Chapter 10 · Split

The bag's not empty.

I can see it in the dark. Not with my eyes—with whatever's burning under my skin now. The council bodybag on the floor has a shape inside. Human shape.

And it's moving.

"Eli." Flint's voice comes from my left. Calm. Too calm. "Put the gun down."

"You first."

"I don't have it anymore."

She's right. I heard it hit the floor when Maya tackled her. But that doesn't mean she's unarmed. Council agents carry backup everything.

The bag moves again. A low rasping sound comes from inside. Like someone trying to breathe through a collapsed lung.

"What the hell is in there?" I keep the gun up even though I can't see where to point it.

"Me," Flint says.

I wait for the punchline. It doesn't come.

"Three days ago," she continues, "I died in the Northside blackout zone. Respiratory failure. My team tagged and bagged me. Standard protocol."

The rasp gets louder. The bag's seams strain.

"Then what are you?"

"The part that didn't stay dead."

The zipper bursts. I don't think—I just light up. My whole arm this time.