Not a good day.

I decided we should go to the edge of the Yellow; if we're looking for Victoria, we need to know that everyone is adapted to the mal. I was most worried about Mo.

We drove out the way we'd gone before. When we were roughly between the two zones, I radioed the others. Both of them reported that they were fine, and we drove on. I began to feel queasy about ten minutes later, and pulled over to check again. Val said she felt sick, and had a terrible headache. Mo didn't respond.

I could see his Jeep in my mirror, but couldn't see Mo. I turned around and drove back. I found him on the ground, clutching his stomach and retching. He was shaking and wasn't responsive. We loaded him into my Jeep, Val towed his, and we raced back to the station. Mo wasn't getting any better, so Val injected him with a sedative and we left him to sleep. I checked in on him before I came to write this, and he was unconscious, still curled up and shaking.

It's better this happened now than if we were two miles into the tunnel with Val in a Jeep outside. If we're lucky, Mo will be better tomorrow. If we're lucky.