The Falling Away by Hines

existence, talking his way out of every sticky situation. Talking his way into every interesting opportunity. And he’d brought Dylan along for the ride.
    Now, unless Dylan went along for this ride, made a drug exchange with some Canadians, Webb would do it alone.
    Ever the protective big brother , Joni said.
    And I’m so good at it. Look what it did for you .
    â€œOkay,” Dylan finally said. “Let’s call Krunk and tell him I’m in.”
    Webb turned back and flashed his grin again. “Hey, we got this,” he said.
    â€œYeah,” Dylan said. “I just hope it doesn’t get us.”

17
    Quinn hated sleep, hated the idea of sleep, yes. But now, after meeting this guy who called himself Paul, after eating only a few bites of her breakfast, after feeling his hand on her arm and feeling her thoughts and feelings shift inside . . . she almost wanted to sleep. Her mind was sharp, sharper than it had been for as long as she could remember. And a strange excitement danced inside, something like what she’d felt as a young child on Christmas morning, lying awake in her bed, wanting to rush into the living room and see the wonders but holding back because there was something special about that feeling.
    Her mind, her core, were energized and revving. But her body felt drained. An odd mix of sensations.
    After the breakfast, she’d stumbled back to a nearby hotel room with Paul—ha ha, wasn’t that funny, because she’d said that was the last thing she’d ever do—but after their exchange in the restaurant, she knew he presented no danger. Instead, he presented . . . newness. Something different.
    â€œYou okay?” Paul asked as he seated her in an ugly green chair near the room’s dark television.
    â€œYes. No.”
    He smiled. “Natural reaction. We all feel it at first. It’s like, inside you feel electric and alive. Outside, your body doesn’t feel electric; it feels electrocuted.”
    â€œWe?” she asked.
    â€œI’m part of a group called the Falling Away. And I think you’re next.”
    â€œWhy do you think that?”
    â€œBecause you’re meant to be. Because you were chosen.”
    â€œBy?”
    He smiled. “We’ll get to that in a minute. Right now you’re thinking, how does this guy know so much about me? About the way I feel, about the cutting, about everything inside? I know for two reasons. First, because I’ve been through it myself. Not exactly the same thing, but similar. So I know what it feels like to be standing where you are right now, feeling . . . well, like I said before: feeling like you’ve been electrocuted.
    â€œIn a way, that’s what’s happened: your body, your soul, has been through a literal shock to the system. It’s been . . . I guess purged would be the right word for it.”
    â€œPurged?”
    â€œMeans it’s been—”
    â€œI know what purged means. I just graduated from high school, as you pointed out. What I don’t know is what you mean by purged.”
    â€œI mean, you’ve been bottling up these emotions, these feelings of disgust and self-hatred and, well, sometimes rage. Rage against yourself, rage against others. It’s a disease, Quinn, and I’ve pulled that disease out of you.”
    She eyed him, saying nothing. “And what’s the second reason?” she asked.
    â€œHmm?”
    â€œYou said there were two reasons why you knew so much about my life. What’s the second reason?”
    â€œOh,” he said matter-of-factly. “God. God led me to you, and now He wants me to lead you to Him.” He stood, went to the sink, peeled off the surgeon’s gloves he was wearing. He washed his hands, lathering up his arms to the elbows, dried them with a towel he selected out of an open suitcase on the floor, produced fresh gloves, and put them on. Then he returned.
    â€œThat’s