I headed straight for Gibsie’s room and let myself inside. I didn’t bother to knock because we didn’t do that kind of thing. I strolled over to his bed and inspected his limp body, huddled under the duvet. “Are ya dead, Gibs?” Startled by the sound of my voice, Gibs shot straight up, only to hiss out a pained breath and gingerly settle back down on his side. “I am, lad.” “Is it catching?” I asked, sitting down beside him. “You do look like you’re halfway dead all right.” I reached out a hand and touched his clammy forehead. “Jesus, you’re burning up, lad.” Concern roared to life inside of me.
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