I'm a clone.

Maybe.

I might be fake.

If I am, someone needs to kill me.

If they don't, there will be two Joan's.

But then my mentality will always stay in this body, so what personality will the other one have?

If she even wakes up.

If she doesn't wake up, she'll die.

And then I might die, too.

Then there's not even one Joan left.

Someone needs to kill me.

Her mind is spinning as they walk through the hallways. She does her best to shoot at all the people they fight against, but she's so confused and shocked and panicked— it's not nothing finding out you might be locked inside a clone of yourself, and that you thought you had some development and changed, but it was actually just a whole new personality someone gave you, like an injection.

They suddenly come to a stop. She almost bumps into Thomas, who is looking straight ahead at something.

Someone.

Luckily not another tank. But a real, standing person. One who's breathing. Breathing heavily, in fact.

Was that the glass she just heard shatter behind her?

She wasn't paying attention. She has no idea.

"Minho," Thomas breathes. Then he rushes forward, arms wrapping around the boy with such force that they nearly fall over.

He'll be hugging a clone— shut up. She ends up hugging the boy, too. There is happiness that sweep her thoughts away for a while, but not everything. Too much is going on.

"Oh, fuck!" Camil points at the end of the hallway. Janson is rushing closer, enough guards to kill them all behind him. "Come on!"

They slide into another room as fast as they can. All she can hope is that they can escape, survive, and not find any other water tanks.

"Good to see you again, Greenette." Minho hush her another time, then looks around. His first intention was probably to just look around the room, but then he sees Gally, and his eyes wide. "This can't be real."

"It is."

"Pinch me."

Camil obeys. Probably harder than Minho wanted him to, because he yelps and jumps away.

"Okay, definitely not fake!" He looks up and down at Gally— "Ohmygodisthatjoan? How—" he looks at the standing one, and back at Gally. "Holyfuckingshit."

"We'll explain later," Thomas says. "But this is a dead end. And Janson is boring the freaking door open."

From one heart attack to the other. Great.

They gather around the window. Look down, then at the walls of the room, and all the equipment. "Any ideas?" Asks Minho.

Thomas bites his lip. "Maybe."

A few seconds later, they've broken the window. The object they used rushes down, all the way into a pool that's who knows how many feet below them.

If that pool hadn't been there, they probably would've all died. Damn.

"You sure this is gonna work?" Camil mutters nervously. "Just a reminder, but I've sat in a wheelchair that's half of Gally's height for my whole life, and now I'm as tall as him. This is the highest I've ever been in my whole life and—"

"Not the time, Camil."

At his words, though, she turns around. "Oh wow. You're actually as tall as Gally."

"You're actually really small now I look at you."

"Stop."

"It's the truth."

"From now on, no one comments on my height. You know how fucking stupid it sounds that I'm a small girl who kills? Very stupid, because even the world 'small girl' icks me."

They hold up their hands. "We got it."

"Good. Lower the hands already."

Camil and Gally share a glance. Camil snorts. "Why don't you do it for me?"

"I'm really close to killing you, too."

"Can you even reach my heart?"

"Guys!" Thomas peeps, panicked. "Come on. We've got to hurry."

"This isn't gonna work."

"It will." A pause. "...I hope."

"Nice peptalk," Minho mumbles.

There's a loud crash. The door slams open, they get triggered by the face of a rat, yelp, and jump down before thinking they might die because of this after all.

"OH SHIT!"
"THOMAS!"

Yells like that get taken away by the air rushing beside them. Her stomach is doing flips as she gets closer and closer to the water.

Once she hits it, darkness surrounds her. The extreme high fall made her end up deeper in the liquid than she wanted to, and it takes a lot of energy to swim up. She gasps for air by the time she has made it. The girl looks up.

Janson is standing all the way back up, furious. As everyone swims away, Thomas holds up his middle finger.

"I think I like you again," she decides.

"And I think you're bipolar."

"Don't joke about mental illnesses."

"As if you haven't done that before."

"Shut up."

"No."

"Yes."

"You shut up."

"I told your first—"

Teresa sighs. "Guys, come on. Let's just get the hell out of here before Lawrence arrives and something goes wrong."

They all agree to that, even though Joan scowls at Thomas and he scowls back, and they start walking.

"Newt?" Gally calls. "Where are you, Brenda, and Fry?"

"Right beside the city," replies the British voice. "We got the kids out. Brenda almost bloody crashed that bus, but she did it. We're waiting for you with Jorge. And guess what, Jorge brought a stray."

"-I heard that!"

"Oh, shut up, Vince." Newt manages a chuckle.

Well, that confirms he's been cured.

"The tunnels are a few blocks away," Gally says. "We'll be there as soon as possible. And after that, we've got some serious shit to figure out."

"Okay. Help Camil push the chair so—"

"Don't worry about his wheelchair," Teresa interrupts, nearly grinning. "He really got it under control."

Camil catches up with them so he can talk into the walkie. "Yeah, Newt! Did you know I'm six foot two?"

"What—"

But Gally disconnects them before more confusion breaks out. "Come on. Keep walking. Joan, or... whatever this... whoever this is," he looks down at the girl in his arms, "she's freezing."

Thud.

"Tom!" Teresa gasps, pressing a hand to her mouth.

Innocently, he looks at her. "What? She did it to me first! I just didn't fall."

With a groan, Joan gets off the ground. "You're dead. Absolutely fucking dead."

"What did he—"

"He kicked the back of my knees!" She yelps. "I hate you."

"See? Bipolar."

"Guys, it's not the time to mess around—"

"He broke my ankle, now he tries to break it again."

"Technically it was your shoe what broke your ankle, so— ow!"

"Guys," Camil takes their arms. "Come on. Do this somewhere else, please. Ain't got no time."