The End

A massive vehicle chokes its way up the narrow, curving path to the clinic. Lieu hears churning gears and rattling windowpanes. Lieu doesn’t have a weapon on him. He knows some karate and some capoeira, but since he hasn’t the strength to roll out of the bed, he plays dead.
After ten infinite minutes, the front door bangs open. As a statue, Lieu had practiced well for this performance. He hears many footsteps and stifled whispers on the stairs. His heart begins to race, and he can hear his breathing telegraphing his vulnerability to the intruders. The doorknob to the room swivels.
Grace pokes her head in and smiles. She looks clean and healthy, like an angel. A rott pushes in through the small gap in the door and jumps onto the bed.

“You brought IM?”
“I did better.” Grace opened the door wide to allow IM, Drum, Suave, and Eights to walk in and find places. Lieu sat up for the first time in weeks. It dizzied him, and Drum ordered his friend to lie back down. “They said they could stay a while and help in the clinic. They are training me, and you are my first case.
“I’m going to make you a special soup, Lieu, and I bet after one bowl you’ll feel strong enough to really entertain your company.” Grace excused herself. I’ll send Knuc and Doc up.” She closed the door and let the men remember each other.

Day One Hundred Seventy Seven

“You up already? Hold on. Hold on. Okay, sit…sit…sit right there. Look at you!” Grace applauded Lieu’s first independent trek from the bedroom.
“You brought me back to life.”
“IM did it.”
“I don’t wake up when IM walks in the room just to smell the powder on his chest. You administered the cure.”
“It’s not just a cure, Lieu. It’s a lifestyle change.”
“Be my hero for a little bit, baby. Come sit by me.”
“You were right about one thing, Lieu. Before I left, I was mad. I guess the retreat helped me accept the reality; I can't fix this. So what if I can’t? Does that mean that we die young and miserable? This could be the time predestined for us.”
“I’m satisfied if it is.”