Hello Kitty shirt stained with one thing or another, dirty white shorts that may have been tan at some point, and a pair of white flip-flops strapped with once-pretty rhinestones. Her face in thin, way too thin for her to have been with someone taking care of her. She looks like she's Sam's age. And her teeth are chattering. Had she been with anyone, I'm sure they would have prepared her for the weather better.

      Which means she's alone.

      Nobody says anything for a very long time, and then Sam whispers, "Megan?"

      "Who the hell is Megan?" Zombie asks, gaping a him, head flying back and forth between them.

      Sam ran towards her before anyone could stop him. He stopped halfway to her, like he did back in Wright-Patterson after mistaking Ringer for Cassie, and stared. The little girl didn't even blink. Her lips were basically purple. Hypothermia was setting in quick. We'd have to find her some better clothes if she turned out not to be hostile.

      Sam turned to us and said, "Megan!" as if he were pointing out the obvious. "It's Megan, Ghost. She was on the bus with us!" He turned back to her. "Hi, Megan."

      Zombie looked to me, wondering if I remembered her, too. I shook my head. I was passed out the whole bus ride. The only reason I knew Sam was because he woke me up.

      "Poundcake," Zombie says, softly like he doesn't want to spook the poor child. "Check the stairs. Dumbo, take the windows. Then sweep the first floor, both of you. There's no way she's alone."

      "Unless she is," I say quickly, glancing at her. How could someone leave a child to die like this?

      Unless Vosch just dropped her off in a chopper, ready and loaded with a tracking device to find us.

      Megan opened her mouth to speak. A high-pitched, scratchy whine of, "My throat hurts." before her eyes rolled back into her head and she started to fall. Sam raced forward but was too late: she went down fast, forehead smacking against the carpeted floor.

      Zombie and Cassie ran to her while I ran to Sam. Pulled him away from his unconscious friend and wrapped my arms around his front, as if that could save him from whatever was happening.

      Zombie bent down to pick Megan up and Cassie scolded him. "You shouldn't be lifting anything."

      "She doesn't weigh anything," he protested. I kick his calf to shut him up and Cassie lifted her up. She comes up fast, like Cassie expected her to weigh much more than she actually did. I'm sure that was actually the case. Megan couldn't have weighed more than 35 pounds.

      Cassie carried her into Evan's room, placed her on the empty bed, and piled six layers of blankets over her quivering body. She turns, tells Sam to fetch her rifle from the hall. And then it's just her, Zombie, me, and two unconscious people.

      "This doesn't fit," Zombie says from the doorway. Cassie and I both nod. We all know that there was no way she randomly wandered in here, or managed to even survive in that stupidly chosen outfit. Vosche sent her here to take us out.

      Though I have no idea how a 35 pound five-year-old was supposed to do that, even with a tracking device. Besides, if they knew we were here, why send in Megan in the first place? It didn't make sense.

      "They know we're here," Cassie says, confused. "But instead of firebombing the building, they drop her in. Why?"

      Sam came back with Cassie's rifle. He says, "That's Megan. We met on the bus on the way to Camp Haven, Cassie."

      "Small world, huh?" Cassie pushed him from Megan, towards Zombie. "Thoughts?"

      I stared at them both. "Can't be a tracker, before you say it." I nod at Zombie. "No point in having a tracker if they already know we're here. And if she stopped, wouldn't they set it off? It means she's here, she's found help, and really we're the only ones around stupid enough to trust some dumb kid that has probably been sent to kill us."

      "We should still check," Zombie insists. "Maybe they sent her here with a tracker in case we started moving somewhere else. That way they would still know where we are."

      He's right, of course, though it still doesn't make sense. This is too much work for some high-tech aliens, but then again they decided to try and kill us all off with five waves and not a killer death-ray or some shit. They were insanely smart and insanely dumb at the same time.

      I watch Cassie check her neck. She turns to us and shakes her head. I purse my lips and glance away. This is stupid. It had to be something else, something we're not thinking of.

      "They know we'd look there," Zombie said impatiently. "Search her. Every inch, both of you. Sam, you come with me."

     "Why can't I stay?" Sam whined. Still innocent but not as innocent as he should be.

      "You want to see a naked girl?" Zombie made a face. "Gross."

      Zombie and Sam left. Cassie rubs her eyes tiredly. She doesn't want to do this.

      "I can do it," I offer, surprising both of us. "I'd rather do it than have you mess up."

      Ah, there it is.

      Cassie purses her lips. She pulls the blankets off of Megan's thin body and stares at her with sad eyes. And then she started to cry.

      She had to turn away from me, cheeks red and tears sliding down her face without any warning. I didn't know what to do. Should I be crying, too? Why was she crying? Surely she's seen worse.

      Or maybe it's because Megan is a little kid. Kind of like when I watched them cart off Thomas' body for the furnace, it was too much for her.

      I say nothing to her. I let her cry and help her strip the tiny girl of what little clothing she has. That's when it hits me that this could have been Teacup or Thomas or Sam. Any one of them could have been lying in this bed being stripped and checked for a pellet that would lead to a bunch of people's deaths.

      And I almost started to cry, too, because the world isn't fair. But I'm used to the world. And I'm used to the Others, to what they do to people, to humanity. And I'm so damn used to it that it's making me feel physically sick.

      I spring up, race out of the room, past Sam and Zombie in hall, down the stairs, and out into the crisp cold air. It's just beside the disgusting hotel that I collapse to my knees and relieve the few contents in my stomach.

      She's just a kid. Just some stupid kid who managed to survive and who managed to fall into the Others clutches, just like Teacup and Sam and me and Zombie and Dumbo and Poundcake and every other survivor torn from our ruined world and thrown into the pits of Hell.

      When I sit back, nothing left to throw up besides my organs, butt soaked from the snow beneath me, I think I understand why the Others sent in Megan. Wonderland told them everything they needed to know to take us down.

      Send in a kid as a weapon, link us with her inevitable demise, take away our humanity. Make us kill her, leave us without the souls and hope that got us this far. Make us kill one of the remaining to save some of the last.

      But Vosche has yet to realize that he will never win. There will always be someone somewhere still alive and still thriving. They may be the last, but they will never be alone. We will be inside of them, all seven billion os us, and we will take him down.

      Vosche doesn't stand a chance.