A single set of doors was all that remained between them and escape. As they approached, a large, bright orange blob became vaguely visible though the frosted glass.

“That’s my dad’s car,” Noah said. “Let’s go.”

Leah grabbed the collar of his shirt and yanked him back. “Forgetting something, are we?”

Noah gazed at her blankly.

She narrowed her eyes. “It’s time to be cured. No more delays.”

Noah smiled hesitantly. “Ah, right. Of course.”

“Brian should get the treatment first,” May said.

Nobody had any quarrel with that suggestion, so in short order Brian was laid across the ground and cured. They were quite well-practiced with the process by this point.

“It doesn’t feel particularly pleasant,” Brian commented after the vacuum had turned off. “On a metaphysical level, I mean. I still can’t feel anything.”

“Unless the blindness wears out anytime soon, you’ll probably be immobile for another few hours at the very least,” Elias said. “It depends how soon you regain feeling in your limbs.”

Brian didn’t seem very pleased about that estimate, but there was nothing any of them could do.

“I can go next,” May volunteered. Her eyes tracked the vacuum as Clarissa brought it to her mouth, and she sat perfectly still until it was over.

“It wasn’t that bad,” she declared without elaborating.

Elias went after her, and then it was Noah’s turn.

A nervous energy gathered in the pit of his stomach as he watched Clarissa empty the vacuum in preparation. “What did you think, Elias? How bad is it?”

“It’s kind of like you’re dying,” he said after a moment of thought. “Like you’re having all of your vital organs sucked out.”

Noah blinked. “May, you said it wasn’t that bad, right? Right?”

Clarissa approached him with the vacuum. Her expression was neutral, but somehow the way she held the device seemed very threatening.

“Are you wiping the nozzle off between each person?” Noah asked before she could turn the vacuum on. “Because if not, that’s just gross.”

Clarissa raised an eyebrow and wiped it quickly on her shirt. “Yeah,” she said unconvincingly.

“You can do a better job than that.”

“Noah! Just let her cure you,” Leah said, exasperated. “You’ll be fine.”

He gave a short, somewhat unwilling nod and tried his best to convince himself there was nothing to be nervous about. Clarissa pressed the vacuum against his lips and turned it on.

The motor whined, held a pitch for about two seconds… and died.

Noah gazed at it in surprise, hardly believing his luck. He knew he shouldn’t feel relieved, but he couldn’t stop the emotion from rolling through him.

Clarissa brought the nozzle away from his mouth and gave it an irritated shake, then jammed her thumb repeatedly into the power button, but it was well and truly dead. “I do believe our vacuum just ran out of battery.”

“Didn’t you say your dad was bringing one?” Elias asked Noah. “I can step out and grab it.”

He shook his head. “My dad doesn’t know you; why would he hand it over? I should be the one to get it.”

Leah peered at him wearily. “You’re not going outside until you’re cured.”

He threw her a hurt look. “I wouldn’t eat him. He’s my dad.”

“Maybe so, but there’s also a fair chance he won’t recognize you. It’s better if I’m the one to talk to him. Or Clarissa, I suppose. The rest of you are covered in blood and gaunt like death itself.”

Noah paused. The dust tried to make him uncaring of the people around him, either to push its own objectives or to protect his sanity. Despite its best efforts, however, he still cared for his dad. Maybe that would change with enough time, but he had no intention of letting himself get to that point. He handed her the keycard.

She smiled. “Thank you. Now back up. I’m not opening the door until you’re at the other end of the hall.”

“Oh, come on. Have some faith.” Despite his complaints, he smiled good-naturedly and retreated down the corridor. When she deemed him a safe distance away Leah slipped through the door and out of sight.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

A minute later she reappeared with a handheld vacuum very similar to the device they already possessed, although this one was slightly smaller, and painted red rather than blue.

Noah returned to his companions. Leah turned the vacuum off and on, testing the battery as he approached. “Your dad seems nice,” she said. “He’s excited to see you.”

Noah came to a stop directly in front of her and smiled. “It’ll be good to see him.”

Leah held the nozzle of the vacuum to his mouth and turned it on.

Noah closed his eyes as he waited to feel the treatment taking effect. There was no tactile feedback at its touch, though as the seconds passed, he felt an almost imperceptible, intangible tug, as if it were pulling at his very soul. The sensation was accompanied by a pang of deep loss. If he didn’t do anything, he would lose something of vital importance, never to see it again. He pushed down the sentiment, knowing it was artificial, but the sense of desperation suddenly strengthened, and it smothered him in an instant.

He suddenly realized he was making an awful mistake. The dust had been nothing but beneficial. It granted him capabilities straight out of a comic book; who in their right mind would turn down such incredible boons? He failed to think of a reason he shouldn’t remain infected. Remain infected forever.

He tried to tell Leah to stop, but the vacuum over his mouth whisked the words away before he could get them out.

Panic seared through him, but the emotion suddenly turned to anger as he realized what Leah was doing. She was stealing his dust for herself.

He wound his fist back and punched her in the face.

His body was a feeble, weakened wreck, but the blow took her by complete surprise, and she stumbled back. The vacuum fell to the floor

“What the hell, Noah?” Clarissa shouted.

Noah ignored her. His attention was on the vacuum on the floor, on its darkened dustbin. He needed to reclaim its contents.

He reached for it, but Clarissa tackled him from the side and he tumbled to the ground several feet away.

“What is wrong with you?” Leah demanded.

“We should have blinded him before treating him,” Clarissa muttered. “Do any of you have a syringe gun?”

“Noah has the only one,” Elias said.

“Of course he does,” Clarissa sighed, though she was already pulling a blindfold out of her pocket. She picked the vacuum up from the floor. “C’mere, Noah. Let me put this on you and then we can finish up the treatment.”

“Give that to me,” he said, looking at the vacuum.

She gave him a flat look. “Come and take it.”

He stepped towards her cautiously before suddenly darting forward to grasp the device. He tried to yank it out of her grip, but she was as immovable as a marble statue.

She let him tug ineffectually on the vacuum for another moment before slowly shaking her head. “You’re so weak. I’m barely holding onto it.” The last thing he saw before she pulled her blindfold over his head was the pitying look in her eyes.

Noah heard the vacuum turn on. The sound filled him with such dread that he nearly passed out.

The vacuum droned on, unheeding, and the awful feeling gradually lessened until he felt almost normal again. Unconsciousness beckoned, though now it was due to simple, overwhelming fatigue.

The vacuum wound down into silence. The blindfold was pulled off his head and Clarissa’s hopeful face filled his vision.

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

A combination of exhaustion and shame made Noah reluctant to meet her gaze, but it was awfully difficult not to with her eyes hovering several inches from his own. “Like I could sleep through to next year. But better. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” She maintained his gaze for another moment, nodded to herself, then turned away to cure Leah.

Noah slumped down against the mirrored wall and closed his eyes. He heard the sound of a match catching fire and the sharp crack of dust as it combusted, but he didn’t care enough to look. Never in his life had he ever felt so completely drained.

I’m cured. It was a strange thought. He cracked his eyes open to peer down at his hands, but they remained as skeletal as he had grown accustomed to over the past few days. It would take time for him to recover to his pre-infected state. The dust had used him up and spat him out.

The treatment may not have remedied his outward physical state, but it had certainly done something for his psyche. For the past two days hunger had sat in his mind like a heavy stone at the center of a trampoline, sending all of his other thoughts rolling inevitably towards it.

Now that stone had been lifted away. He felt like he could finally think in his own head again.

He dipped in and out of consciousness as Clarissa and Leah quietly cured each other. He was pretty sure his brain had already shut down and gone to sleep despite the fact that his eyes were still open. May and Elias seemed to be in a similar state, and Brian… Well, he was probably already dreaming.

Several peaceful minutes passed before Clarissa slammed the doors open, startling everyone from their stupor. “We did it! We’re cured! Let’s go!”

“Shh,” Brian groaned. “Some of us are sleeping.”

She ducked down to scoop him back over her shoulder. “I’ll be as loud as I want to be, thank you very much.”

Noah pulled himself to his feet and gazed out the open door. His dad’s car was parked exactly where the bus had stopped yesterday to let the students off. The window was rolled down.

Noah stepped out of the building and slowly brought his eyes up, almost afraid of what he would see. He was suddenly horribly aware of his appearance, and shame made him duck his head as if he could hide what had become of him.

“You made it,” a familiar voice said, cracking in raw relief. “Took you long enough, eh?”

Noah’s heart jumped. He stumbled forward and leaned against the side of the orange car to see his dad sitting inside, hands on the wheel, looking at him with poorly concealed worry.

Noah smiled weakly at him. “Thanks for picking us up.”

“Of course. You- you're not hurt, are you?” he asked hesitantly.

“No. I’m okay.” Noah winced and looked down at his hands again before he could stop himself. Feeling suddenly uncomfortable, he leaned away from the car and turned back toward his friends.

“What are you waiting for? Get in,” he prompted.

They stepped out from under the doorway.

Clarissa gave the car an appraising look. “Nice whip.”

“Is it?” Brian asked. “I want shotgun.”