Mom wakes me up late the next morning, just in time to grab a quick meal before our first virtual training.

"You don't have to kill the President, you know. I remember what happened with the rabbit, and I know how you feel about killing." She pauses. "I'm worried about this plan. I don't like it, but they're not going to change it unless you make them. You stand up for other people all the time, Isla. You're allowed to stand up for yourself every now and then too."

"It's okay," I tell her. I need to go to the bunker to find Daniel and our family. This is the only way. "I want to do it."

She gives me a concerned look. "Please don't lie to yourself. No amount of regret can undo killing," she says. "Are you sure you want to do this? I can go to the bunker alone. I'll make sure to find Daniel and your dad and Eleanor and Ben. You don't have to go."

I remember what Dad told me after I shot the rabbit. One day you will have to kill something, and if you're too weak to go through with it, you'll die.

I shake my head. I do have to go. I have to prove that I can be strong, even if I'm just proving it to myself. "I'm going. Like Phoebe said, I'm the best one for the job."

***

The nine of us who will be leading the Deathless into the bunker reconvene in the mechanics sector's tech lab, where Declan is waiting to hook all of us into Mitchell's computer program. It's the first time I've seen where Mom works, and I feel a little guilty for not visiting her earlier. Their lab is much different than the biology lab, and reflects Phoebe's personality perfectly: no nonsense, straight to the point, and cold.

A young intern boy with tan skin greets us as we enter the lab, handing us all a cup of water before we begin. Declan sits in front of a large control panel at the center of the tech lab room, which branches off from the main lab, much like Dr. Patel and Nate's lab does in ours. This room is a little more colorful, with red, green, and blue writing—computer codes probably—scribbled on whiteboards plastered to the walls.

Bags underline Declan's eyes. He's been up all night, probably trying to learn all the nuances of Mitchell's program and deal with what happened to Misty, and I thank him on my way into the room. It makes me sad that no one else does, especially since Declan isn't a computer guy, and is probably a nervous wreck beneath his exhausted exterior. He cocks his head and says, "Sure," like it's a question.

Around him is a circle of nine seats, each of which is connected to its own computer. I can only assume they are all connected to Declan's control panel, because he presses a button in front of him and all the monitors turn on.

"It's like we're in The Matrix," Phoebe jokes, and everyone who was frozen in the bunker giggles.

"What's The Matrix?" I ask.

"Oh you wouldn't get it. It was a popular movie before the world ended."

I look around the room at the scientists' faces, smiling as they recall memories of a time before war and frost, and they look at me like I've missed out on some great joke, including Nate, who immediately shifts to a serious expression when our eyes meet.

"Alright everyone," Mitchell says from the center of the room, and we all move silently around him. "With Dr. Kunkle's help, we will all be plugged into the program. At first, it will appear to be a blank interface, but once everyone has been added, the scenery will fill itself in. We will begin in the town just outside of where the bunker is, but Dr. Clark, Dr. Fowler, and Dr. Ovis have requested that we also run through the layout of the bunker. This will include the President's quarters so that Isla can learn how to get to him," Mitchell explains, and my stomach turns.

"I will help Dr. Kunkle get us set up, and then we will begin," Mitchell says. "Please take a seat."

We slip into the chairs, and I make sure I'm in the one beside my mom. Declan and Mitchell walk around the circle, hooking all of us into the program. When Mitchell makes his way to me, he places the headset around my cranium, hooking some wires to my forehead, like he did yesterday, and then he straps me into the chair. He pushes the visor screen down over my eyes, and rests headphones over my ears.

"When you are in the program, your physical body may react to what you're experiencing there," he says to the whole group, "so we need to restrain you as a precaution. If you should be wounded in the program, you will experience the pain as it would feel in reality, but I assure you, as soon as the program has ended, you won't feel it anymore. If you are killed in the program, you will wake up immediately, unharmed. Please just be patient if this happens. Dr. Kunkle will not be able to reenter you into the program until we begin a new mission," Mitchell explains as he makes his way to the final open chair.

Declan straps him into his chair before moving back to the control panel, where he turns a knob that makes the whole room buzz with power.

"Remember," Mitchell says to Declan. "If you can't figure something out, my intern Julian will be able to help you."

"I got it," Declan replies.

"Okay, good." Mitchell looks around the circle at the rest of us. "Are there any questions?" he asks over the computers' hum.

No one says a word. I look across the circle at Nate. He smiles at me, but it's not his usual cocky grin. He's nervous.

"Alright, let's get started," Declan says, walking away from the control panel.

He makes his way around the circle once more to flip a switch at each of our computers, starting with Mom and ending with me. Within moments, each person closes their eyes and relaxes their face as the visors darken with the images.

"What does that switch do?" I ask as he reaches for mine and flips it on.

"It stimulates the areas of the brain that are connected to the program, thereby allowing you to interact with the computer to human interface."

"You can talk to me like a human being," I say.

"I'm sorry, Isla," he replies. "It's an experiment. I have to behave professionally."

My visor is already darkening, and my eyelids feel unbearably heavy.

"Declan... I'm sorry you're not here...," is all I have the energy to say.

"I know," I hear him respond as my eyes fall shut.

I know that if I just open my eyes, I can tell him not to worry, that he's still important to the mission; but when I finally do, I am standing in a completely white place, with only a faint checkerboard pattern to break up the emptiness.

"Took you long enough."

I turn around and see that everyone is already there: Phoebe, Winston, Alexander, Gabriela, Mitchell, Dr. Patel, Nate, Mom, and now me.

"Welcome to the program," Mitchell says.

Almost immediately after the words leave his mouth, the checkerboard pattern fills in with colors, until we are suddenly standing in an overgrown forest. It reminds me of home.

"Okay, he's started the mission. We are now standing a few kilometers away from the bunker, in a small town in old Virginia. When we get there, the soldiers are programmed to respond to any cues that we give, so we must be very cautious, just as we would be in reality," Mitchell reminds us.

"Right, then let's go over the plan and split into our teams," Winston begins. "Gabriela, you will set up the explosives around the west side of the woods to distract them, and Mitchell will cover her. Nate and Rumi, you two will go around to the back of the bunker and set up the explosives there. Then you will seal off the secondary exit. The rest of us will stay at the front of the bunker to lead the Deathless in the attack. First we'll disperse the knock out compound in gas form, and then we will open fire."

"What do you mean?" I ask. "I thought the point of creating the knock out compound was so that we could tell them to surrender with no casualties."

"And then what, Isla?" Phoebe huffs. "We bring them back to the Immortal or to the refugee camp and they all just decide to join our side? We all get along? That's not going to happen. It's kill or be killed."

Alexander approaches me and grabs me by the arm. It feels so real, like he's actually pulling me toward him, squeezing the blood from my veins beneath his grip. "You'll do as you're told. This is war," he says.

"Good, Alexander. Keep an eye on her," Phoebe says, practically spitting the words out at me. She probably regrets giving me such a crucial role in the plan. I wouldn't be surprised if they changed their minds after today.

"That's odd... the weapons should have been waiting here for us," Mitchell says to himself.

Then, almost as if by magic, nine weapons appear on a log before us, and we all grab one. I pick up a silver hand gun, and move it from side to side with ease, surprised at how light it is. It's unlike the ordinary weapons we had at the house. Mom must have helped to create these.

"Wait, I've got something special for you," Mom tells me once the others are looking away. She snaps her fingers, and then—again as if by magic—my gun transforms into a silver slingshot in my hand. "Declan and I programmed this last night," she says.

The new slingshot is more advanced than the simple two pronged one I used back home. It's made completely of some sort of heavy plastic, with an armrest protruding out from the bottom of the prong to help me keep my shots steady. In the armrest is a hollowed out barrel filled with small, metal balls.

"The bullets are small, but the barrel charges them with electricity. That way, when they hit your target, they will emit a pulse strong enough to temporarily knock someone unconscious." She checks to make sure Phoebe isn't listening, and continues, "That way, you don't actually have to kill anyone else but the President."

I don't say anything, I just rush into her arms. My hero, the woman who has always protected me, is still defending my beliefs like she always did. In her arms, I realize how ridiculously lost I'd be without her.

I can't forget my other protector. I look up into the virtual sky and thank Declan.

Mom pulls me away from her and smiles. "C'mon, we have to keep up," she says.

I follow her, testing the pull of my new slingshot. It brings me home: I'm reminded of standing in the fields outside of the house, feeling the air pass through my hair. I remember Dad's embrace and Daniel's smile, and I remember why I'm here in the first place: We are trying to put the pieces of our world back together, and my destiny is to lay the first brick. That makes me Deathless.

"From here out, we are moving silently," Winston says, motioning for us to follow him through the brush. We form a line, and I follow behind Phoebe, a charged bullet loaded in my slingshot just in case.

The farther we walk, the thinner the brush becomes, and I begin to notice that we aren't walking on dirt anymore. Beneath us is what's left of a concrete road that has since been torn apart by roots and vines, like Route 30 was back home. In the end, nature always restores itself. As we continue, more concrete becomes visible beneath us, and fewer vines creep over the windowless concrete and brick buildings. People must have lived and worked in here at one point, otherwise they would look more overgrown; but now they are just the empty relics of a world that has collapsed on itself.

Someone behind me steps on a twig, whose snap reverberates between the abandoned buildings, and Winston turns to silently reprimand the culprit. Then I hear it: the familiar shrieking of metal and gears. The Prowlers are here.

Winston points to the nearest building on our right, a concrete storefront that time has hollowed out. We run inside and hide behind the crumbling counters in the store. The only noise to be heard is the screeching of the Prowler's legs as it searches the street.

I peer out from behind the counter. Through the empty windows, I can see its massive legs and feet stomping outside the store. The dust and debris jump with every step the Prowler takes. I forgot that they would be here, that we would need to fight them again; but this time I'm prepared, and it isn't fear that pulses through my blood. It's excitement. Even if it's a machine, I still want my revenge. I want to shut them all down.

I look across the store and see Nate looking at me from behind another. He doesn't smile at me, and I don't smile at him. There is something else in his face: worry. We keep our eyes on each other, but this time neither of us are ashamed of staring. It's okay to be afraid.

The sound of the Prowler diminishes until we can no longer hear it, and Winston leaps to his feet and motions for us to follow. We must be nearing the bunker if there are Prowlers patrolling.

We creep through the rest of the town, careful not to attract any more Prowlers, until we reach a pathway into more woods.

Winston motions for us to follow him as he leads us down the path and back into the brush. I turn back once to check on Mom. She smiles at me, her face vivid with excitement and her eyes as green as the leaves around us. She is beautiful. A terrifying thought pops into my head: What if something terrible happens to her? All this time I've been worried about what will happen to me in this war, but I never realized something could happen to her. I never want to hear her screams or see her in pain again.

I begin to panic, and I wish I could escape this program now. But the only way to escape is death, and as much as I don't want to do this, I need to show them I can handle going to the bunker. I need to go.

We continue through the forested area, and ahead of us, I can see an opening. That must be where the bunker is, which means soldiers could be anywhere. I'm so nervous, I can feel my heartbeat in my ears.

We follow Winston into a densely covered area, and lie beside him on the ground. Through the brush, I can see the bunker at the center of an expansive, flat yard. The entrance is a set of huge cement doors in the side of a hill. From the looks of it, they are tall enough for Prowlers to enter. To the west of the bunker is a long road. It looks like a runway, and I think it must be for the spacecraft's return.

Winston motions for Gabriela, Mitchell, Nate, and Dr. Patel to get into position. Gabriela and Mitchell spring up first and follow the tree line down to the right of us, closest to the runway. Nate and Dr. Patel leave in the other direction, following the tree line around to a different location further down the field, where there must be another entrance.

We watch as soldiers patrol the yard. Many look older than my mom, with wrinkles lining their faces, and patches of gray or white hair spotting their heads; however, some look like they could be my age, which makes no sense to me. If these soldiers are all from before the blast, there shouldn't be any my age. Where are these soldiers coming from? Is this where all the Nomads have gone? Or are they all collected survivors like Dad, Eleanor, Ben, and Daniel?

I try to stop myself from imagining that my family could be among them.

Just then an explosion sounds from the right, nearly shaking me from my skin. Gabriela has successfully blown up half the forest, and fire and splinters fly into the crowd. The soldiers quickly lift their guns and turn toward the explosion.

A small metallic cylinder flies through the air and lands in the center of the yard: the knock out gas. I hear an explosion in the distance, and know that Nate and Dr. Patel must have reached the back entrance. Everything is going according to plan.

The cylinder opens and releases a thick smoke into the yard. The soldiers begin coughing and shooting aimlessly into the fog.

"Put on your gas masks," Winston orders, and I'm suddenly aware of the mask hanging from my neck.

I stretch the mask over my face until nearly all I can hear is my heart pounding against the ground. My palms are so sweaty with anxiety that I'm afraid my slingshot may slip from my grasp, so I wipe them off on the side of my uniform.

Our attack is next.