I look at the two Enclave sitting on the floor just outside the open door.

He waves a hand.

—No, man, don't worry about them, they won't do shit I don't tell them to do. They're cool. Just take a poke at me. You know you want to. —Count, why the fuck would I hit you when you're expecting it?

He shakes his head.

—Same old Joe Pitt, no fun at all. Here I am, full of all this new knowledge, all these new skills, changed and wanting to share, and there you are, grumpy as ever, a total fucking drag.

He does a karate kick, pummeling the air with one of his bare feet, the one with the twisted bones jutting from it, the one I mangled for him.

He lowers the foot and smiles.

—But it's cool, it's cool. All I'm trying to do is say that this shit ain't easy. Being Enclave. I mean, sure, I understand that the Vyrus chooses you for this shit. You're either Enclave or you're not, that's what your boy Daniel used to say, yeah? Shit, but, I wouldn't even be here if that wasn't the case. Come to it, you wouldn't be here if that wasn't the case. Daniel hadn't given us both the Enclave stamp of approval, we couldn't come into this place except to get executed. But the point I'm weaving around here is, even if the Vyrus says you're Enclave, this shit is still damn tough. Like, I know this may come as a

shock considering what you think of me, but like this shit is transformative. Really transformative.

He slaps a fist into his palm.

—OK, and I know that sounds redundant. Sure, like, because if the Vyrus doesn't transform you in the first place, then what the hell? But check it. Cause the Vyrus doesn't make you a different person. Yeah? So like me, I didn't suddenly stop being a spoiled-rotten, rich brat just because I needed to drink blood to live. More like, the fact I was already so self-absorbed just made it easier for me to make the transition. Like the rich already live off the fat of the land, so why not the blood as well, yeah? So, but, this stuff, to get it, to really get it, you have to work at it. Well, talk about new concepts for me. Work? Whoa! Not on my agenda.

He leans in. —But being in charge here after Daniel cracked it, that was on my agenda.

He pushes his eyebrows way up.

—And that meant playing a role. Like, putting on the grave face, being all somber and talking in portentous sentences and shit, like so many of these guys do. It meant squatting in lines and pretending to think about the Vyrus. It meant learning that if someone was gonna swing at you, and really try to punch your rib cage out of your chest, that you needed to learn how to go with

the punch.

He stretches his arms at me and points with both index fingers. —Which you would have got to see I can do now if you d taken a shot like I asked, man.

He drops his arms.

—But the point is, you start to do all that, even if it's a total front, even if you've made a life out of doing just enough work to get by, even if all you re really thinking about is how cool its gonna be when you're in charge and get to call all the shots and cut this hard shit from the activities list, you keep doing it for all the wrong reasons, and it doesn't fucking matter. Because, dude, you are doing it.

He spreads his arms. —I'm saying, Look at me, man.