"You're--" and Holden's hindbrain lights up with danger signals. Which, to be fair, has been blaring things about danger danger danger for at least four months, but there's always something especially keen when it involves someone Jim doesn't want to get hurt.

"Shit. No, you're not -- don't touch me." Which sounds bad, now that it's escaped from his mouth, but he can explain. That shit that's in everyone's eyes, it's probably all over Holden's skin, his boots, under his fingernails -- hell, up his nose? He might not be susceptible, but he sure as hell could be a carrier.