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Now, I'd apologize for not updating in so long, but let's be honest--this is so not the worst chunk of time I've gone without anything. With that in mind, I hope that all of you enjoy this chapter--I've been working on it since this morning and I'm staring to get a bit light-headed from the hunger.

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Now... Be free!!!!

At first, none of us had believed Aretha. But after we all looked through the papers and came to the same conclusion, then double and triple checked it for any other possible meanings, we had to stop argueing.

The idea that Evos might get their emotions back was... overwhelming. None of us had ever lived in a world where everyone could feel, where everyone had a conscious. I had studied the Old World for years, but the idea of returning to a society like that was too full of hope, brimming with happiness. The question now was whether or not we could ever fully repair the damage done over the last 50 years.

Regardless, giving them the ability to feel guilt again would, hopefully, give us Non-Evos a chance to catch our breath and get rid of this demonic system we've been trapped in.

Which is why I was currently standing in the shadows next to a run-down alley, my heart pounding with terrifying loudness, while muffled sounds echoed out of the darkness.

"Are you almost done?" I asked, the harsh sound of a whisper floating across the space between Alex and I.

"Purple, you're supposed to be looking out for Evos, not watching me work. That's the whole point of having a look-out. It's right in the name," he responded, his words faintly slurred due to the screwdriver he held in his mouth.

"Would you just hurry up, please?"

"I would already be done if you didn't keep interrupting."

After that, I took the hint and stood quietly, glancing from side to side, listening for anything other than the sounds of pieces metal clanking together. Agonizing seconds ticked by, and by the time he said he was done, my nervous were beyond frayed--they had been chopped into little pieces and lit on fire.

"You know, I could've helped with that," I grumbled as we pulled out onto the road.

"No, you couldn't have."

"Why? Because I'm a girl?"

"No," he said, glancing at me with something between annoyance and bemusement, "Because I learned how to fix up old stuff in a mechanic shop when I was twelve, and you didn't. You'd have gotten in the way."

I deflated slightly, clearly losing the argument but unwilling to give up. "Oh, really? And when did you have time to do that--in between lessons and beatings?"

"Do you really think no one ever snuck out of the School?"

I humphed unhappily, scowling at the old, cracking dashboard that still held the smell of lavender.

We were headed to the Evo capital, nicknamed Rot-Core by Non-Evos, when the old truck had finally given up and we'd been forced to pull over while Alex found a way to fix the damn thing. He'd used some fancy, made-up sounding words, talking about oil levels and how something was leaking and something else was rusted and a bunch of other stuff. The only part I understood was when he said it was "a miracle this thing even works", and that I disagreed with. Delicious food and clean water suddenly appearing was a miracle. Getting freed was a miracle. Surviving long enough to see grandchildren was a miracle.

A machine doing what it was built to do was not a miracle.

After explaining my opinion, Alex muttered that it was just an expression, and then we were quiet for a long time.

The closer we got to the city, the more curious I became. Rot-Core was strictly Non-Evo territory--the only place in the country where Evos weren't allowed to keep Non-Evo slaves or pets or farmers or anything else. As far as I knew, no Non-Evo had ever been inside, and that was how they wanted to keep it. There were all sorts of rumors that circulated about what was inside its huge, towering walls--things like flying cars and plants that could change your skin color just by eating them, huge buildings called aquariums that had walls full of luminescent fish. Of course, there were also the other stories, the ones that talked about Non-Evos being tortured for information, about cannibalistic sects, about ever-burning fires Rot-Core Evos kept to toss unsuspecting victims into.

Either way, if we were caught, there was no chance that it would end any way but with us dead.

We zoomed past a faded, half knocked-over sign stating SAN DIEGO: 62, dust churning up into the air in our wake, and my daydreams kept me company.

***

The car door slammed shut, jolting me out of a light sleep.

"Hey," I said, stifling a yawn as I slipped out my side, "Are we here?"

"No," he said sarcastically, "I drove us to the other giant wall that has no purpose."

I glanced up, realizing we were standing in the huge shadow of the mile-high concrete wall that surrounded Rot-Core.

"Oh. Right. That wall," I said, feeling increasingly foolish. It was a terrible thing, to get sent on a covert mission with your ex-boyfriend when you: a) still liked him, b) had a habit of making a fool of yourself, or c) both.

"So do you think this will work?"

"One way to find out," he said, shrugging. "And if it doesn't, what's the worst that can happen?"

"We're tortured for hours and then publicly executed."

"I was trying be make a joke... You know, sarcasm?" he asked, shaking his head at my bluntness. This time it was my turn to shrug.

We crouched with our backs to the cement wall in some bushes near the road after hiding the truck behind some trees and vines, listening for the steady rumbling of a car coming our way. After a couple seconds, my muscles started to cramp up, and it was roughly fifteen painful minutes later that one finally came driving past. The sleek convertable paused, and sure enough, two guards walked out to meet it, asking for I.D. Someone inside handed over a small, black item, which they flipped open, checking on something, before handing it back. Two huge, steel doors slid open in the wall, like post-apocalyptic bunker doors opening, and the car drove in, engine purring lightly. One of the guards yawned as we slipped past into the open doors, both of them closing their eyes for a brief second--they might be a different subspecies, but post-lunch sleepiness is universal.

We stood inside, staring up at the city that sprawled before us, our eyes wide.

"I can't believe a plan that stupid actually worked," I said, shocked.

"I can't believe we agreed to participate in a plan that stupid," Alex said.

My mind finally processed what lay in front of us, and I got vertigo, looking at the size of the city. I'd never seen anything larger than three or four stories, but all around us, skyscrapers shot upwards, as if we were ants in a forest made of glass and metal.

"Alright," Alex said, blinking in awe as he pulled me to the side, tucked into an out-of-the-way corner. "Time to get to work."