And then it all came out, Ethan’s legs buckling like he didn’t have bones, and he crashed to the deck on his knees. His hands rose, covering his face as he pitched forward, a soundless scream caught in the hollows of his chest. Scott went to the deck with him and pulled Ethan against his filthy shirt. His arms wrapped around Ethan’s shoulders, holding him tight as Ethan screamed into Scott’s chest, wailed into his friend’s body. A nuke had gone off in his chest, in the center of his heart, and he was dying. He knew he was dying.
