***Trigger Warning in this chapter for panic attacks***

"Hey, Alex," Jake's voice called, and I nearly jumped.

Jake made his way around the front of the bus. He wore a heavy black sweatshirt with the hood down and his beanie pulled over his head.

"Talk to you a minute?" He glanced at me for a second before turning his focus to Alex.

Alex crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow. "Right now?"

"It's fine," I said, picking at my neon pink nail polish and trying to stop my hands from shaking. "I think I'm going to go in and get some snacks anyway." I pointed my thumb back over my shoulder before turning on my heel and jogging off towards the convenience store.

"Allison, wait," Alex called, but I rushed off before he could stop me.

I needed to be alone. I needed to think. It felt like the ground was falling out from under me. My head was spinning. This was all too much.

Finally, I reached the smudged glass door to the gas station convenience store. The bell gave a pained ding as I shoved it open. A blast of hot, dry air plumed over me. It smelled like burning dust. It was only the end of October, but they already had the heat cranking in here like it was winter.

A U2 song played quietly in the background through a crackling radio. I walked down the first aisle to the beat of the music, running my hand along a dusty shelf. A thin layer of grime stuck to my fingertips. I pulled my hand back, rubbing my fingers together until the dust disintegrated in the moisture of my palms.

I hadn't eaten anything since before the show last night, but just looking at the arrays of faded candy wrappers and crushed bags of chips made me nauseous. It looked like they hadn't changed out the stock in here since the nineties.

The words Alex had said to me played on repeat in my head. He never changed back.

Was that going to happen to me, too? Alex said that the shifts had become more frequent for my . . . brother . . . right before he finally lost complete control. The same thing was happening to me now. Was I going to shift one night and never come back?

My legs shook as I continued to walk through the shop, my vision darkening around me like I was going through a tunnel.

Where did I go during the shifts? What happened to me? Why couldn't I remember them?

I paused in front of one of the refrigerators, gripping the handle for support. My reflection stared back at me through the tall, glass door. I'd showered on the tour bus this morning before we left, but my fresh mascara and heavy black eyeliner were already running onto my cheeks. The black lines looked like trails from a dozen spiders scurrying out of my eyes and down my tanned face. Sweat dripped from my forehead and neck as I panted.

The drone of the music distorted as its beat drifted through the shop, slowing like a cassette player running out of batteries. The broken speakers crackled and moaned, whining like they were in pain.

Why is it so fucking hot in here?

I leaned against the cool refrigerator for a second, my grip on the icy handle tightening as I caught my breath. My skin crawled beneath my clothes like insects were writhing in my veins. They carved out thousands of tiny tunnels and crevices within my bones. I pulled the V-neck collar of my shirt back from my chest. I was suffocating.

I need air.

A rush of cold washed over me as I swung the door to the refrigerator open. My gaze wandered over the selection of alcohol, and my skin prickled from the cold and anticipation. My mouth felt dry.

Drinking will help me. Drinking will make me numb.

My hand shook as I grabbed a tallboy of Corona. I needed to release this control somehow—free the stress and tension swelling in me.

"Isn't it a bit early for that?"

I swung my head around to meet the gaze of the convenience store clerk. The old woman's grey, wispy hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, stretching the dry skin at her temples to a point that looked painful.

She thinks I'm worthless. She thinks she's better than me.

"Shut up," I growled at her. My vision tunneled as I focused in on her face. My legs felt light, like I was submerged in water.

"There's something evil in you, child," she said. "I can feel it." She took a step towards me. Her breath smelled rancid, like the breath of a dog that's eaten something foul.

My grip on the beer can tightened like claws as I resisted the urge to throw it at her. My other hand clenched into a fist. "Back off."

"Are you sure you can trust them?" In the harsh florescent lighting, her hazel eyes glowed orange like fire.

"What?" My voice came out as a whisper.

Sweat dripped from the deep wrinkles around her eyes as the red rims surrounding the irises swelled. She grinned, revealing a crooked smile of tiny, pointed teeth protruding from red, inflamed gums. She reached out and touched my hand, sending a shock of biting cold tingling up my arm.

"Are they really who you think they are?" Her frozen breath slithered across my skin as she whispered in my ear. "Can you trust them?"

A knobby hand with nails as sharp as claws gripped my chin and twisted it so I was facing the window. Make Them Scream's purple and silver tour bus was the only vehicle in the parking lot. Jake and Alex stood outside it by the pump. Alex had his arms crossed over his chest, and Jake's hands were in fists at his sides.

"What do you think they are saying?" The voice whispered in my ear, but it transformed from the soft, cracking tone of the old woman to something distant and airy, like it was coming from everywhere and nowhere all at the same time.

Listen.

She's dangerous, and you know it.

My eyes focused in on Jake. Even though he was beyond the glass and there was no way I should have heard him, his voice echoed through my head like he was whispering in my ear.

You should have done it the day she was born, but you were too weak. How many more people will have to die?

The sound of his voice bounced around the space, pulsing in unison with the chilling drone of the music.

She's not like James. Alex's voice seared through my mind. I narrowed my eyes in on him. I was too far to tell for sure, but his mouth didn't even look like it was moving. What happened to my son won't happen to her.

It won't, because if it does, when you're too much of a coward to do something about it, this time, I won't take the backseat and watch you fuck up. I'll do what needs to be done.

It's not going to come to that.

A searing jolt of pain shot from the base of my spine, swelling out to my temples. The lights in the convenience store flared like a starburst, and with a pop, everything went black.

My body was on fire. Pain raged through the bones in my arms and legs like they were contorting and breaking.

"Miss, are you all right?" A distant voice called to me.

I felt the hard, dusty floor against the bare skin of my shoulder. A cold hand gripped me by the upper arm.

"Miss!"

I blinked. My eyes refused to work. The blurred image of the convenience store clerk waved into view for a second before disappearing again.

"Get away from me," I growled, clenching my hands into fists as my entire body shuddered and convulsed. "Don't fucking touch me!"

"Allison!"

Suddenly, another hand grabbed me by the elbow. I yanked back, but the grip was too firm. An arm slinked around my shoulder, pulling me up by the armpit.

"Let's get you outside." I recognized the voice as Liz's, but everything was still dark. She continued talking, but it sounded like I was in the bottom of a well. I was trapped, and she was calling down. I was falling.

Help me. Help me!

My entire body was on fire—my skin burning and peeling back—bare flesh exposed to toxic air.

"Breathe, breathe," Liz's voice called to me. "Allison, breathe."

A rush of cold air hit my skin. I gasped, sucking it into my lungs. Something tugged my arm, and my feet gave out beneath me as I collapsed to the ground.

My vision faded in and out as I fought to pull more cold air into my lungs. I clawed at the rough concrete beneath me, grinding my fingernails against it.

Please, make this stop. Please!

"Here."

My vision cleared long enough for Liz's face to come into focus. She held out a water bottle. I snatched it from her and chugged half of it in one gulp. The ice-cold liquid rushed down my throat, cooling the fire raging in my core.

"You can't do this right now, Allison. You have to take control of this. Fight it off."

The sun blared above me, and I stared into it until the brightness burned out everything else in my vision. I snapped my eyes closed, and when I opened them, the tunnel retreated around me. I took another sip of water, my sight finally focusing enough to see Liz clearly.

I was sitting on the sidewalk with my back against the side of the convenience store. Liz squatted in front of me with one hand on my shoulder.

"Oh my God," I moaned. "Fuck. Fuck."

"It's okay. I've got you. You're okay."

The skin on my left arm itched like fire ants were swarming over it.

I took another quick drink before setting the water bottle down to scratch my arm. I choked when I saw it, the mouthful of water pouring out over my chin. "Fuck!"

My fingers had become claws, and a thick layer of fur covered my arm from my shoulder to my hand.

"Breathe, Allison. Breathe."

"Is everything okay?" a voice suddenly called.

My eyes shot over to where the old woman now stood in the doorway to the shop. I grasped my clawed arm in my other hand, trying to hide it. A blinding wave of pain shot through my head.

"She's fine," Liz responded when I didn't. "Just having a panic attack."

The woman leaned out further from the doorway. "Are you sure?" She furrowed her brow when her gaze landed on my arm. "Do you need me to call someone?"

"I'm fine!" I growled back, turning myself and shifting my hand out of her line of sight.

Liz squeezed my shoulder firmly, signaling for me to shut the hell up.

"She just needs air," Liz said. "Can you give us some space?"

The old woman made one last attempt to get  a look at my arm, but finally she nodded and went back into the shop, swinging the door shut behind her.

I pinched my eyes shut as tears and sweat ran down my face. My hand tingled like I'd been sleeping on it all night and put it to sleep. Finally, I dared to look at it again. My joints tensed as the set of claws retreated, and then my fingers uncurled. The fur receded so only tiny, fine blonde hair remained.

"Oh my God." I clutched my aching head. "Why the fuck is this happening to me?"

"It's going to be okay. We're going to help you."

I took another sip of water, my hands shaking so much I almost missed my mouth.

Liz was still crouching in front of me. She bit her lower lip, and then she reached out and pushed a strand of my hair out of my eyes, tucking it softly behind my ear. Her touch lingered on the side of my face for a second, and her eyes met mine.

"It's going to be okay," she whispered. Then she snapped her hand away, spinning her head around to where Jake and Alex were climbing back onto the bus.

My eyes darted over to them, the conversation I'd overheard replaying itself in my mind.

I'll do what needs to be done.

A chill rushed through me. Had that been real, or had that all just been in my mind?

"Ready to go?" Liz stood over me, holding out her hand.

Hesitantly, I took it, and she pulled me to my feet.

"That woman . . . what if she saw me?" I asked. "What if she calls someone?"

"And tells them what?" Liz lead the way back towards the bus. "I don't think she saw anything, and even if she did, who would she tell? No one would believe her."

"I guess so." I bit my lower lip, giving one last look over my shoulder to the old, crumbling gas station. Inside, the wrinkled woman stood at the register again. When my gaze landed on her, she suddenly turned, staring out the window like she knew I was looking at her. My heart skipped a beat as my breath caught in my throat.

Even from the distance, her eyes glowed orange like rings of fire, burning into my mind along with the stench of her rotten breath and the image of her infected gums. Tiny, pointy teeth.

A shudder rushed through me, and I blinked. The woman's eyes went back to normal, and her attention wasn't even on me anymore. Instead, she stared out the glass dispassionately, like she was trying to see something on the distant horizon.

Surely I'd been imagining what I'd seen, right? She was just an old woman. It was all in my head. A hallucination. An extrapolation of reality.

It isn't real.

But still, her words echoed through my mind like a terrible song stuck on repeat.

Can you trust them?