Star and Elias follow along behind Devin. Their lights disappear as they make the turn around the corner into the tunnel Star found.  America waits for me as I limp behind. I try not to wince each time I put my weight on my bad ankle.

"Are you okay?" he asks. His brow furrows with concern. Sweat drips from his hairline, running through the dirt cakes on his forehead.

"I'm fine." I walk one hand along the side of the cave as we turn into the tunnel, using the cold stone surface to help support myself. "That tentacle thing just grabbed my ankle when we were running. It got me again in the tunnel, thankfully the same leg so at least I still have one good one. It's probably just a bruise or something."

I pause for a second to rest. Up ahead, Elias, Star, and Devin speak in hushed voices that echo around the tunnel like whispering ghosts.

"At least I didn't get bitten." My mind flashes back to the swirling mass of tentacles and wings devouring Lou and his guttural, choking screams as they tore him apart. I think about the screaming of the other group on the radio as they were attacked by the same creatures we were. The radio gave out in complete static. We heard nothing else from them. Did that mean—

I cut my thought off before I can finish it, swallowing a lump in my throat. "Or eaten," I finally add.

America pinches his eyes closed, probably trying to block out the same memories. We are silent for a moment. I wince as I push myself off the wall and continue to limp. I don't want to fall too far behind the rest of the group.

"Here." America reaches over to me, putting his arm around my waist. "Let me help. You're limping really bad."

"I've got it." I shrug away, but in the process, I stumble over a divot in the ground.

"Careful." America grabs me at the waist, bracing me so I don't fall. "You'll be helping me, too. I lost my headlamp. I need yours to see."

"Fine." Begrudgingly, I let him help me along, putting my arm around his shoulder for support. I glance at him out of the corners of my eyes. His gaze is trained ahead, and his face is tense. He licks some blood from his lower lip.

"Are you okay, America? Your mouth's bleeding."

"I just bit my tongue on the way down," he says.

"What about your head? You're the only one that took that fall without a helmet."

"Bit of a headache, but I'll recover." He shrugs, laughing lowly under his breath. "I was already stupid enough to throw my most useful item at a flying sea cucumber, so I doubt hitting my head could make me that much worse off."

A half-smile crosses my face. I kick a small stone. The sound of it bouncing against the rocky sides of the cave reverberates through the tunnel until the echoes are lost in the distance.

"You can't be that stupid if you were picked to go on this mission," I say. "They weren't sending just anyone."

He smiles at me. "Fair point." Then, he purses his lips into a frown. A small crease forms on his dirt-streaked forehead.

I know the expression. He's thinking.

I remember our conversation when we first got off the starship. He told me he committed a crime with the specific intention of getting on this mission. How did he know about it in the first place? Who was he before coming here?

"So, what did you do before going to prison?" I begin, my voice faltering slightly with hesitation. I'm not nervous about questioning him. It's just the whole concept of small talk that makes me uneasy. "Who is America Lee?"

He chuckles lightly. "Oh, right. I guess we have nothing better to do than make small talk, do we?"

"I honestly hate small talk," I say. "But I'm curious."

"Okay, fine. I'll bite." A pause. "Before going to prison, I was an engineer. Pretty boring. Just designing shit, you know?" He flashes me a grin, but his eyes only meet mine for a second.

I suck in my cheeks and chew on them. I can't tell if it's a lie or not, but even if it is the truth, it's only a partial truth. He's hiding something. "What sort of shit?" I kick a small stone into the side of the tunnel. The pop of it colliding against other stones echoes hollowly through the cave.

America takes a moment to adjust his grip under my arm. "Rollercoasters, mostly," he finally says.

I can't help but let out a laugh. It's a lie, obviously. "Rollercoasters? No, really? I didn't even know they still made those things."

"They still make some." His voice lowers as he glances off to the side of the cave.

He's lying for sure this time. "Right, and I'm sure Mother Russia was really interested in all of our Top Secret . . . roller coaster designs," I say. "Those must be the secrets you gave away to them, right? After all, the Russians are in a heated race with the US of A to see who has the best theme parks. Chernobyl Heights was a bust, but I'm sure Moscow Mountain—"

America chuckles under his breath. "The secrets I pretended to give Russia didn't have anything to do with theme parks, Shawn." He shakes his head. "I didn't have any secrets. I just made them up, remember? Corrupted files?"

I role my eyes and let out an audible sigh. "Sure."

After a moment, he looks back to me, a smile on his face again. "And what about you? What did you do before going to prison? Who is Shawn Heart?"

"I was a criminal," I respond without missing a beat. "Then, I got caught."

He shakes his head and snorts a laugh. "Well, obviously. But what did you do? Occupation? Hobbies?"

"I worked as an accountant for the insurance company I stole the money from," I respond. He might be lying, but there is no reason for me to make anything up. The ins and outs of my life—including irrelevant and personal details—were broadcast to all of the United States during my trial. I have nothing to hide from anyone, and my capacity to feel shame or embarrassment has long been exhausted.

"As soon as I graduated college," I continue, "I applied for jobs at all of the major health insurance companies. I took the spot at the first one that offered me a position." I pause. "It's easier to embezzle billions when you are already on the inside."

America smirks. "Yeah, but it also makes you a pretty obvious suspect."

"Thanks, America," I say. "Great advice. I'll be sure to keep that in mind for my next heist." I roll my eyes, but I can't help a small smile sneaking across my lips.

"Don't worry, Shawn. Being on a planet four and a half light years from Earth will make a great alibi. You've got the next one in the bag." He winks at me.

"Thanks, great point," I say. "You're a natural at this, you know? Maybe I'll even let you be my accomplice next time if you don't annoy me to death first."

America grins. "I'll try my best not to, but annoying people is one of my hobbies. Some would say I'm a natural at that as well."

"Figures," I say.

My light flashes up ahead, illuminating the emptiness of the tunnel ahead of us. I know we've been walking slowly because of my ankle, but I hadn't realized how far behind the other's we'd gotten.

"Come on, we better catch up," I say. "We don't want to lose them."

"True," America says. "It would be a horror for you to be stuck with only me."

He tightens his grip on me, helping me to keep the weight off my leg as we pick up the pace. After making a turn to the left, the other three come into view up ahead. Star glances over her shoulder, then she says something to the guys. They all slow their pace, allowing America and I to catch up.

"How long does this cave go on for?" Devin grumbles.

"We've only been walking for a few minutes," Star responds.

"My arm is killing me," Devin whines. "What the fuck were those teeth made of, razor blades laced with fire ant venom?" He scratches at his bicep. Blood oozes from the fabric of his space suit as his fingers dig into his skin.

"Don't scratch at it like that," Elias tells him. He reaches out towards him, but Devin jerks away.

"Don't touch me." He grimaces, clawing deeper at his arm. "It feels like it's burning."

In the beam of my headlamp, something in the blood slithers. My mind flashes back to the maggots I saw squirming between the teeth of those monsters, and a shudder rushes through me.

"What the fuck," Devin says, suddenly pausing. He grips his arm right below the bite. "Oh my God!"

"What?" America asks.

"There's something in it. There's something in my arm!" He claws at his skin with his nails. "Get them out of me! Get them the fuck out of me!"

"Devin, calm down." Elias takes a step towards him.

"Back the fuck off, old man!" Devin snarls, baring his teeth behind the glass mask of his helmet.

Elias puts both hands up and steps back.

My heart races, pounding against my rib cage.

"What the fuck," Devin mutters under his breath, reaching into the bite with his thumb and index finger. His jaw clenches in a grimace as he plucks a long, fat maggot out of his flesh. The hooked teeth at the end of its mouth cling to his skin. Its body stretches like a rubber band, until with a sickening pop, it releases.

"What the hell is that thing?" Star gasps.

Devin tosses it to the ground. It hits the stones with a smack, squirming like it's on fire. Immediately, Star stomps on it. It squelches into inky black goo beneath her foot.

"I can feel them in me." Devin runs his hands over his body. Like red, bloody veins, a dozen worms writhe in the open wound, twisting and feeding in his flesh. He scratches at them again, pulling out half a dozen in a clawed hand. They crawl between his fingers. Others in his arm pulse and inch away, slinking beneath the skin.

He tosses the handful to the ground where they splatter like vomit. "They're inside me!" He throws his arms around himself, pulling down the zipper on the front of his space suit.

His hands rake over his bare chest. Veins throb beneath his skin as the worms crawl through him. He digs into himself with his nails until he bleeds. "Get them out!"

"Devin, stop!" I yell. "You're hurting yourself!" I reach out to him, but he swats my hand back.

"It's burning! Oh my God, my head. My fucking head!" Devin snaps his helmet off and tosses it to the side. "It's like something's pressing against my brain!"

He clutches at his temples, and then he reaches to his mouth. The sound of him panting fills the entire tunnel. He groans and coughs like he is choking.

We all stand frozen in fear around him, none of us knowing what to do. I can hear my own blood rushing behind my ears.

Devin gags and braces himself at the knees with one hand, grasping his jaw with the other. With a convulsing wretch, he spits into his palm. When he pulls his shaking hand away from his lips, a strand of blood sticks like a thread running between his mouth and his fingers.

"What is that?" Star asks, but I don't think any of us want to know the answer.

In Devin's hand, amid a mass of bloody saliva, is a tooth.