2 days still until we leave for Virginia. 20 days until Roberts' crew lands. And Daniel is missing.

No note as to what he's doing or what he was thinking running away, but I try not to let my imagination get the best of me. I focus on Dad, who hurries to pack survival gear and food for the two of us in preparation for our trip. The two of us are Daniel's search and rescue team.

Dad plans to stay back with Eleanor, who is so panicked from realizing her son is missing that she's experiencing pelvic cramping. Dr. Guzman came with Julian to check on her, which Celia, of course, approved of, and they decided to move her onto the Immortal, just in case Dr. Guzman has to run tests.

"Isla," Mom calls from the lake. He's ready to go.

I hug Dad and Declan who have been hovering around me as if I might collapse at any moment. "I have to go. Will you two be alright while I'm gone?"

Declan nods, his arms crossed in front of him with worry. "Are you going to be alright?" he asks.

I nod, and Dad pulls me into his chest for one more hug. "Find Daniel and bring him home," he says.

I give them both kisses on the cheek before running to meet Mom by the lake. Earlier, Meg told us that Daniel took a pod claiming he had my permission. When we get back, I will need to establish protocol for borrowing pods with written permission only. Luckily, Daniel took one of pods that still contains a working tracker chip. Declan gave us a GPS tracking device to use to find Daniel, so with our supplies ready, we move quickly to our pod.

As we pass Meg, she apologizes again. I mean to tell her to relax, but I'm so busy freaking out inside, I forget to actually say it. Daniel is usually reliable. I would have believed him enough to let him go too.

Mom starts the pod with a turn of the key, and it silently awakens. "We'll get him," Mom says. "Don't worry."

I take a deep breath to loosen my muscles. "Okay. Let's go." She begins to drive the pod north, where the GPS shows Daniel is parked. A mile out from where the estate's ashes now lie. Again, I try not to let my imagination get the best of me.

While Mom drives, I count the white dashes on the road as they zoom beneath us. Mom has tried to initiate conversations a few times, but with everything on my mind, I could barely even process what she was saying. Around the Wyoming state line she gave up trying, and I started counting the lines in the road.

As the sky shifts from pink to violet, we approach a pine forest. The pod Daniel took is parked outside of the line of trees, door ajar, and no Daniel. Mom stops our pod beside Daniel's with a jerk.

"What do we do now?" I ask, my voice trembling.

She thinks for a moment, and then I hear a loud gong. Now I know why Daniel's here. I know exactly what he's doing: He's destroying the rest of his gamma ray detectors out here. Another gong sounds, and both Mom and I turn our heads to the woods.

"That explains it," Mom says. She must recognize the sound.

Gong.

"I think I can stop him again. Is it alright if you wait here, though? I need to talk to him alone."

She nods. "I'll be right here."

Gong.

Mom reaches into the back seat and retrieves something silver. She turns on the pod's overhead light for me to get a good look at it. It's the slingshot she and Declan made for me to use in the bunker attack. She straps it to my arm for me. "If you need to shoot him again, don't actually shoot him with the pellets provided. Use a stone again. The pellets are just in case."

Gong.

I smile. "Thanks Mom."

I open to door to start toward the sound of banging metal echoing from the other end of the forest when my mom stops me. "Isla," she says, "I've been where he is now. I've felt guilty about the deaths of innocent people. Go easy on him, he's probably in more pain than he's letting any of us see."

I nod. "I will."

I begin walking through the pines as fallen needles crunch beneath my boot soles. Beneath the canopy of needles, the forest is darker than is safe. I load a pellet into the sling just in case, and scan the forest floor as I walk. That's when I notice something odd. Off to my left, the forest appears to have been flattened, as if a large tank like the Immortal had come through here, only the tracks aren't as wide as the Immortal's would be. The Beast, I think. With charged ammunition in place and ready to fly, I follow the muddy imprint of Gunther's tank east, toward the gongs of metal.

As I continue forward, I hear angry cries punctuating the gongs. Pausing at the edge of the pines, I look out over a grassy meadow and lake, allowing my shoulders to release their tension. I found Daniel.

He is barely visible over the tall grass, but his hair reflects the dusk's strained light differently than the spears of green do. On the other side of the meadow is something I wasn't expecting to see: A long landing strip, stretching out from an empty hangar, only big enough for one plane. Beside the hangar, the Beast sits idly. I was right. The door at its base, the one through which I shoved all those knocked out people before the bunker exploded, has been left ajar. This must have been how Gunther escaped the estate.

When I take a step forward, my weight snaps a fallen branch beneath me. Daniel jumps up, his gun drawn, ready to fire, and I raise mine instinctually too, until I remember my ammo would stop his heart. Temporarily, but it would stop. I place the pellet back into its charger in the slingshot.

Daniel's puffy eyes widen as he tilts his head in confusion, and we both lower our weapons. "Isla?"

I push through the grass toward him, a gentle smile on my face. Remember what Mom said, I remind myself. Go easy on him. "I came to find you," I say.

Stacks of detectors surround him, and he still hasn't dropped the one in his hand. Wires hang from it like frayed threads, and one more detector still stands behind him though it tilts out of the ground. Wires spark beneath it, brightening the indigo hue over the field.

Daniel sniffs and wipes off any trance of tears on his sleeve. He turns his eyes down and asks, "Why?"

"Because you went missing," I say with a little more attitude than is probably necessary. Go easy on him. "And because we were all worried about you."

His fingers twitch. It seems like he may open up, but then he spins around to strike the last remaining detector. The hit is deafening from this close, and with a burst of white fire, the detector falls. He kicks it into the pile of previously disconnected machines, and throws the one in his hand onto the heap.

"You didn't need to come. I'm done now anyway." He retrieves the keys to his pod from his pocket and begins walking away from me. Heat collects within me, and I can't be gentle anymore. I grab him by the arm and yank him toward me.

"If you didn't want me to come, you should have left a note or told someone. Anything to make us think you weren't missing, because you were killing yourself or something."

Insensitive, I think. As soon as the words leave my mouth, I regret them, especially since Daniel appears more hurt than shocked.

"You thought I would—?"

"I don't know what I thought," I say. "A thousand things went through my mind when I realized you were gone." I know I should stop there, leave my thoughts open and neutral, but I can't. "You never talk to me anymore Daniel. Ever since we found out about your mom's baby, it's like you're shunning me or something."

"It's not just the baby—,"

"Then what is it?" I shout. Way to go easy on him, Isla, I think, but it's already out there. I've already lit the fuse. "You have to talk to me about what's going on."

"Fine!" He collects himself, but his puffy eyes redden. His voice cracks with sadness. "Maybe you were right to worry about me killing myself, because I really don't know what the point is anymore. If I can't be good—no, if I can't be the best—then I don't know what else there is for me. I'm the scientist responsible for all the death of those pilots, my mom is having a baby who will be the offspring of the love of my life and some other guy, and I couldn't save my dad or Nina." Tears pour down his cheeks. "So I thought I'd come out here and at least try to make something better, but I know it's too late. It doesn't matter anymore, because those people already died. So what else matters?"

"Me," I say defensively. "Us. Your future, and our future together."

He scoffs. "Do you really still want that? Because you seem to expect me to be the boy I was before the Prowlers took me. You've expected that from me since the estate, and I can't be that guy anymore. He's gone. If you want a future with me, it will be with this version of me, and in case you haven't noticed, this version is broken. If you're not okay with that, then walk away now—"

"—Daniel—"

"—because I can't keep feeling guilty for not being 'old Daniel' anymore. I already have enough weighing me down, I can't have your disappointment be another thing I feel bad about."

"I'm not walking away," I say, and to my surprise, he breaks down in tears. He falls to his knees beside the pile of detectors and cries. He really is broken.

Sympathy fills me with the gentleness I should have had this entire conversation, and I sit down in the muddy grass beside him, rubbing his back. Our game of soldiers is over—I've hit him too hard—and now I must play the nurse. Only this time I can't just press a leaf to him and say sorry. This time, I can really make this right.

"I don't want 'Old Daniel,'" I say. "But you're right—did you hear that?—I actually admitted you were right."

With his face in his hands, I can't see his smile, but I feel his chest open with a brief chuckle.

"You were right that I expected you to be 'Old Daniel.' I expected that from myself too. I really thought both of us could be our old selves again, but you're right. We can't be. We've both gone through too much since we were those kids. I'm trying to forge myself into a new Isla now, and I want to be with 'New Daniel.' He's broken, but so is 'New Isla.' They need each other to help put themselves back together." His crying starts to settle. "I'm sorry I yelled at you. I was a jerk just then."

"I'm sorry I left," he whispers between deep breaths. "I don't know when I'll learn to stop leaving your side. That's always when I get myself into trouble." He lifts his head and manages a smile.

"You'll figure it out one day," I reply. He wipes his face in his hands, but I'm still stuck on something he said. "Did you mean it when you said you didn't know what else matters?"

He starts to shake his head, but stops himself, replacing the gesture with a shrug instead. "Kind of," he says.

"I don't get it," I say. "Don't take that the wrong way, it's just... so much matters. We have our whole lives ahead of us."

"Yeah, but this isn't the life I wanted. It's not the life I pictured for us."

"I don't think anyone ever gets the life they pictured."

"Yeah, but this isn't the person I want to be either." He bites his lip. "Do you know why I always went hunting with our dads, even if it meant not spending time with you?"

"You liked hunting?"

"Not at first, I didn't. At first I hated it. Waiting for hours, still and quiet, and then maybe watching my dad or yours shoot something? That wasn't fun for me... until I shot my first animal. It was a groundhog, I remember. And my dad said something like 'you're a natural,' and your dad congratulated me. I liked that attention. I liked feeling like I was my best. So I practiced more, with a gun and the slingshots, until finally I was the best. Hunting trips that used to take us hours took only one or two with me, and every time, I was told how good I was. And it felt nice. Back home, I was the golden child. No offense."

I shake my head. "I knew this already, so no offense taken."

"I did everything right on purpose. I would always think about what would bring me the most praise, you know? I was so hungry for it, not because they didn't give it to me, but because of the way it made me feel. I felt in control when I was doing what was right. I was a good son, helpful and respectful. I was a good student. I was a good hunter. I was a good friend. And I would be good at surviving in this world, because everything was in my control. I could protect you and save you." Tears return to his eyes.

"You're still good," I say, placing my hand on his shoulder.

He ignores my comment, staring at the ends of my hair which he spins through his fingers. He continues, "I thought I could save everyone from the Prowlers, but I wasn't good enough to save my dad, and I thought my mom too. And when I got out of the Prowler, Nina was there." He allows his eyes to meet mine. "She had been taken too, though she was there from the Beast, with bandages wrapped around her arms, and she looked at me, I'll never forget, like somehow she and I had to escape. And I think deep down... I thought that if I could save Nina, in that moment, I could get the control back. I could be good again.

"I didn't see her again until the estate, so at the bunker, I focused on trying to protect you instead, and it snowballed out of control. I pulled you into all of this, I made the plans for the detectors, I even sort of befriended Gunther. But I liked the attention. Is that wrong?" He doesn't give me any time to answer, before he admits, "I even... I even liked being at the estate sometimes. I was the golden child again while I was there, and when I met Celia, I was a good friend to her. I thought I could save her, and I think she thought that too. I felt good again, I felt in control."

"I'm pretty sure Celia would tell you that you did save her," I say, but he keeps talking.

"Then Alex and Keith exploded right in front of us. That was a wake up call. I realized that I might die doing what I believed it, and I wasn't ready to die. I wanted to escape, remember?"

I nod.

"And after that conversation, I went to the meeting with Cooper and the other leaders. He told us about the Council's visit, but all I could think about was the way Nina looked at me back the bunker. How her face begged me to work with her so we could save ourselves. It was the first time in a long while I felt depressed, you know? I kept thinking: How could I have wanted to just abandon her and Celia?

"When we came back with the Deathless, I wanted to make up for all the wrong I'd done. I volunteered to be one of the first people to storm the estate, and I found you. You were implanted and you aimed your gun at me, and you know what I thought? For a brief moment, I thought maybe it would be for the best. Maybe it would have been payback for all the wrong I had caused. Luckily you snapped out of it, and so did I. Then Nina...."

I swallow hard and reach over to hold him.

"You were there with Nina, just in shock, Celia was in the center of the floor, and Mitchell was in the center of it all. I didn't know who to take care of first, so I tried to handle all three situations. But I shouldn't have left Nina. Maybe if she had kept the spear in place, our surgeons could have done something, worked some kind of magic. I'll never know. But... I wanted to help her escape. I wanted to kill Mitchell. In the end, I did neither. And Nina died."

He inhales deeply, and I move with his chest. I squeeze him more tightly. Daniel's voice cracks again as he continues, "I've always wanted to be the best, but now, I'm not the best anything. And I feel like I have no control anymore to change that. The baby my mom is carrying reminds me of that every day, and Nina's face in my nightmares reminds me of that every night."

He clears his throat as if to stop it from tightening. "I'm trying to feel better, I promise. Getting rid of these detectors was the first step, I think. I feel better knowing they don't work anymore. But I'm still struggling. I don't know what to do. Should I just say I have no control over anything and accept that this joke of a life is mine, and I've wasted it on seeking the approval of others?" He pauses. "You know what? You were right, actually."

"About what?"

"About everything. About living. I should have lived more like you," he says. "I should have done whatever was right for me, not what would give me the most praise. I would probably be okay now, instead of causing more problems."

"There are consequences with living like that too. I think no matter how we choose to live, there will always be consequences we didn't plan for, but you have to remember that when things are out of your control, you can't blame yourself. Sometimes bad things just happen, and you have to just get through it. You have to give yourself a fair chance at happiness."

He scoffs. "Easier said than done."

I pull myself from him. "What can I do to help you?" He shrugs. "Maybe I could let you know when you've done something good for me, so you're getting that recognition or something?"

He smiles, and I can't help but smiling back. He lights up the dusk. "No, Isla. That's okay. I feel like that would be a little forced." He laughs. "Just keep loving me. Keep talking to me, even if I don't say anything back. And if you can, don't yell at me."

"I won't."

He sighs, as if he was nervous about my response, and says, "Thanks. I'm sorry I didn't say anything to you about leaving. I shouldn't have worried you like that. Is my mom okay?"

What do I tell him? I decide on the truth. He'll find out anyway. "She was really freaked out. Dr. Guzman took her to the Immortal for testing, because she was feeling some pain around the baby."

His eyes widen in sadness. "Really?" I nod, and he lets his face fall back into his hands. "I'm terrible," he says.

"No, no you're not. You needed to do this. You were living like I do. Remember how you just said you wanted to do that? Well you did, so don't be upset."

He lifts his head. "Is she alright?"

"She was okay when I left. I'm sure she's fine. And the baby too, if you care."

He takes a moment to think about it. "My mom loves it already, and it's half of you, so I care about it too. I don't always show it, and maybe I won't until it's born, but... I'll be good to the baby, whatever my role in its life will be."

"Thank you," I say, and a thought pops into my head. "Listen... since we're both new versions of ourselves, we will need new firsts. You know, like how we had our first kisses?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, I think that's what we should focus on. Instead of thinking about the things that we've already done, the people we've already been, and the things that have already happened to us, I think we should focus on our firsts to come. New Isla and New Daniel, experiencing the world together."

He smiles. This one is genuine and without any hint of sadness. "Okay. So what's this? Our first... breakdown?" he asks, and we laugh a bit together. It feels like forever ago since we've laughed together.

"Really?" I ask.

"Hey, every couple has 'em. This is our first. It feels good to get it out of the way. Now we can focus on the good stuff ahead," he says, playfulness returning to his voice.

I reach up and thread my fingers through his hair before pulling our lips together. The taste of tears still lingers on his lips, and as I begin to part from him, he breathes into me, sending warm tingles through my body. Then, grabbing my face in his hands, he kisses me again. This time so deeply, so passionately, that it feels like our first kiss all over again. I'm weak all over, but he holds me so I can't fall apart.

In his arms, I can never be weak, and in my arms, he can never be anything less than the boy with sunshine in his eyes. The boy who brings light and warmth to everyone but himself. I kiss him back to somehow let him know how truly good he is.

So good.

But we can't get carried away, not with my mom just on the other side of the pines, so I pull away.

"My mom is on the other side of the forest by the pods," I say.

Daniel kisses my forehead. "We should go meet her." He stands up and helps to pull me up as well. "But before we do," he says, "I want to check out the Beast. See if there's anything we can scavenge, or if we can figure out how to drive it. It could be useful when we get to Virginia."

There's the old Daniel, I think, though I immediately reprimand myself. There's the new Daniel, still strategic, still resourceful.

"Speaking of which, remind me to tell you the new plans on our way home," I say as we approach the Beast. I take his hand, and then time he holds it tightly, like he never plans on letting me go. Like it's a knot between our souls, so we can be separated ever again.

But he does, eventually, drop my hand to grab his gun before we walk into the Beast. Just in case. And just in case, I arm my slingshot too. Then we hear a sound from behind the first floor door.

A growling.

Who else, or what else, is here?