I start to hear some o my ellow rebels’ randomthoughts, which pretty much ruin the camper antasy. The mundane and the terrible whisper all around me.
Then I hear a scream. I crouch and cover my ears.But it’s not a real scream; it’s a scream inside some-one’s mind, and it’s being projected directly into
mind. I see what they see. I see the ace o one o thedead, and I experience losing someone I love, throughthis other mind, again. I’m alone like they’re alone — theway losing someone separates you so completely romeveryone else — and I think o my parents and riendsand all those I’ve lost, and I curse under my breath(sorry, Mom) that someone makes me eel that lossagain.I hear more voices, eel more pain as the newsspreads. I try to shove that pain back on those who orceit at me. Then the voices do ade. I still hear them, but it’s notlike beore. They’re the low mumble o a distant crowd.