greatly, Hussein.”
“As do you and the others, cousin.”
He decided to try to reason with Omari, if only for the boy, even though he knew it was hopeless. “Do not do this, Omari.”
His cousin laughed. “You would die for him? For what? Why? You would risk catching plague and infect the rest of us?”
He smiled at his cousin. “You are already infected, I am afraid.”
“I have handled none of them, you fool, unlike you, who clutch that boy and are probably now infected yourself.”
“I was referring to your soul.”
The weapon was lowering, Omari considering something, baffled, it seemed, then Hussein saw the madness fly back into his eyes. Even before the weapon was up and blazing, Hussein Nahbat had a stark revelation, aware in his dying moment, as he felt the bullets tearing first into the boy, that he had only been dreaming a fool’s dream for thinking he and the boy could have survived this chaos.
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