“What the fuck?” Calax stuttered, and I glanced at him in surprise. He wasn’t looking at me, however, but at my vomit. Fucking gross.
 
 On closer inspection, I saw something mixed in with the tawny color. Something black and flaccid.
 
 The worm.
 
 The dead worm.
 
 “Thatwas fucker inside me?” I hissed, barely resisting the urge to pick it up and crush it between my fingers. That might’ve been a little overkill.
 
 Get it? Overkill? Because it was already dead? Sometimes I crack myself up without even realizing it.
 
 “I think we know what happens to the Arctics who enter your bloodstream,” Calax mused, voice tight with disgust.
 
 Before I could reply, the lights flickered once before we were plunged into complete and absolute darkness.