On the morning of my meeting with Lexi, Strand's public response to the Day Zero vid comes in the form of a press conference. Blake Green, Strand's videographer, insists that all of the footage is fake, the product of good editing software.

The online response afterward is mixed, with conservative media outlets predictably siding with Strand, and the indie outlets convinced that the footage is real. It's too early to tell which way public opinion will swing.

Marie, Harriet and Justus are all hovering around me as I get ready for my meeting with Lexi. For all they say that our plan is foolproof, they're acting like mother hens.

"The likeliest reason for this meeting is to get you to issue a public statement supporting Strand's statement that the footage is false," Justus reasons, pacing the main room of the Bunker.

"Which is why this is the perfect opportunity to get Lexi to admit the truth to Joan on camera," Marie says, handing me a case with contacts that double as cameras. "They're ultra-thin, so she shouldn't be able to detect that you're wearing them. The resolution on the cameras has been upgraded, and when you squint, the contacts allow you to zoom in on whatever you're looking at. It will stream your vid live to us so we can all watch."

I practice, squinting at Marie's eyes, and immediately I can see every fleck of color in her iris. When I stop squinting, my vision returns to normal so quickly that I nearly stumble.

"That's pretty cool," I admit.

Lady Cleo sweeps into the room as I zip up the black bodysuit I'm wearing to the meeting. She looks me over with a critical eye, though she was the one who selected this outfit, and there's no time to change now.

"It's working for you," she says at last.

"She looks like she stepped out of a 20th century music vid," Justus says, but his eyes are lingering appreciatively over my curves.

"Nineties couture is very on trend right now," Lady Cleo insists. "And it suits the requirements you laid out."

I turn away from my friends and straighten my shoulders. If I've learned anything from my time at Seattle Secondary, it's that I need to do more than act the part of a confident leader of an underground rebellion. I have to inhabit that role in my mind—at least until this meeting is over.

"You're unstoppable," Justus murmurs in my ear, low enough that no one else will hear.

I stifle my natural urge to disagree, and choose in this moment to believe him.

~ ~ ~

Harriet drives me to a spot about a mile from Liberty Bridge, which is where I'm meeting Lexi. Any closer and we risk someone from Strand spotting Harriet and following her back to the Lab.

"You can do this, Joan," Harriet says, and she reaches out to squeeze my hand.

It's rare for Harriet to be so openly affectionate, and I know with that squeeze of my hand she's also telling me that she's proud of me for taking on this challenge. Harriet is the person I respect most in this world, and she still has faith in me.

"This is going to work," I say, as much to myself as to Harriet. "We're not done changing the world just yet."

"Done? We're just getting started."

Harriet gives me a nod as I get out of the van and slam the door shut. It's drizzling lightly, and the drops cool my overheated skin.

With effort, I shrug off the insecure Joan I've turned into, and instead inhabit the Joan I need to be today in order to succeed. My steps grow more and more confident the closer I get to my destination.

Lexi is waiting for me, wearing a bright red coat that stands out against the gray of the old bridge. She looks like she's alone, but I'm sure that at least a dozen of Strand's Deans are standing guard among the trees, aiming guns at me.

"Your conditions for this meeting are high on drama—the misty bridge, you in all black. You claim Throwbacks want to forge their own paths forward, but here you are, embracing the trade you were bred for," she says, glancing down at the comedy/tragedy mask tattooed on my wrist. "Which is why I should have suspected that you and your acting friends would create your own vid of Day Zero. Lucky for us the world will never believe a pack of Throwback kids over the word of Strand."

I can tell she's trying to bait me, and it's a struggle not to give into my anger. But I've got ammunition against her this time, and I'm going to use it.

"It wasn't just me who was bred for a life entertaining the Evolved," I say, keeping my voice low. "It should be your destiny, too, right, Lexi?"

I squint my eyes to zoom in on Lexi's face as she turns pale. Sun is definitely going to appreciate that footage for our reality series. She tucks her hand into her pockets, but not before I feel her fingers trembling.

"What did you say?"

"You're a Marilyn. We have proof."

Lexi swallows, and her breaths grow more labored. "What do you want?"

"We'll get to that. You're the one who called me to this meeting. Let's start with what you're hoping to get out of it."

I have to give her credit; Lexi pulls herself together more quickly than I could have.

"You forced us to be enemies, Joan. I always wanted to work together."

I say nothing. Logic never works with madmen.

Lexi swallows, betraying her discomfort at my lack of a response. She's used to opinionated, volatile Joan, but I'm not giving her any pieces of me today.

"We still can. Work together, I mean," she says, holding out her right hand to shake mine. "Deal?"

"I think you know that I'd never do that willingly. You must have some sort of blackmail you want to hold over my head," I say, pushing her outstretched hand away from me.

In the instant I lean forward, Lexi's left hand whips out of her pocket and she slams a syringe into my arm in one swift move. Reflexively, I yank it out of my arm and stagger back. Remembering the minimal training Nic and Mason gave me on self-defense, I move into a defensive fighting pose, and adrenaline pounds though my veins. Dozens of red dots cover my chest before I can go on the offense. The message is clear. One wrong move and one of Strand's minions shoots me right now.

My vision sharpens and my mind has perfect focus. Instead of panicking, calm settles over me. I don't know what Lexi injected me with, but it has to be something that will either kill me or incapacitate me. I can accept death, but I won't be dragged back to Strand.

Before I execute Justus's failsafe and make a quick exit, Lexi speaks. "You've forced my hand, Joan. This is your own doing."

"I'm not the only one who knows who—what—you are. The minute you hurt, kill or make anyone on my team disappear, that information goes public. You can kill every single one of us, and it will still get out. The only way to ensure our silence is to ensure our safety."

I'm surprised to see relief fill Lexi's eyes. "Those are your terms? Agreed. Keep that information private, and Strand will have no part in harming your family or friends. But if it leaks for any reason, I will use every resource at my disposal to find and kill everyone you hold dear."

I clench my jaw to keep my rage from spilling out.

"Don't you want to know what I injected you with?"

Part of me wants to leave without giving her the satisfaction of hearing her out, but I know that's not the smart choice. "Tell me."

Lexi takes a breath, and when she speaks, her words sound rehearsed. "Surely you've wondered why we have let you live, in spite of your insubordination, Joan. Why you were accepted to the most prestigious Throwback acting school in the country with no acting credits to your name, why you were singled out for attention by Dr. Hunter and myself. Why I tapped you for the Strand promotional vid, and cultivated our relationship as we hunted down Crew's rebellion."

I press my lips together, determined not to voice my thoughts. I can see the part she wants me to play in her script—to remind her of how I orchestrated my own involvement in all the scenarios she laid out. To insist I was never her puppet.

But part of me already knows her words are true. I've always wondered about Lexi's strange interest in my clone type. She kept Jo locked up for years, and Strand sent me more powerful headaches than any other Throwback I know. Their interest has always been an itch I can't fully scratch.

"Why me, then?" I finally ask.

"Because you're special, Joan. Maybe you're not ready to embrace just how special yet. Soon, you are going to need Strand and all its resources to support you. When that time comes, we can strike a deal."

"After what you've done today, meeting me again won't be an option," I growl.

"I'm afraid staying away from me isn't an option, Joan. The serum I injected you with activated the Throwback virus in your system—StrandH2IV. You will need an antidote every three days for the rest of your life, or you will die."

The confident character I've clung to falls away, and I'm left with a strange buzzing in my head. It's time to leave before I say or do something I can't take back. I swing my legs over the side of Liberty Bridge and tumble into the cold, dark water rushing beneath it.

As soon as I'm submerged, the rest of Justus's dramatic escape plan goes without a hitch. He's waiting for me in scuba gear, holding a second air tank and mask that I quickly put on.

Justus looks me over once everything is in place, and I gesture that I'm okay. He grips my hand and tugs me downstream, both of us swimming as fast as we can. The current makes it easy to slip past the rocks near the bridge and into deeper water. We surface, shivering, when we're far enough away to be sure that Strand's Deans won't see us.

We swim to shore, and Justus rips off his mask with a triumphant smile.

"Bet they never saw that coming! There's no way anyone could have followed us here." Justus's smile drops away as he reads my expression. "What happened?"

"Let's get warm first," I manage to say through chattering teeth.

Harriet has the van idling in our meetup spot, and Justus and I clamber in, reaching for towels to wrap around our chilled bodies. She doesn't say a word, and I know it's because, unlike Justus, she heard my entire conversation with Lexi.

"Someone needs to tell me what's going on, right now," Justus says as Harriet steers us through Seattle's afternoon traffic.

"Lexi says she injected Joan with something that activated the H2IV virus in her blood, and she has to meet with Lexi in person every three days for an antidote, or she'll die."

At Harriet's words, the buzzing in my head that started when I was handed this death sentence stops. All of a sudden, I know what I'm feeling.

I've spent weeks just surviving, forcing myself to put one foot in front of the other. But now, faced with the very real possibility of death, all I want is to keep on living.