After a mad dash back to my cell, the boredom of my empty room is a relief. I peer through the food slot, but I can't see anything other than the empty white walls of the hallway. Even though I barely know her, I'm terrified that Lozen will end up hurt—or worse—because of her actions today.

My mind races through the puzzle pieces that have dropped in my lap. Lozen mentioned that nine of us need to escape. I only know of Lozen, Addie, Mikao, Ciara and myself who are trapped down here. That leaves four others who must be locked away in Strand's secret prison.

I'm used to being the one with the wild ideas, making dangerous choices to do what I think is right. Following Lozen's lead, trusting her intentions and instincts, goes against my natural wiring. It's maddening to have Addie's fate, as well as my own, in someone else's hands.

Now would be a fantastic time to have a vision of my own, but my exhaustion presses against the door in my mind where my visions live, and all I can see are brief glimpses into a potential future.

Men and women in suits sitting at a large, circular table, yelling at each other.

The surprised face of a Dean right before Ciara punches him in the jaw.

Lozen's shiv, slippery with blood, in my hand.

Tears sliding down Harriet's cheeks.

I strain my mind, trying to see more, but nothing comes. My ability is a shadow next to Lozen's, a weak imitation that frustrates me more than it helps. I try to make sense of what I've seen, turning the possibilities over and over in my mind, until exhaustion claims me.

***

I'm woken when a Dean enters my cell—not the one Lozen attacked, because this guard doesn't have any wounds.

"Get up and follow me," he says, and then turns without looking to see if I follow.

We walk down the hallway, and the blood from Lozen's fight with the guard yesterday is gone. The Dean opens a door to an empty tiled room with a drain in the middle.

Before I can ask him what I'm here for, he turns to the wall and pulls out a hose with a metal nozzle.

"What the hell—"

The rest of my words are drowned out as I'm drenched with a cold blast of water. I slip and fall, curling into a ball to shield myself from the force of the spray.

"Stand up," the Dean commands. "We'll be here until you comply."

I force myself to stand, shuddering with cold.

"Turn."

I follow his order, wanting to shrink into myself as every part of me is drenched. The water finally stops, and the Dean hands me a towel and a dry jumpsuit.

"Change."

I want to insist on my right for privacy, but I know that down here I have no rights. Instead, I turn my back on the guard and peel off my wet clothes. I dry and dress as quickly as I can.

"McChild, get in here. She's ready," the Dean says.

Bella enters the room with a folding chair and hair clippers. I sit, guessing what's coming next.

"I'm sorry," she whispers in my ear.

I close my eyes, and she begins shaving my long hair off of my head. Some dim part of my mind grieves its loss—my hair was the only thing about me that I thought was beautiful—but most of me is too numb to feel anything beyond dread of what's coming next.

When Bella finishes, the stone-faced Dean leads me toward the laboratory. Inside, Dr. Avery is waiting for me beside a bed next to the one with the strap that Lozen partially cut for me.

"Get on the table," he commands.

"No."

It's the wrong bed. Lozen made a mistake, and now I'll be trapped again. I can't go through another day imprisoned here. I won't.

"Follow orders or we'll make you."

I try to send a command through the mind manipulator to send me back to my cell, but Dr. Avery only pauses before issuing an order.

"Strap her down."

I turn to run, and the Dean grabs me around the waist. I kick, scratch and bite him, but he doesn't let go. When I'm closer to the table, I headbutt Dr. Avery in the jaw, and he staggers backward.

Dr. Rodriguez rushes out of his corner holding a weapon in his hand. When he gets close enough for me to reach him, I pull my arm out of the Dean's grip and punch Dr. Rodriguez as hard as I can in his right eye. Lozen said his vision will need to be impaired if we're going to escape.

He grunts in pain, but then presses a button on his weapon—a laser pen. It's set to tase me, and my body goes limp. The Dean heaves my now dead weight onto the table, and Dr. Rodriguez straps me to it tightly.

I start screaming. It comes from some primitive part of me that I didn't know existed until this moment. I try to jerk my head back and forth as Dr. Avery slides a metal circle around my head, like a crown.

"She's secure. You can leave now," Dr. Avery tells the Dean.

My mind claws for a command to send through the mind manipulator, but I'm too panicked to send a coherent message, other than asking the Dean not to leave me here with these two sadists. The Dean's eyes meet mine. Instead of the cool, dead acceptance I usually see, there's pain, and something else. Pity? Guilt?

"Let's get started. After the first round she won't have the energy to fight back," Dr. Rodriguez says. His eye is already swelling almost shut, but I'm so frightened that it doesn't give me any real satisfaction.

"If you don't want to injure yourself, bite down on this," Dr. Avery says, pressing a rubber tube against my lips.

I spit it out and he shakes his head. "Have it your way."

He steps back from the table, and I hear the sound of someone moving around the lab. Through the mind manipulator, I scream a command to stop, but I don't know if anyone is near enough to be affected by it.

A countdown starts in the monotone voice of an AI.

10...9...8...

"I can see the future, remember? I know how to access my visions. You can monitor my brain while I do it."

7...6...

"Please don't do this! I can help you, give you whatever information you want!"

5...4...3...

"Mom! Help me! Addie!"

2...1...

I'm struck by lightning. Pain slams through my brain with an intensity beyond anything I've experienced before, and then travels through every nerve ending from my head to the tips of my toes.

My body shakes uncontrollably on the table, and I bite my tongue so hard that my mouth fills with blood.

Just as suddenly, the pain stops, and my body goes limp on the table. I moan, unable to control the noises I make as blood trickles from the corner of my mouth.

Effortlessly, I slide into a vision, like a passenger on a train into my own mind.

I'm back in the room with the round table, surrounded by people in business clothes—Strand executives. Dr. Rodriguez stands next to the table, and he activates a holographic display in the center that shows the double helix of someone's DNA.

"We have successfully isolated the sequence of DNA that appears in Throwbacks with expanded abilities. Using CRISPR technology, we should be able to paste the genetic code into a fetus in utero, and that child will be born with the same ability as the donor."

"Have we begun testing that theory?" a woman in a navy dress asks.

"We'll begin with Throwback fetuses, of course," Dr. Rodriguez says. "Once the procedure is perfected, we can offer the option to Evolved parents. Eventually, we may even find a way to paste this genetic code into adults."

The executives clap politely.

"I'm not sure anyone wants more Throwbacks running around with expanded abilities," says a man in a charcoal suit.

Dr. Rodriguez chuckles. "Indeed. The children should begin to access their abilities by the age of 8 after we infect them with H2IV. After their abilities manifest and they are thoroughly tested, they can simply be retired before they grow up and cause any issues."

"It's exciting technology, but it will be a decade before we can monetize it," the woman in the navy dress says.

"In the meantime, now that we know how to activate our test subjects' abilities, we have other ideas for how we can harness their gifts to help guide Strand's future—and ensure that we keep making our shareholders money. Starting with having the Lozen and Joan clone types provide a window into the future to ensure we make the right investments as a company."

"Are you getting all this?" Dr. Avery asks, pulling me back into the present.

"The lower left quadrant of her pre-frontal cortex has been active for seven minutes. That's the longest any of the subjects have been able to harness their ability for."

"Tell us what you saw," Dr. Avery says, staring down at me.

The Joan that fights back would spit in his face. But I'm not that Joan anymore, so I give him the truth. Or, at least, part of the truth.

"I saw...Dr. Rodriguez telling a bunch of people in suits about how you're going to use me, and the others like me, to make Strand a lot of money."

"She must have seen you with Strand's board of directors," Dr. Avery says, presumably to Dr. Rodriguez. "And did your vision say just how you're going to help us, Joan?"

"You're going to force those of us who can look into the future to use our abilities to make sure that Strand makes good investments. With our guidance, we can ensure that this company makes a lot of money."

Dr. Avery's eyes widen. A moment later, Dr. Rodriguez appears next to him, and the two of them stare down at me.

Dr. Rodriguez glances up at a monitor above my head. "Look at her vitals. She's not lying."

"If we can influence the direction of the subjects' visions, think what we could achieve," Dr. Avery replies. His excitement is repulsive.

"The subject's response to the electro shock therapy exceeded our expectations. Perhaps if we explore this treatment with the others, we'll be able to extract useful information from them that will lead to the success of our experiment—and the company."

The sight of their eager, soulless eyes makes me nauseous. They look like I've handed them the keys to a kingdom of money, success, and power.

And if all of us don't escape this place soon, then maybe I really have.