Billy looks down at his hands. He rubs his thumb over his knuckles.
“It’s sweeter,” he says. “Like… honey. And something floral. Underneath the cedar.”
He looks up at us.
“I know that sounds crazy,” he mutters. “But it’s different. It’s stronger. It’s pulling at me.”
I exchange a look with Seth. He looks confused too.
“Maybe it’s the fever,” Jasper suggests. “Sweat changes body odor.”
Billy shakes his head. “No. It’s not just sweat.”
He pauses. He takes a breath, like he’s trying to catch the scent again. His pupils dilate slightly.
“I’ve smelled it before,” he says quietly. “Years ago.”
My heart stops.
I know where this is going. I know what he’s going to say. My own body tenses, responding to the implication.
“When?” Seth asks.
Billy looks at the floor.
“When she used to go into heat,” he says.
The words hang in the air.
Heat.
Seth freezes. Jasper’s eyes widen.
“I could be wrong,” Billy says quickly. “It’s been five years. And she’s sick. Maybe I’m imagining it. But…”
He looks toward the bunkhouse.
The room spins.
Sedona. In heat. Here. Trapped in a tiny bunkhouse. Surrounded by us.
I look at Seth. His face is pale. His hand is gripping the counter so hard his knuckles are white.
If Billy is right… if she is in heat…
This isn’t just a quarantine anymore. This is a powder keg. And we are the matches.
“Are you sure?” Seth asks. His voice is strained.
“No,” Billy says. “I’m not sure. But my instincts are screaming at me. And I can’t… I can’t stay away.”
He pushes off the counter. He heads for the door.
“Billy, wait,” Seth says.
“I have to check on her,” Billy growls. He doesn’t stop. “If she’s going into heat while she’s sick… if she’s alone…”
He yanks the door open and storms out into the night.
