The hallway stretched on like a fever dream. Ashley did her best to hold up Sawyer, grunting and cursing under her breath. Harland was gone. Sawyer only briefly heard the sound of his helicopter wash before it faded completely. “That him?” Sawyer said. “Yep. He’s gone,” Ashley said. “Now shut up and stay calm.”

  Whatever was happening to him, he wasn’t just dying. It clung to his skin like oil and the pressure intensified on his temples and thumbs. He couldn’t tell if the walls were moving or if the ceiling was actually dripping blood. At first, it fascinated him. But then, it made him belch and dry heave.

  “We’re almost there, Sawyer,” Ashley said. “The room is this way.”

  Ashley’s grip on his belt was the only thing anchoring him.

  She opened the door to the suite with a key that glinted gold.

  The suite smelled like orchids, but the plants in the corners were dried and brown. Ashley swung her arm and tore away the cobwebs.

  Sawyer tumbled inside, one hand braced against the wall to keep him from falling. His other hand clutched his neck. Blood pulsed from his wound with every heartbeat, thick and hot, and soaked his collar. It painted his wrist in red-black in the low light.

  “I need a medic—Ashley—I’m dying—”

  She locked the door behind them. Then bolted it.

  “You’re not going to die.”

  A howler monkey screamed outside the window.

  Sawyer jerked his head, looking for it. At the time, it sounded like another monster who might jump through the glass and start clawing at his face.

  “What was that?”

  Ashley ignored him. She crossed the suite and yanked the blackout curtains closed. The light vanished like a snuffed candle. Shadows wrapped the room. Only thin slices of light leaked through the edges of the seams and illuminated a porcelain bust.

  “I—I can’t focus,” Sawyer stammered. “My ears are ringing. My teeth—my teeth hurt—”

  There was another scream outside the window. It wasn’t human.

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  Sawyer staggered to the window and pried open a curtain just enough to peek out. The birds outside, they weren’t chirping. They were screeching. A pack of coati tore through the underbrush like they were fleering a fire. A python flung itself from the canopy and onto someone’s Escalade. He heard the thud. The canopy shook with the weight of something heavy which was just out of sight.

  “Is it always this loud?” he whispered, trembling. “I don’t like it, Ash.”

  “No,” Ashley said. “They feel what’s happening to you.”

  He stepped away from the glass. His hand came up again to his neck. The blood still ran, but it wasn’t pumping anymore. His lips felt cold and his fingers tingled. His stomach rolled.

  “I think I’m going into shock.”

  “You’re going through a transition.”

  He blinked at her.

  “What does that mean?”

  A jolt hit him like an epiphany. It shocked him, like jabbing a fork in an electrical socket. He screamed out in agony and dropped to one knee. His vision tunneled.

  Every sound magnified. He heard lizards crawling along the balcony railing. He heard the ragged breath of a jaguar. He smelled blood under the floorboards.

  “Make it stop,” he begged. “Please make it stop, Ash.”

  She grabbed his face and forced him to look at her. “You can’t stop it. You’re changing.”

  “Into what?”

  A chorus of screams rang out, too many animals at once. Was the entire jungle about to jump out and attack them? What was happening?

  “I hear them,” he gasped. “They’re calling out. They’re—” He swallowed thickly. “Am I becoming one of them?”

  “No.”

  He shook and spasmed. His legs kicked. He crashed onto the tile. His mouth was dry. His throat felt raw and his eyes rolled back.

  “Ashley—” he choked, vision dimming. “—am I dying?”

  “You’re dying,” she said. “But then you’ll be reborn. Listen to me. Don’t fight it.”

  “I can’t—I can’t—” His chest locked. He coughed blood. He clawed at the rug and his breath shuddered. “I’m—I’m not ready—”

  “You don’t have a choice.”

  Sawyer screamed. His back arched off the ground. Every nerve in his body burned. His bones felt too short like he was trying to grow out of them. His gums spasmed. He bit down on something hard, his own teeth.

  The jungle erupted into caws, howls, and screams. Trees bent in the wind. Something shrieked like a demon. A bird slammed into the window.

  He bucked and shook.

  Then he stopped.

  Ashley pressed her hand to his chest.

  Sawyer’s heart stopped beating and he died.