Gabriel nodded. “Yes.”

“And that is because, from the beginning, you never dreaded my arrival. On some level, haven’t you been waiting for me—dare I say it?—with open arms?” Calaca shrugged, a casual gesture that looked bizarre on a figure so otherworldly.

Gabriel clutched his walker with a white-knuckled grip. “Get out of here. You’re not real.”

“I am.”

“You’re in my head. You’re a hallucination. A disturbing product of my demented subconscious. That’s what they told me.”

“Oh? And since when has Gabriel Schist been a man who believed anything that others told him?”

“Since now.”

Gabriel walked over to the doorway and peered out. Level Five had at least double the number of LNAs. Some of the residents were shuffling up and down the hall or standing around muttering and laughing for no apparent reason. He ducked back into his room before a nurse could see him and sat on the bed.

Victor moved closer. “I have come to give you a choice.”

“I don’t want anything from you.”

Calaca laid an icy hand on Gabriel’s shoulder. “You have nothing to fear from me.”

“No? I have everything to fear from you.”

“I am about to give you the most important choice that you shall ever make. I am here to give you the option of death.”

Gabriel shuddered. Yes, he still wanted death. He craved death. But looking into the gaping mouth of oblivion itself, he felt the finality of it all become more clear. Please, Victor. Just let me die. Let me die easily.

“Death,” Calaca repeated. “Right here, at this moment. It shall be painless. Instantaneous. You can give up, escape the pain in your future, escape from everything, and I shall lead you there by the hand. But there is another option.” The hooded man’s eyes were moist.

“And what’s that?” Gabriel asked.

“You can fight. You can be brave. With my help, you can escape this place.”

“Please,” Gabriel said, holding back tears, “don’t torture me with fantasies. Please, I’ve been hurt enough.”

“This is not a fantasy. With my help, you can escape. You may finally follow the path to the Sky Amoeba. And then, perhaps, you shall have a chance to save humanity from the Black Virus. You may follow me to your destiny, Gabriel. I’m still giving you that option.”

“What’s the catch?”

“No catch, no trick. However, you shall be forced to look into the eyes of your greatest fear.”

Gabriel stared at his reflection in the obsidian scythe. The image was of his younger self, red hair and unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt. “What happens if I choose death? What will the Schistlings do?”

“If you don’t act now—tonight, in fact—then after you die, it shall be too late to stop them. The Schistlings will massacre the entire human race.”

When it was put that way, the notion of a “human race” sounded surreal. And Melanie was just one small part of that conglomeration of individuals that Calaca had called the human race. Had she ever taken the Schist vaccine? Horror encroached on his mind. Yes, she must have taken it. He didn’t remember her taking it, but almost everyone had, and her father was the inventor. That meant that a Schistling was crawling around inside his daughter.

“I don’t know what to do,” Gabriel said. “Stop making me feel so helpless! I already know that escape from here is impossible. I found that out the hard way, and that was back when my window didn’t have bars. I can’t do it.”

“Oh yes, you can.” A quiet laugh escaped from Calaca’s scythe. “But first, you must abandon everything you know as real. You don’t exist in the normal, solid world anymore. You haven’t since the first day your mind began to fail you. There’s a way out of this prison, but you will only find it if you allow yourself to believe in me, to trust me. Belief is a powerful thing, Gabriel. Belief can change everything. Remember your mentor, Father Gareth? Remember how, from the very first time he saw you drawing on that blackboard, he believed in you? Remember how, even on his deathbed, he never lost the ability to smile?”

Gabriel shook his head. “You’re a fictitious construct of my mind. How can I believe in your existence? How can I possibly save the world if I don’t even know what’s real anymore? I’m not Gareth. I’m not half the man he was. I’ve never believed in anything, not even myself.”

“Because, Gabriel, when you reach a certain point in life, knowing what’s real or not simply doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Why not?”

“Because you have Alzheimer’s. Life as you know it, it’s simply a cognitive experience, correct? The life a man experiences through his eyes, ears, and nose is only an interpretation of reality, something beyond his full understanding. Let’s call it truth. But as much as one may try, a man’s perception of reality is forever limited to whatever realizations your five senses may offer.”

“Victor, I can’t—”

“So what gives anyone the right to condemn your perception of existence and deny you freedom of will just because that perception is different from theirs? Instead of giving up, why don’t you learn to trust your perception of the world, strange as it may be? Trust your perception, stop clinging to the world you once knew, and live freely in the world you now know.”

Gabriel studied Victor Calaca, a man who so clearly couldn’t exist, and yet he did. Yes, on some level, Victor did exist. Death was closer than ever before. Gabriel could end it all now. No more pain. No more humiliation. His mind still somewhat intact. All he had to do was embrace the blackness within Victor’s ethereal scythe. It was his last chance at the easy finale he’d desired so desperately for so many years.

“I guess I’m not ready to die then,” Gabriel whispered.

Calaca smiled. “Good.” He helped Gabriel back onto his feet then pointed his scythe toward the hall. “Close the door.”

“But they’ll just come here and open it again.”

“If you believe in me, I shall hold it for you. It won’t open. They won’t interrupt us. You must trust me on this.”

Gabriel walked over and closed the door. “What now?”

“Now that we’re isolated, I want you to forget the world outside of that door, the world that others are trying to force you to abide by. It doesn’t exist for you. Not anymore.”

Great, one step closer to insanity. “Okay.”

“Close your eyes, Gabriel.”

Heart racing, Gabriel shut his eyes. Letting go of reality might reduce him to a breathing vegetable, forever unable to interact with others. But if he didn’t do it, Melanie would become another victim of the Schistlings. It was the only way he could stop them from killing her and the rest of humanity. He had to take a chance. He had to trust Victor’s philosophy, even if it boggled his mind.

“Excellent,” Calaca said. “Now, forget about your Alzheimer’s. Forget it entirely. Forget everything that you’ve been holding onto so desperately. Let go, and embrace your inner self.”

Gabriel didn’t understand what to do. All of the background noises had disappeared, and the only thing he saw was total blackness. Then, he visualized his mind as a shelf full of torn, ratty old books. He knocked the shelf over.

Suddenly, Gabriel felt everything around him start to shake. The walls were breathing down his neck with hot, sweltering steam. The floor beneath him was vibrating, as if from an earthquake. “Victor?”

“Let go! Let go of everything, Schist. Stop trying to hold the walls up. Allow them to shake. Let it all come down!”

“I can’t— ”

“Let go!”

The world rumbled. It took everything he had to stay on his feet and keep his eyes closed, when it felt as though the ceiling was about to collapse on his head. A volcanic eruption of panicked, terrified thoughts exploded in his mind. Pain blasted through his body.

A moment later, calm returned. Everything felt warm.