"Take off your shoes," Nathan instructs me once he's cracked his knuckles. I look at Phoebe in desperation, but now she's busy doing something on an electronic pad. I'm guessing it's work related based on the furrowed brows, exhaustive sighs, and furious typing.

My eyes are probably screaming in fear, because Nathan half smiles and says, "Just... take off your shoes." He bends down and lifts a box of cushioned gear. "And put these on."

I do as he says for my own protection, and once my knees, elbows, chest, and head are protected, I step onto the mat across from Nathan. He motions for me to step closer, and when I do, he says, "Okay. Now attack me."

I look at Phoebe again, but she's still focused on her electronic pad. "What do you mean? Like... tackle you or...?"

"Try to kick me."

I bite my lip and muster my courage. I try to kick him, but he quickly pushes my leg away. I stumble a bit, my ankle still sore, and try again. "C'mon, Red. Even Kunkle could do better than that and he's pathetic."

Phoebe doesn't intervene, so I kick harder. I told him not to call me Red, and no one calls Declan pathetic.

"That's a little better, but I still don't know why we had to find you. You're nothing special. You're just another survivor who got lucky. You can't help us, and you're not worth our time."

I stop trying to kick him for a moment to catch my breath, since his words, like echoes of old familiar thoughts, have knocked the wind out of me.

I regain my strength and feel my cheeks tingle with anger, just like they did last night, so I crouch down and charge. I ram my shoulder into his stomach, and even though I feel his strong arms trying to push my body off of his, I've already knocked him off his balance. While he stumbles to catch himself, I straighten up, grab his shoulders, and knee him in his crotch. He coughs and falls to the ground.

I want to say something clever and powerful like I did last night, but all I can think to say is, "Don't call me Red."

Phoebe sits up in her chair and finally rests the electronic pad on her lap. I watch her face, waiting for the red marks of anger to fill her cheeks, but she just shifts her focus between me and Nathan. He rolls onto his side, still coughing, and lifts himself from the mat. "I know," he says weakly. "I wanted to make you mad. You were holding back, because you still felt bad about last night."

"I don't feel bad about last night," I lie.

He coughs a bit more, clears his throat, and says, "Yes you do. I know you do, because Dr. Patel told me that your mom started taking her medication today. So you know by now that I helped create the medicine that is saving her life. So you have to feel bad."

"You don't know anything about me, so stop pretending like you do."

Phoebe sits back in her chair and gives me the look. The look Mom gives me after I've spoken out of turn. The look Dad used to give me when I'd argue with him about hunting, the only thing we ever really argued about.

I take a few deep breaths to swallow my pride. "I'm not sorry for what I said. You were being a jerk, and you deserved it. But I am sorry for how I spoke to you last night."

"You're right. I was wrong. I'm sorry." It looks like that physically hurt him to say, but he smiles now that he has. "Dr. Patel made me say that."

I let myself smile and kick him in the shin. He laughs, rubbing his leg, and for a moment, I feel guilty for playing around. His smile is too genuine, and I've become too unfocused. I straighten up and say, "We should get back to training."

"Okay," he says, probably confused by the sudden change in my attitude.

"But before we do, I want to say... ugh... I want to say thank you for creating that medicine with Dr. Patel. My mom means everything to me, so...." The tingling in the back of my throat stops my words. I don't want to even let my eyes water in front of Nathan, so I smile and extend my hand. He scoffs and hits it away.

"That looked painful, but your animosity toward me aside, it's no problem. Just doing my job."

"Okay."

"Now let's get back to work."

Nathan teaches me where to strategically strike, even though I already knew about one area in particular. He shows me how to strike a person's nose, neck, and stomach. And then he shows me how to block strikes and debilitate an attacker. For the first time in my life, fighting feels comforting. With each punch and each kick, a little of the anger I've kept pent up inside me releases. It also helps that I'm punching the most arrogant person I've ever met.

Then Phoebe's walkie-talkie sounds with Alexander's gruff voice, "Droids spotted in a residential area to the south. All search and rescue personnel to the patio," and both she and Nathan spring into action. She folds her chair and throws it into a supplies closet on desk, while Nathan tears up the mat and yells at me to put away my gear.

We throw them into the supplies closet, and when I turn around, I see Winston, Alexander, Phoebe, and other Deathless I don't recognize in hard hats and goggles, just as they were dressed when they pulled me from the Prowler. With large metallic guns holstered at their sides, they thread ropes through harnesses they've just thrown on, and begin rappelling down the side of the Immortal, which has come to a halt. Within 30 seconds, they are on the ground, shooting at the Prowlers with magnetic guns.

I can't believe how quickly they operate, but I suppose they have to. Watching the towering Prowlers collapse to the ground in malfunction sends shivers through my bones, and I can almost feel the air thinning around me. Until Nathan joins me at the balcony, and I remember where I am.

"I was standing here when they found you," he tells me. "There was a buzz around you, even before we knew your name. You were the girl who disabled a droid, and told them about the other survivor. Your mom. They wouldn't have found her if you hadn't said anything. I was... jealous, I guess. Before you came, I was the incredible survivor. I was the hero. Now that you're here, I'm... not special."

Every now and then, a bit of sincerity sneaks out of Nathan's smug exterior, and I actually catch myself feeling bad for him. But he doesn't need sympathy right now. People like him need validation, and I don't need to kick him while he's down. "Sure you are," I say, but it doesn't sound as genuine as I'd hoped.

"You're right. Not as special then." I'm about to take it back, but a small smile creeps across his face.

"Jerk," I say under my breath, and we both laugh. Below us, an older couple of survivors are being carried into the ground level entrance of the Immortal. "But seriously, you helped to make the medicine my mom is taking. The medicine those people down there might need to take. You might save their lives."

"True."

"How do the pills work, anyway?"

"Well, there are two pills you have to take each day. The first pill is the fighter pill, it's basically an RNA virus we've designed to actually change the cancer cells. For the second pill, we combined stem cells with specific proteins to create a regenerative medicine that will heal the body. We just finished it, and it's a good thing too, because nearly all of us have suffered some radiation damage at one point or another. We're working on a pill now that everyone can take. One that's not so aggressive. We will all probably start taking them as soon as the test subjects are cleared of any significant side effects."

"What test subjects?" I ask.

"We used rats. Some died in our earlier trials, but none of them have had any negative side effects for a few strains now. We're just making sure it's perfect."

"Wait—you killed rats?"

"We have to test the medicine somehow. That's how you and Kunkle—sorry, Dr. Kunkle—will be testing your project too."

I feel like I am back home, arguing with Dad about my vegetarianism. My cheeks warm in frustration. "Why are rats any less valuable than us?"

"Really?" Nathan scoffs. "Because rats are rodents. They are incapable of the advanced thought—"

"—Rats are the most intelligent rodents," I correct him. "They are used in lab experiments because their brain is similar to ours. They dream and think metacognitively—"

"—Okay, okay." He smiles. "How can you be so kind to animals, and so mean to humans?"

"I'm not mean. I'm only mean to people who deserve it. I give everyone a fair chance. Humans get fewer chances, though. We did all of this," I say, looking out over the dusty and nearly forgotten neighborhood below us. Some Deathless scavengers have been looking through the homes for survivors and supplies, but they return with barely anything. "Animals have to fight to survive our mistakes. They don't deserve to be mistreated."

I don't look at him. Instead, I wait to hear his obnoxious hissing laugh, but it never comes. "Well, that answers my question from last night."

"What was your question?" I ask.

"I asked you who you were." He smiles. "I'm putting together the pieces. You're a very protective person, aren't you?"

"Not always. I let some of my family get away once. I am here so that that doesn't happen again."

"Me too," he says as the last of the Deathless search and rescue team returns to the Immortal.

"What?"

The Immortal engine rumbles awake and we begin to move again.

"My cousin. I let her get away. See, you may hate me, but we have some similarities. Not many, but they're there."

I smile and shake my head.

"Looks like I'm not such a bad guy after all, huh?" Nathan asks. I don't respond, so he starts talking in a high pitched voice, presumably in an effort to be me. "No, you're not so bad at all. In fact, you're the greatest hero I've ever met. Not at all ape-like," he finishes in his best girly voice.

I elbow him. "Stop," I say playfully, but it feels too comfortable, too casual. I straighten up and look away.

Nathan clears his throat and continues in his normal voice, "It's alright, Isla. We can both be the heroes of this war. We can share the glory."

"So you don't think it will end after the bunker attack?" I ask, though I know the answer.

"No way." Nathan looks around to make sure the leaders aren't within earshot. "Don't let them fool you. There will be a war. This attack will just be the first in a lot of back and forth between both sides. Like it or not, we're participating in this country's second civil war. The leaders will tell you otherwise, but that's only because they don't want to scare anyone away. They need us all to play our parts, and trust me: It will get to the point where we won't have an option."

I stare at him, my mouth open in speechlessness, though I'm not sure why I'm so surprised. In the back of my mind, I must have known that we couldn't just stop at an attack on the bunker. I know about war. I've read about it in books. I must have known this would continue.

"Not to scare you," Nathan says. "But, you deserve to know what's up. Fair chances, right?"

I nod, but how fair could a war be between the people who destroyed the world and a bunch of rebel scientists? I try not to think about it too much as we return to the bio lab or as I eat dinner with Mom and Declan, but I can't shake it from my mind.

Even as I lie awake in bed that night, I can't forget that everything we do is to prepare ourselves for this "war." Science is fun and meaningful, but fighting... I can't escape that that's our purpose. And it's not just about my family anymore. It's about our species' continuation.

Someone knocks at the door, and I'm jolted into focus. It's after hours. No one should be awake, much less roaming the halls to knock on peoples' doors. Still, I leap from my bed, welcoming the distraction, but when I open the door, I'm surprised to see Nathan standing there.

What does he want in the middle of the night?