"I said NOW!" the rebel woman yells, rushing the interns out of the bunker. Confusion and fear fills the air as teens pile out of the room, guns pointed at their hearts. A girl's breathing become ragged and shallow below me in the stairwell. Then I hear a gun barrel click, and the rebel lady yells again.

The man assigned to escorting me up the stairs echoes his leader. "Let's go, c'mon, move it!" he says in a rough voice, shoving the barrel of his rifle into the middle of my back. I stumble forward, my hands pushing out to break my fall on the concrete stairs.

Stephen's voice says something behind me, and before I can stand up, he and the rebel clash. Guns click everywhere as the scuffle unfolds. Someone drags me to my feet, and I grab the railing for balance. I turn my head to find Stephen fighting a man, a gun trained in between his eyes.

"Stephen, stop," I say. A metal gun pokes my back again, and the realization of danger and tension stiffens the air. I bite hard on my lip.

"H-Holland," Stephen says, stopping his fight. A gun pushes my feet to climb a few more steps.

"Stephen, I'm fine." I give in to the rebel and raise my hands above my shoulders.

"We want to help you, but you must keep moving," the deep voice commands harshly. I obey his commands and turn to mount the stairs, dirt pushing into the heels of my bare feet. I climb level after level of steps, leading the group of fearful interns closer and closer to their rebel-controlled fate.

Once we reach the lobby, the rebel lowers his gun and roughly grabs my arms. He leads me out of the building and directly into a single, dirt-beaten vehicle, the car idly waiting to contain its first prisoner. I steal a final glance at the city's desolate, smoldering streets before I'm shoved into the depths of the vehicle with Stephen.

As soon as the door slams shuts, Stephen and I are consumed by semi-darkness. The safety belts in the vehicle glow a bright blue, giving us some shadowy light.

"Stephen, stay facing that door," I say, heaving myself off the floor and onto the leather seat. My dress hitches up my thighs. "They're going to open it again, and we can ambush them."

"Agreed," he says, shifting his weight and facing the door. He positions his foot on the door, his body ready to push his weight if necessary. As we regain our breath, the vehicle gently pulls forward and then back again.

"Holland?" Stephen says.

"Yeah?"

"I hate these people."

"I do, too."

"I don't know what to do anymore," Stephen says, turning his head slightly towards me. "It drives me insane that people want us imprisoned. These rebels have the chance to change that, but they aren't."

"People with power never use it the right way," I reply bitterly, not sure how to soothe his frustration. I'm suddenly overcome with a wave of love for Stephen, one that I've never felt more than I do now. I quickly swallow it away.

Stephen remains silent for another moment as the vehicle turns. "I really hope we're wrong about these rebels," he says.

A sudden slam of breaks throws us into the wall of the vehicle. Doors whip open on both sides, pairs of hands ripping each of us from the vehicle. Half-blinded by the sudden light, we're hastily led into a shapeless building.

"Take them to three," a voice says from the communications of the rebel next to me. The rebel's grip on my arm strengthens as he leads Stephen and I down a dull hallway. With an unneeded shove, Stephen and I are forced into a blank room and locked to metal chairs, the rebel grip over us still too tight.

Before I can even utter a word, the rebel lady from the bunker enters the room, her dark hair now pulled back into a tight bun. Dismissing the guards from the room, she crosses the length of the room, placing her palms on the metal table in front of us.

We stare emptily into her dark, bottomless eyes. "Well," she comments, breaking the silence, "you two look like hell."

"No, really," I deadpan with a straight face. Stephen muffles a laugh.

The woman's smirk stiffens. "You might want save that tone for the actual enemy, Miss Renner."

"Why should I?" I retort smoothly, having nothing left to lose. I'm blurting out words before I can filter them, questioning everything. "Stephen and I fought off how many of your bombs again?" I turn to Stephen, emphasizing my point. "Two? Three? Plus all those guns?"

The rebel lady sighs, "Honey, that's not why you're here--"

"Yeah, it is," Stephen says suddenly, turning to the woman. "That's exactly why we're here."

"Enough," the rebel commands loudly, slapping her fists on the table. I involuntarily glare due to her volume. The woman composes herself with a short exhale before continuing. "I'm Commander Delphin, and I'm here to help you, to make a deal with you."

I nearly roll my eyes. As if some deal could rescue us from the wrath of the Screeners or the Enhancement Project. As if some deal could bring back my mother or the way life used to be. Neither of us end up saying a word to her. We just stare right through her, lost in our own thoughts. The woman exhales, uncurling her fists and reeling our unfocused eyes back to her.

"I'm prepared to offer you both immunity in exchange for any information you can give me about the Enhancement Project," the rebel lady says.

"How do you know about the Project?" Stephen says immediately. "And immunity from what?"

"From any danger you may find yourself in," she says, ignoring Stephen's first question. "As a minimum, we'll keep you two out of the front lines--"

"Front lines... you don't mean war, do you?" I say, my voice sharp.

The rebel woman sighs again, "Yes, I mean war. We need every person in this city to keep those government Screeners out. They're dangerous."

"That's impossible," I shoot back at her. "There's only a hundred of you people against the hundreds of thousands of Screeners that'll be send here."

"Precisely," the woman says, "but we have every lower-class citizen in this city on our side."

"And we're supposed to be impressed by that?" Stephen dismisses.

The lady's eyes turn into lasers. "Who do you think can reach all of the lower-class citizens at once? Who do you think supervises over the earpieces they use in the farmlands? Who do you think has the power to speak to all of them and foster their minds with a new cause to be loyal to?"

Stephen mumbles something under his breath, but I answer her for him. "Keep dreaming, lady. This is a trap. For all we know, this is completely fake."

"Mr. Moore, we are real," the lady counters. "No government lies would involve killing off the best Screeners and result in a complete loss of control.

"And Miss Renner, do you really want this current way of life to continue?" the rebel says. "Your own country staged your death and killed you mother. That doesn't sound like a place I'd want to protect. There's a better way for everyone to live, without nearly as many ridiculous rules."

I exhale and lean back against my chair, defeated. How does she know all of our secrets? And what on Earth is she talking about?

Stephen asks, "How do we know that you're not lying to us?"

The woman laughs, "Why would I lie? It doesn't take a scientist to figure out that something's wrong with this nation. So my forces and I will fix it."

"With handcuffs and assault weapons?" Stephen counters.

"Mr. Moore, we need to act quickly, and I've already made the announcement to the city," the woman says. "Everyone is suited up to fight the Screeners, an idea we've been planting for a long time. All we're waiting for is your word of acceptance, as with Miss Renner's."

With the tap of her finger, the wall behind the woman shifts, revealing a massive screen. Our handcuffs pop open, and the rebel woman motions for us to come closer. Cautiously standing, I approach her as she manipulates a live map of the city.

On the screen, thousands of fake Screeners stand rigid on the city border, their red uniforms peeking our in between buildings. The rebel lady explains briefly to us that the Screeners are everyday citizens dressed in excess gear from the Grand Rapids textile factory. There's no good explanation why they'd fight their beloved Screeners unless someone convinced them there's a war to be fought.

"So what do you say?" the woman says, tapping the map once more. "Are you going to join us or are you going to let the government continue running the Enhancement Project?"

I turn to face Stephen, his eyes glancing once more over the city before meeting mine. His eyes look conflicted, but he nods subtly. He doesn't fully understand her, neither do I. There's something fiery and trustworthy about her, but it's easy to fool people.

"We'll join you," I say for the both of us, skimming my eyes over the map again, "but there's something you need to know about the people protecting your city."

"And what would that be?" the woman says.

I flick my eyes into hers. "Some of those citizens were injected with Enhancement Project syringes," I say, my temples zapping at the mention of their namesake project. The intensity of the pulses are weak due to heat damage, but they follow a steady pattern.

"And what exactly is the Enhancement Project?" the woman asks.

I completely forget about the zapping. "What?" Stephen and I gape in sync, ripping our eyes away from the screen. We stare at the women in a twisted form of shock and disbelief.

Stephen breaks the silence. "You don't know what the Enhancement Project is?"

"No," the woman says, under the impression that we're the crazy ones somehow. "That's why the two of you are being offered immunity. All I know is that teens are being pronounced dead in freak accidents and those same teens are becoming Screeners."

Stephen runs a frustrated hand through his hair. "And you still don't know--"

An explosion of sound blasts in the distance. I whip my eyes towards the screen instinctively, my chest jolting in fear. Waves of threatening red vehicles approach the thin border of citizens. Vehicle doors fly open, guns rise, and Screeners rush out in solid formations. Another explosion rockets in the distance, this time out of our vision.

Panic immediately throttles my body, and I breathe, my fingers anxious to get out there. I want to stop the Screeners, to stop everyone from doing everything forever. Guns continue to fire as one Screener falls dead to the ground. I visibly jump, turning away from the screen, facing the rebel lady instead.

"The Enhancement Project can control people's bodies," I say quickly, the image of the dead Screener replaying in my mind, "so there are probably 300 people out there that are not in charge of their own actions."

-- -- -- -- --

Enhancement is back in business, and there's much more to come. Leave a :) in the comments if you missed Holland and Stephen (Hephen).

Question: Pick a name: Nathan or Tanner. (If you remember these names from chapter one ilysm)