I

Jason

J󰁡󰁳󰁯󰁮 󰁨󰁡󰁴󰁥󰁤 󰁢󰁥󰁩󰁮󰁧 󰁯 󰁬󰁤.

His joints hurt. His legs shook. As he tried to climb the hill, his lungs rattled like a box of rocks. He couldn’t see his face, thank goodness, but his 󿬁ngers were gnarled and bony . B ulg ing b lue veins webbed the ba cks of his hands. He even had that old man smell—mothballs a nd chicken

soup. How was that possible? He’d gone from sixteen to seventy-󿬁ve in a matter of seconds, but the old man smell

happen ed instantly , l ike

b oom.