The teenagers scream as the Blanks descend upon them. The blond kid reaches us first and throws himself on a girl. My weapon is out of my pocket in a flash, but he's faster than me. He's crushed her throat with his hands by the time I swing the blade down.

It sinks into his back. The Blank wheels around and struggles to reach the blade buried into his flesh. He stumbles around like a rabid animal, slamming into everyone near him. I've lost my weapon, but I've bought some kids enough time to scramble to a safer distance.

"Weasel, stop her!" Eli roars, and I know he means me.

Carson steps into my path. Against the backdrop of screaming teens, we square off. I barely recognize him like this. It's not just the blank eyes, the weirdly mechanical movements of his limbs. The biggest change is right there in his expression. Carson would never look at me like this. Like he's capable of killing me and not feel a shred of remorse.

He barrels into me with inhuman force and straddles my body. This isn't my friend anymore. This person is a killer, and I fight him with everything I've got. I punch and scratch him, trying to buck him off before he manages to strike me with his deadly hands.

It takes me a while to notice he's blocking my blows but he's not hitting back. When I take the risk of not fighting back, he stops restraining me altogether.

He knows me.

That's all the recognition I get from him. His blank gaze has already locked onto another target. My hand slips into my pocket when his weight lifts off me. I fumble for the silver case and jerk the cover off. Willow said the serum works to halt the progress of the illness, but Carson has shown signs of cognizance. He's in there somewhere behind these blank eyes.

He dashes to a girl crawling into a corner and grabs her hair. She screams, her legs kicking out when he lifts her in the air. He snaps her neck. Horror threatens to turn my legs into stone. Carson will never be able to live with this if he remembers it. I reach him before he can do any more harm and jab the needle into the side of his neck, shoving down the plunger.

He shrieks as if I've doused him in gasoline and lit him on fire. He dashes around blindly, scratching at his neck and alternating between cries and whimpers. Then he collapses on the floor and curls up in the fetal position.

"Forget the others!" Eli shouts. "Stop her!"

At Weasel's manipulation, the remaining male Blank turns from his bleeding victim and stalks toward me. The girl approaches from behind. They box me in between them, but just like Carson, they don't hurt me. They don't even touch me.

"Weasel, don't kill her," Eli says, calmer now. "Director Blaine wants her alive."

"Uh, about that. Remember when I tried to get one of these mutts to attack the rest of them and I couldn't? Like something was overriding my ability? It's happening again. They're choosing not to hurt her, man. I got no say in this."

I study the Blanks in bewilderment. Why would they not be attacking me? I get why Carson wouldn't hurt me. He recognized me. He knew I was his friend, not his enemy.

Didn't he?

"Well," Eli drawls, strutting over to me. "Someone's been keeping a dirty little secret."

"What secret?" Weasel asks.

Eli gives Weasel an annoyed look before he turns back to me. He studies me and chuckles. "You don't know? You really don't know?"

"Know what?"

"That she's blanking!" he roars. "Jesus, Weasel, stop with the interruptions or I'm going to decide you're not worth keeping around anymore."

Weasel flinches and retreats from him.

"I'm blanking?" I ask limply.

"When that Blank attacked us in the cafeteria," Eli says, "it went straight for you, but it didn't hurt you. I knew there was something about you. And now these mutts see you as a friend. You're becoming just like them. You've been changing all along."

I spin around to face Willow. "Is it true?" Tell me he's wrong.

"I don't know," she whispers, staring at me with big eyes.

Carson lets out a long moan, but he doesn't move from his spot. My legs threaten to give out. I'm going to become like him. I'll lose my mind and then I won't be able to distinguish between wrong and right, enemy and ally. The only existence I'll have is one of blood and pain.

I don't move quick enough to stop Eli. He presses something against my neck, and jolts of white-hot pain race down my spine. I slam into the ground. It feels like my chest and abdomen have folded into each other. I can't breathe. I can't do anything but twitch in agony.

Ages pass before the pressure against my neck lifts. The pain winds down, but I'm too limp to move. I gasp for air, the side of my face pressed against the cold and dusty floor.

"You're killing her, Eli!" Willow screams.

Eli swears. I become aware of scuffling noises near me and lift my head. He grabs her around the waist and jerks her against his body, holding her arms immobile.

"If you want my attention so badly," he says, his lips touching her earlobe, "all you have to do is ask. I'm always happy to see to your needs, Willy. You know that."

I expect her to fight him, but she goes stiff and silent. The little blood that remained in her face drains away. "Let me go, Eli."

He uses the stun gun to brush locks of hair over her shoulder. Willow closes her eyes and shudders. I make a move to rise, and he notices. He smiles.

"Weasel, have the mutts entertain Willow while I take care of this one. I want to know if she'll still be a smart bitch when she blanks."

I flip onto my back when he hunkers down beside me. There's no strength in my body. I won't be able to fight him if he attacks me again.

"Your friend over there," Eli begins, gesturing to Carson, "lasted a full minute before he turned. I wonder if it'll take you longer. If it does, it's going to be painful."

I spit in his face. "Go to hell."

"Suit yourself," he says and presses the stun gun to my neck.

It crackles as volts of electricity dart through me. Agony overloads my brain again. My mouth is open, but I don't know what sounds I make. I think I'm begging Eli to stop.

I didn't think the pain could get worse, but it does. It tears through my head in a shower of glass shards, and I hear myself scream. Eli's hulking shape blurs and swims before my eyes. A dense and inky-black curtain sweeps across my vision.

I black out—only to regain my cognizance what feels like two seconds later.

I've gone blind.

After several moments of rapid blinking, I see glimmers of light. As my brain struggles to boot up to speed, I pick up on three things. Firstly: the metallic taste in my mouth. The stinging cut on the inside of my lip tells me it's my blood. Secondly: the choked gasps for air, emerging from someone's throat in harsh and pained bursts.

Thirdly: my hands around that person's neck.

I see a familiar face before I leap back from Willow. She drags in a wheezing breath, followed by several quick spurts, her hand clutching her throat. There's nothing to describe the way I feel right now. The horror. My palms still have the imprint of her warm skin against them.

"Willow—" I gasp and cut off when I hear a moan behind me.

Eli drags himself up to his knees, cradling his head. I take in the shadowy room at large and inhale sharply. The Blanks are dead. Shot to death, judging by the blood pooling beneath their bodies. Weasel is also dead, but there's no blood anywhere around him. His neck is bent at an angle. I search frantically for Carson, but I can't find his body.

"W-what happened?" I ask, stumbling up. I was out for only a few seconds. How could everything have become so undone?

Behind me, Willow is still struggling to catch her breath. Sobs intersperse the jagged sound, and it tears at my soul to know that I did that to her. I asked what happened, but I already know. Eli answers me anyway, barking a laugh first.

"I've always wondered," he pants as he picks up a real gun from the floor, swaying a little, "what goes on inside a Blank's mind. But you don't even remember, do you? Well, let me tell you. First you went straight for Weasel and broke the little shit's neck. Guess what that meant? The mutts were free to do whatever the hell they wanted. So while I was dealing with them, you decided to take out Willow. Man, nothing says loyalty like choking your bestie to death, am I right?"

Willow's back is pressed against a wall. She's looking at me like I'm a monster. "I'm sorry," I choke out, even though I know no apology will make up for that.

Eli moves past me and hauls her to her feet. I notice he's carrying a different gun. A real one this time. "Fun time is over. Let's go. Both of you. We're going to Director Blaine."

"Alec," Willow gasps.

"He's dead. Forget him."

She shuts her eyes. I crouch next to his body. He's still breathing, unconscious and unaware of the massacre that occurred around him. "He's alive."

"Barely," Eli remarks. "He's not going to make it."

"We'll carry him," I say softly, trying not to antagonize him. "Willow and I."

"I don't think so."

"Eli, please," Willow begs hoarsely. "I know we've had our differences, but we were all friends, remember? You and Alec used to play together when we were kids. You used to share toys. He was your friend."

"We shared more than that," Eli says with a leer. "Does he know? No? That's cold, Willy. Almost as cold as the way you ignored me after that night."

She looks at me and averts her gaze. "It was a mistake."

I'm stunned. All this time I've been thinking Eli was stalking Willow because he wanted to hurt her. But she's been avoiding him is because she cheated with him. It doesn't make sense. It's so unlike her.

"I know you didn't make that call. What did Parker get in return? I mean, with Alec, I can see why he wanted you to wrap him around your finger. I bet he told you all kinds of nasty secrets about his father. But what about me? Why did he send you to me?"

"He didn't."

Eli grips her face between his thumb and fingers. I want to stop him, but his gun is pointed at her head. I hold my breath, expecting him to lose it, but he grins instead. "So what're you saying? You came into my dorm room that night because you had the hots for me? Maybe we should see what Alec has to say about that."

He turns to where Alec is slumped over and hollers, "Yo, Alec! Rise and shine, buddy! Willow has something to share with you. Alec!"

Willow seems to shrivel into herself with every taunt out of his mouth. "I'll tell you," she blurts out, her eyes filled with tears. "He gave me a syringe. He wanted me to use it on you."

"I didn't see any syringe."

"That's because I waited until you fell asleep. Then I used my power to make sure you wouldn't wake up. I thought you were already sleeping when I first went into your room, but you weren't. Sam instructed me to make sure you didn't get suspicious. I had to—to play along."

Eli laughs cruelly. "You just don't know how to say no, do you?"

She flinches, and all of a sudden I get it. This is how Sam screwed her up. Not just by keeping her locked underground all her life or torturing supernatural power out of her, but by asking her to do messed-up things like betraying her friends' secrets and sleeping with a guy while she's still in a relationship with another guy that he asked her to be with.

It's no wonder she thinks I had it easy.

"What was the syringe for?" Eli asks.

Willow drags in a shuddering, defeated breath. "To stop you from becoming a Mod."

The metamorphosis inhibitor serum. It takes all of two seconds for that to sink in. Eli's expression changes into one of uncharacteristic fury. He twists Willow's arm behind her until she cries out. "You did this to me?"

I take a step toward them. "Eli! You're hurting her."

"She deserves a whole of pain for what she's done," he growls, his dark eyes glimmering with anger. "All my life, I've been waiting for something that'll never happen. You and Parker must have had a good laugh every time I asked why I wasn't getting my power."

"She didn't do this to you. Sam did. I'm betting she injected you with something called an inhibitor. It's a drug he's been working on to stop us from transforming, and it doesn't work with one dose, Eli. He's probably been giving it to you all your life."

"So why did he send her that time?"

"Because that's who Sam is," I say, knowing my words cut Willow deeply. "He manipulates people into doing what he wants. Me, Willow, Marcus, even you."

"No one forced her to screw with me." He wraps his hand around Willow's throat and keeps the gun leveled at her temple. Finger on the trigger. He might be obsessed with her, but there's no doubt in my mind that he'd kill her in a heartbeat. "But that's who you've always been, huh, Willy? Sam's obedient little bitch."

"Says Blaine's bitch," Willow forces out.

She takes a raspy inhalation when his large hand tightens around her throat. Her hands fly up to pry his away, fingernails scratching at his arm. His mouth is twisted into a vicious snarl. I'm yelling at him to stop, scrambling to diffuse his violent temper without startling him into shooting her, when someone calls out:

"Let her go, Eli!"

The command is hoarse, depleted of strength, but it gets the job done. Eli freezes, buying Willow time to jerk his hand away from her throat. She falls to her knees and begins to suck in oxygen greedily. Alec is awake. He's also struggling to catch his breath, his face gray in the shadows and his hair slick with sweat. "Weren't you going to take them to Director Blaine?"

I've never heard him use that tone before. Like he's talking to a child. It takes Eli a moment to regain his confidence. "I was getting around to that eventually."

"My father doesn't have time for stupid games, Eli. You should know that by now. Or maybe you don't know the first thing about him."

"I know him way better than his own son," Eli says with a sneer.

"Yeah?" Alec lets out a small, derisive laugh. "Is that why you were going to leave me here to die? Because you think Director Blaine will give you credit for letting his only son die? You think he invested eighteen years into me just to watch you throw it away? My father doesn't hate me because I'm weak, Eli. He hates me because I refused him and everything he stands for. But he's never stopped hoping that I'll come around and continue his legacy."

"Sorry to break it to you, Junior, but he doesn't give a shit about you."

"You want to take that chance?"

Alec's taunting tone is quickly losing steam, but it's working. Eli doesn't look half as confident as he did a minute ago. With a laugh that barely masks his rage, he shoves Willow toward Alec and waves the gun at us. "You two carry him."

That's all the imperative Willow needs to dash over to Alec. She opens her mouth to talk to him, hope and fear coming alive on her face, but one look from Alec silences her.

"Don't. Touch. Me."

Willow recoils from the venom in his voice. He uses the wall to push himself to his feet. Seeing him almost crumple to the floor spurs me into action: I slip under his arm and use my strength to hold him up. I'm not sure how long I can hold out before I buckle under his weight, but I don't ask Willow for help. If he heard the exchange between Eli and Willow, I know he'd rather bleed to death than rely on her for anything.

Eli chuckles as he trails after us out of the building, his gun at his side like he doesn't think we're a threat to him anymore. "Trouble in paradise? And here I thought you two would live together to a ripe old age—or until your father runs out of patience and has her killed."

Alec doesn't respond. I glance back to see Willow duck her head. In the faint glow of twilight, I make out tears shimmering on her eyelashes and wonder if we will ever be free of Sam's shadow.

Alec loses strength as we walk along a broad and dusty road. I go down when his body finally gives, barely saving us both from a nasty tumble into a ditch. Without waiting for Eli's reaction, Willow rushes over and helps me pull him up. He's too delirious to notice she's helping him. She shoulders his weight like it's nothing. I know it's love that's pushing her beyond the limits of human capability, which makes the situation even more tragic.



In the shadowy distance, I make out a heavy chain-link fence and a line of cargo trucks and jeeps in front of several buildings. Two armed guards stop us, take one look at Eli, and slide open a gate to let us into a small compound. It clinks shut behind us as we follow a paved road toward the cluster of low buildings.

We reach the vehicles parked in front of a box-shaped structure with wide, shuttered windows and a faintly-lit sign that reads MAIN OFFICE. We wind around a cargo truck blocking our path, and that's when I hear the voices.

One of them is gruff and commanding. The other belongs to Marcus.

The kids who went with him are on their knees in the dirt. Some of them look up when we appear, but not one of them addresses us. Street lamps illuminate the guards around them. Only about six. They should have been able to take them.

Marcus is standing under a lamppost in front of the main office. Before him is a blond-haired man in the dark uniform of the guards, though I don't think he's an ordinary guard. He looks about forty, close to Sam's age. He's exceptionally tall, at least six-five, with a broad, weathered face and a strong jaw. His prominent widow's peak could be mistaken for an early sign of baldness, but it doesn't diminish his stature.

This has to be Jonathan Blaine.

Alec slips out of our hold and drops to the ground. Willow gets on her knees to turn him over, but I'm rooted where I stand. I didn't want to believe it, but there's no denying what I'm seeing. Marcus's body is wrapped with tension, but the gun in his hand rests at his side. He doesn't look like someone trying to escape. Did he ever plan to leave?

I don't move until Eli kicks me in the back of my knee. My leg jerks, and I drop down. "Told you I'd want you on your knees for a different reason," he says with a chuckle.

Marcus turns to face us when he hears Eli's words. He freezes a second and then takes a breath, his chest expanding slowly.

"Found these stragglers hiding in the woods," Eli says. "I know you didn't leave them behind on purpose, Marcus. You wouldn't be that stupid."

"Like I was just telling Director Blaine," Marcus says flatly. "I split the group up so they wouldn't give us a hard time."

Bastard, I think to myself, refusing to acknowledge the knife of pain buried in my chest.

"That's why Marcus is in charge and you're not, Eli," Blaine announces. He has a voice that reminds me of rocks pounding across gravel. Coarse and jarring, so unlike Sam's smooth baritone. "You don't think things through."

As Eli smiles deceptively, Blaine gestures forth a couple of guards and orders, "Take my son inside and see to his injury. Once this is over I'm going to need to know why he was shot in the first place. That's the kind of carelessness I don't stand for under my command."

The men sling their rifles across their backs and lift Alec from the ground. As they disappear into another building, I think about how this might be the last time I'll ever see him.

"Keep an eye on them," Blaine says before he follows them inside.

Willow takes a step after them, but the guard closest to her shifts his rifle her way. Sighing with frustration, she steps back next to me.

"Why are they still alive?" Eli asks, nodding to the gathering.

"Marcus returned them to us," a guard replies without taking his eyes off us. "Director Blaine is waiting for his cohorts to arrive before he decides what to do with them."

"All your talk about standing up for yourself," I say to Marcus. "You were lying, weren't you? You were planning to lead us to Blaine from the beginning."

It's not anger or disgust that makes it hard to look at him. It's the bone-deep ache that can only come from losing someone. Carson. Willow. And now Marcus. Sam told me to build my walls so thick I'd never be able to feel the touch of another human being. Never experience the flash of warmth in my belly when someone I care about smiles at me. I felt constricted by my walls. Suffocated. I never considered they also shielded me from the sting of betrayal.

"Well, of course, he did," Eli supplies. "He knows it'd be wrong to set you free into the world. Director Blaine taught us well. We're abominations, whether we like it or not. We don't belong out there with the rest of humankind."

"Shut your mouth, Eli."

Eli falls silent, but the grin on his face says it all. He's won this round.

"We've made it out alive," Marcus says. "No one's going to die anymore. Game over. We survived."

I want to cry and laugh at the same time. "Survived? Do you know what Eli did to those kids left behind in the facility? Do you?" Please tell me no. Tell me you had no part in it.

He slides a mechanism at the top of his gun and then pulls out the magazine, looking for all the world like he cares more about the stupid thing than he does about our fate. "They knew it was dangerous to stay behind. I can't be responsible for everyone."

"Who are you?" I ask in utter disbelief. How many awful things has he done that I don't know of? And how many things has he allowed Eli to get away with?

"Who am I?" Marcus repeats. He thrusts his arms out, his somber expression turning vicious. "I am who I've always been. I've been knee-deep in this shit way before you people showed up. I understand what's at stake if we leave this place."

"What will happen if we leave?" Rochelle asks from where she's kneeling, a tremor in her voice. Lisa is next to her, her small figure flickering in and out of my sight as though she can't maintain the illusion of invisibility.

"The end of the world as we know it," Blaine announces as he steps out of the building. "But never mind that. I'm afraid you children aren't going anywhere. I'm going to extend my protection to you, and you have Marcus to thank for that. But if you make any more attempts to escape, I promise you this: you will get nothing but a bullet in your back for your efforts."

His fierce eyes move over his audience as he speaks, pausing on each person in a way that makes the message personal and frightening. Where Sam is cold and inexpressive, Blaine's voice hints at a volatile personality capable of erupting at the slightest provocation. I don't know what he's capable of in a moment of rage, so I keep my mouth shut.

Not that it does me any good. Goose bumps break out across my body when his eyes focus on me. "Eli. Is that Sam's stepdaughter?"

"Yeah," Eli says, sounding frazzled. He clears his throat. "You might want to hear this, sir. She blanked before we got here, but just for a minute or so. Not sure how—"

"Why have you brought her to me?" Blaine asks.

Eli blinks. "Uh, because you asked me to—"

"I asked you to bring me Sam's stepdaughter, not a Blank. You know the protocol for handling these things."

"Wait!" Marcus shouts. "You can't kill her. How do you think Sam will feel when he gets here and finds out what you did? He'll turn Gardiner against you."

"Sam will try to do so regardless of what happens now. But if there's one thing he and I agree upon, it is that we don't tolerate Blanks. Do it, Eli."

Eli lifts his gun and points it at me, giving me a shrug when his determined eyes meet my frantic ones. "Nothing personal, brainy girl."

"Eli, don't," Marcus says. "I'm warning you."

My heart's pounding in my throat. Think, April. The gun is so close there's no way he'd miss, but it's also just far enough that he'd have time to react if I tried to make a pass for it.

You need to think on your feet.

Sam's words. Recollecting the countless commands he's given me over the years has always spurred me into action. He conditioned me to avoid failure at all cost. But nothing he's ever taught me can help me now that I'm seconds away from getting shot in the head.

"I'm done letting you tell me what to do, Marc," Eli erupts. "Look at you. A month ago you were strong and fearless, but now here you are, sticking up for a Blank. You're pitiful, man. Difference between us is that I'm still a soldier. I do what I'm asked to do."

He makes the mistake of looking at Marcus while he's talking. An opportunity. I leap up to my feet, grab the barrel of the gun with both hands, and shove it away from me. I expect the guards to pepper my body with bullets, but they don't move from their positions. They don't even point their weapons my way.

"Is that the best you can do, boy?" Blaine shouts.

An elbow catches me in the face. There's a crunching sound in my nose as pain explodes through it. Eli slips a foot behind mine before I can recover and slams me to the ground. I gasp for breath through my mouth and clutch my nose with both hands, trying to contain the blood spurting freely.

I hear his harsh breathing. When he inhales sharply, I tense in anticipation. He kicks me in the ribs, and my agony multiplies.

"Eli!" Marcus roars.

"Finish it," Blaine says impatiently.

Eli takes aims. He isn't just doing his job anymore. He looks furious, and I know he'll take pleasure in my death.

I'm waiting for my brains to be blown out when the air ripples with what looks like a silent, almost invisible bomb. It lifts Eli's body into the air and tosses him into the passenger door of the truck behind him. His head strikes the window, forming a web of cracks in the glass, before he drops face-down on the ground.