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Somehow, when Maddie had said 'army', I had pictured rows and rows of soldiers with gleaming uniforms and weapons.

This was not that.

I had pulled up in our second stolen car and stumbled out, my legs cramping from sitting for so long, only to find that our war camp looked more like a messily organized reenactment field where nobody could agree on costumes. Men, women, children, and a wide variety of teenagers wandered around. Some people were wearing formal clothes, like they got out of a board meeting and decided to see what all this was about, while others were wearing ragged jeans and old t-shirts, and still more were just standing in pajama pants and worn sweaters. On top of that, most people didn't have weapons. I saw a few middle-aged women standing together with kitchen knives, a man with an old metal baseball bat, and one teenage boy with long green hair and a frying pan. There was a group of about twenty that had gathered brooms trying and failing to sharpen pieces of the handle into spears on the edge of the camp.

These were the closest things to weapons anyone had. More often than not, I saw families with young children, everyone empty-handed and looking nervous.

We had done this. Maddie, Aretha, Alex, Sofia, Jax and me--if anything happened to these people, if any of the children were orphaned or killed--that was on us.

It was nearly enough to make my knees buckle under the pressure.

I pushed the sentiment aside, trying to make myself seem calm and confident as I strode across the dewy grass, beelining for the billowing white tent in the dead center of the makeshift headquarters. It felt like approaching the eye of a hurricane, and the wind blowing eerily through the trees under gray skies did nothing to alleviate the doomed feeling.

"Oh, you're here. Good. I thought you were going to be late," Maddie said as I walked in, not bothering to look up from the desk she was hunched over.

"We had a bit of trouble stealing a car."

"Speaking of, where's the rest of 'we'?"

"Unloading the car, as far as I know," I paused, considering my next words. "Do you think we're crazy? For trying this, I mean?"

Maddie glanced up, a grim smile decorating her lips. "You were crazy for joining the Wrobel. This is suicidal."

A faint rustling behind me was the only sign that the others had joined us, until Jax spoke. "So why are you doing this? I mean, you're free. Xander hasn't been branded or thrown in a School. Why not run, leave the rest of the world to its fate?"

There was a pregnant pause as everyone watched Maddie, curious for her answer. Slowly, it came, the words stumbling out of her mouth. "When I was little, my parents died. It wasn't Evos. It wasn't some dramatic shoot-out or double homicide. My dad was working a hundred hours a week, barely sleeping, never eating. He got sick--really sick. Not long after he died, Mom stopped being able to put food on the table, and what little she could scrape went straight to Xander and I. Eventually, she was so weak that she couldn't even move. We tried to help her, but I wasn't even ten yet--there was nothing I could do, especially not since Xander was still too young to leave the house and I could be snatched by the Evos.

"She was gone not much longer," Maddie said, her voice soft. She looked up at us, equal parts determination and tears shimmering in her eyes. "I don't want that for Xander. I never want him to feel that weak, that helpless. If we leave--if we run--he will never know anything but fear. He'll never have a home, a family. He deserves more. So if there is a chance in hell for us to take down the people who have prevented me from helping my family, you can bet your ass I'm going to take it."

"Fair enough," Aretha said, nodding her understanding. There weren't condolences exchanged, no tears or 'I'm so sorry's or 'I never knew's. We all had sob stories--going over every slight and sin would only hurt us.

I walked closer to her desk, angling my head so I could see the papers better. They were maps, highlighted in a small rainbow of colors, with dots from a variety of pens marking potential spots for bomb placement.

"I see you've been hard at work," Alex said, glancing over my shoulder. His hand brushed against mine, and I grabbed it, lacing our fingers together.

"Have you considered what happens if this goes wrong?" Sofia asked, her tone unusually firm.

"To be honest, no, I haven't. I've been focusing on how to make it go right."

"That's not enough. You could have a perfect plan, and one variable we haven't considered could make everything go off the rails. We need a backup plan."

"I'm not disagreeing, but this is all pretty last minute, if you haven't noticed. I haven't had time to think up a careful, well-thought-out exit strategy," Maddie said, her voice getting more and more tense while her shoulders tightened.

"Then let me come up with one."

I blinked, surprised. Sofia was always willing to help, but she wasn't the kind of person who threw herself out there and took charge.

I hesitated, but only for a moment. The question had to be asked. "Sofia, are you... you know... alright?"

She looked at us, shoulders back and chin high, and once again I was struck by the realization that I was not the only one who had changed over the course of a few months. The timid Sofia, the Sofia with soft hair and a gentle voice and kind hands, did not stand before us. In her place stood a young woman who understood kindness and cruelty, who knew the difference between right and wrong, and who was willing to plant her feet firmly on one side.

"No. No, I am not alright. We have lived our whole lives in fear, and most of us have nothing--have no one--left to lose, so it's okay if we charge into battle half-cocked because no one cares if we die. But that's us. Those people out there... They have families, lives, friends. They have so much to lose, and if we don't pull this off, all of that--all of the death, the pain, the grief--it's on us. Now, maybe you guys are willing to sit there and do nothing while these people march into battle for us, but I am going to make sure that each and every one of them makes it home."

With that, she turned on her heel and stormed out, leaving the tent flaps swinging angrily in her wake.

"Well, that happened," Alec said, giving my hand a faint squeeze.

"I'll go make sure she's okay," Jax said, sighing. Her gaze flickered back over to Maddie, and she smiled tiredly. "I hope you're ready for tomorrow."

"And then there were four," I muttered. I watched her leave, wondering what the right move was here, in all of this insanity.

Not for the first time, I didn't have an answer.

***

Pre-dawn light was already awakening the birds, but the sky was still dark enough that the light from below made the city glow softly.

It had taken a while, but we had gotten everyone into Rot Core without too much trouble. The guards had been busy deep in the capital, so sneaking in hadn't taken much effort once the doors had swung open. Now, our forces were scattered across a two-block radius, ready to start herding the Evos into the nearby assembly hall when the time came.

But none of us had been expecting this.

Six long stories below, a mass of Evos--the most I had ever seen, more than I could've even imagined existed--we gathered in a tight crowd. Each one held a candle, and scattered across the area were photos and signs. Alex had caught sight of roses scattered across the ground, the petals probably providing a overly sweet odor.

But the oddness of the whole situation wasn't what was suddenly making me wonder about this, about everything. No, that was reserved just for the writing on the signs--letters we didn't even need binoculars to read, thanks to their size:

REMEMBER THE VIOLENCE. REMEMBER THE FALLEN. LONG LIVE THE EVOS.

It was a memorial. Not only was it a memorial, but it was a memorial for victims I hadn't known existed, for lives I hadn't known had been taken. Somehow, that fact made this whole plan of ours feel more perverse, as if we were the tormentors and they the innocent.

"Did you know?" I asked in a hushed voice, my eyes on Alex. "Did you know that G42 was massacring them that whole time?"

He didn't get a chance to answer before the screams started.