to the youngest or dumbest in the room that she was alleging exactly that. “But you do have a couple of mental…issues…that are possibly distorting your thinking.”

Mary flinched as if someone had hit her. She looked around the room, looking for a friendly face, looking for signs that not everyone was agreeing with Astrid.

Astrid saw those same faces. They had turned stony and suspicious. But all of that suspicion was aimed at Astrid, not at Mary.

“I think you need to stay home for a while,” Astrid said. “We’ll get someone else to run the day care, while you pull yourself together.”

Howard’s jaw was hanging open. “You’re firing Mary? And she’s the one who’s nuts?”

Even Edilio seemed amazed. “I don’t think Astrid’s talking about Mary not running the day care,” he said quickly, with a warning look at Astrid.

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about, Edilio. Mary has fallen for Orsay’s lies. It’s dangerous. Dangerous to Mary if she decides to step out. And dangerous to the kids if Mary keeps listening to Orsay.”