After the shock has worn off, we get to work. Using the battery from the van, we're able to get the winch operational, which lowers the ship into the water. Having been under a roof for all these years has kept both the hull and sails in good shape, and although its probably the oddest mode of transportation we could have found, it turns out to be the most reliable.

There's nothing we can do about being seen, so we hope that the rain is keeping anyone who'd mean us harm away long enough for us to get across the inlet unnoticed. Yet even though the wind cooperates, it takes us a while to figure out how to both properly set and maintain course on such an unfamiliar vessel.

"And you call yourselves sailors," Dad chides when his rigging suggestion ultimately pans out instead of my and my sister's.

"Sorry for being born half a millennium after Sir Francis Drake," I mutter, recalling my maritime history lessons. I don't want to also point out how much practice piloting a Skipper takes, so afterwards I keep my mouth shut.

Finally setting foot on the island in the shadows of the twin cooling towers rekindles our excitement for the mission. Although the initial destruction of the bridges stopped the influx of cars, it didn't completely keep out unwanted visitors. There's evidence of attempted break-ins everywhere and we don't encounter a fence, wall, or door that hasn't already been opened—usually by force.

"How could you be sure that the nuclear material was left behind at all," I say as I climb through the third layer of the perimeter. "If I was in charge back then, that would be the first thing I'd take so it wouldn't fall into the wrong hands."

I'm expecting either Nelly or Jed to answer, seeing as they're the ones who are familiar with O-Town's intel and strategy. But instead, it's Dad who stops to explain.

"And you'd be right to do that, Will," he says. "The American military cleared all of the active plutonium from the cores in every single reactor in the name of national security."

"How do you know that?" Jed asks, looking suspicious of my father's certainty, and for what it's worth, I kind of agree.

Dad clears his throat. "I know because of the Vanguard project. Each lead engineer was briefed on the full evacuation plan. The shutdown of nuclear reactors was the last step before Vanguard was deployed. Afterward, most of the state fell into darkness. It was the beginning of the end."

"If you knew, then Dad knew, too," Nelly says. "So then why would he even suggest coming here, if there's no plutonium?"

Dad smiles. "There's none in the reactor, that's true. But there was no time or resources to get rid of the spent materials."

"Nuclear waste, you mean?" Ellen asks, also joining the conversation.

"Technically, yes. But it's only considered waste because it had become depleted past the point that it became inefficient here. It's perfectly suitable for our needs," Dad says.

"Cool. So where's this storage place?" asks Jed, anxiously hopping from foot to foot. Maybe he should have taken that 'vitamin'.

"It doesn't matter since Darren won't be there," Dad says, continuing to walk and wave him off.

"How can you know?" Nelly asks and I have to admire her restraint. Her dad's been missing for days*, we're likely just a few hundred feet away from where he might be, and she's not running ahead screaming for him. I'm not sure I'd be as composed if the situation was reversed. But then again, she's dealt with a lot more shit up here than I can even imagine.

"I can't be positive, that's true," Dad says, stepping over a pile of rubble that at one point may have been part of an exterior wall. "But he had to send that radio signal and there's only one place I can think of that could have come from. And if I were him, I would have stayed there until I was found."

Nelly shrugs. "Makes sense. Lead the way?"

We follow Dad through a courtyard that goes to a three-story building nestled between the two cooling towers. The glass in the entry door was long shattered and there's signs that water from the inlet has previously risen to this point. At least it's dry now and we hurry past a reception area before venturing further inside.

After navigating a maze of windowless hallways, we come to a door marked 'Control Room.' On first try, it seems to be locked.

"Here, let me," Jed says after Dad unsuccessfully jiggles the handle with no results.

Dad steps aside and Jed slams his shoulder against the door in an attempt to break it down. It doesn't budge.

"You okay?" asks Nelly as her boyfriend sheepishly rubs his upper arm.

"I'm fine," he grumbles, pushing her hand away.

She makes a face. "Be that way. I was just trying to be polite. What kind of dumbass thinks he can forcefully open the most critical room in this place? Even if the electronic locks are disabled, there have to be deadbolts—"

"Nels, is that you?" interrupts a voice from the other side of the door.

Nelly gasps and presses her ear to the metal door. "Dad? Oh my word! Are you really there?"

There's a brief pause before laughter fills the silence. "Yes! Yes, it's me. Give me a minute and I'll let you in," he says.

We hear the scraping of metal against the floor and other clanking sounds before the click of a lock and the slide of a bolt. Then, the door opens. In the eerie greenish glow from some type of equipment that must be running on auxiliary power, we see the shape of an adult man slowly emerge.

With average height and build, he bears a striking resemblance to my dad. The biggest difference is that instead of having smooth, pale skin and sandy blonde hair, the man emerging from the control room has a weathered face and salt and pepper hair. Life on the surface has left its mark, and as Darren Scott embraces his daughter, my guilt at being an indirect accomplice in his family's fate intensifies.

"I'm so happy to see you," Nelly gushes between sobs as they hug. "What happened? Are you okay? Where are the others?"

Her father lets her go and looks at the rest of us. "It's good to see you, too. I knew you'd come. Although I don't think I know all of your friends," he says answering only in part while eyeing us suspiciously. Then suddenly, his gaze stalls on Dad and his expression falls. "No. It can't be. Chris?"

"Hello, Darren," says Dad solemnly, stepping forward.

I feel dumb for not anticipating how this reunion would go, but in my wildest dreams I don't think I would have expected it to not include some yelling, blame throwing and even a few punches.

But none of that happens. Instead, Darren Scott hobbles away from the door and pulls my father into an even bigger bear hug than the one he gave his daughter.

"I . . . I," Dad mutters, but he's unable to continue as sobs choke back his words.

"I know," Dr. Scott replies before Nelly taps him on the shoulder.

"Are you hurt?" she asks, looking down at his leg that he was obviously not putting pressure on.

The two men let each other go and he nods. "My ankle is busted up pretty bad. It's why I couldn't make it back home on my own and why I decided to call for help, instead," he says.

"There were three of you on this mission," says Ellen from beside me.

Dr. Scott looks at her. "That's right. There were, but I'm the only one left," he says before glancing at Dad. "The similarity in her straightforward attitude is uncanny, Chris. This must be your daughter, correct?"

"Ellen, yes," Dad says. "And that's her twin–"

"Hi. I'm Will . . .," I almost add Scott as I extend my arm for a handshake before remembering that's no longer my name. Jacobson is too weird to use just yet, so I stop there. "Just Will."

Dr. Scott nods. "I know. I know about everything that has happened on Vanguard ever since –"

"Christiansen kept you informed?" Dad asks, this time interrupting him.

"And Lamer after her. That's right," Scott says. "Just like Bradford and his predecessors did for all of you."

I'm finding all of these revelations to be fascinating, but the fact that we're taking up precious time when we have none to spare doesn't get lost on me.

"Speaking of the governor," I say, as all eyes return to me. "He gave us three days for this trip and we've used two of them already. So if we could just grab that spent plutonium--"

"It's gone."

Those two words out of Dr. Scott's mouth make the rest of us all freeze. The nuclear fuel that we came here for, that we need to save the last of humanity as we know it, and that was our last hope is simply gone? While this was always a possibility, judging by our collective reaction, none of us really wanted to consider it. Until now.

"What? How?" asks Dad when he's the first to recover from the revelation.

Dr. Scott leans on his daughter's shoulder for support; the ankle clearly giving him more trouble than he admits.

"Long story short: we had been tailed--"

"Rovers?" Jed interrupts before he really even begins and Dr. Scott nods.

"Yes, rovers," he says. "And honestly, I'm just assuming that they had followed us here because as soon as my guys and I entered the containment level, they busted in after us."

"They must have known about the fuel, but had no way of getting in," Dad says, once again a step ahead of most of us in his logic. "Unlike you."

Jed becomes agitated, looking both ways down the hallway. "Could they still be here? he asks, unholstering his weapon.

But Dr. Scott waves him off. "No, that was five or six days ago now. It was a little tough to tell the exact passage of time from in there," he says with a weary chuckle as he thumbs at the room behind him. "As soon as they got what they wanted, they got out of here."

"Which is what we should be doing right now," Nelly says, patting her father on the chest. "Will's right about having a tight timeline and our ride isn't what you'd call conventional."

*Author's note: In this chapter, I've changed the amount of time that Nelly's dad has been missing from six weeks to one (6 didn't make sense for a lot of reasons!) but I need to go back to earlier chapters and make retro edits. Sorry for any confusion.