“Hey, Bense,” she whispered sleepily.

“Hey, Becky.”

I did something, Becky. We’re in danger. I wanted to say it, but all I did was blow out the lantern.

Lily had to be right. The Greens were the fighters, not Birdman. I needed to find out for sure.

She reached over with her good hand and touched my arm. “How are things?”

“I don’t know.”

A few minutes later the warning bell rang. I heard the outer door creak open and then slam shut and lock. A moment later, the roar of the truck engine filled the night air.

I’d put people in danger. But maybe it would help. Maybe Harvard would learn something.

I’d definitely learned something. I needed Shelly more than I needed Birdman.

I woke in the morning to the sound of voices. They weren’t shouting, or laughing, or yelling. They were just talking. I sat up, but Becky was faster, peeking out the vent toward the courtyard.

“Are they having another meeting?” I asked.

She shrugged and turned back to me. “I don’t see anything.”

I moved to the other vent.

“Oh, Becky …”

CHAPTER TWELVE

Becky and I hadn’t made it five steps out of Carrie’s room before Birdman shouted at us.

“Get back inside,” he snapped, striding across the courtyard to me.

“They’re here,” I said, still moving toward the door.

“Dammit, get back in your hole,” he said. “We haven’t checked them yet. Half of ’em could be dupes for all we know. And don’t think Maxfield’s not going to double security after your stunt last night.”

Becky looked at me. We both knew he was right, but from the look on her face I almost thought she couldn’t survive the wait.

“How long will it take?”

He started for the door. “As long as it takes. And I’m sure as hell not bringing them all in here. This fort is secure, and I don’t bring anyone in that I don’t trust.” He shook his head. “Except you, I guess.”

Becky stood in the cold morning air, staring at the gate, hopeful and scared.

She didn’t look guilty—that was all me. I’d led them to their deaths, not her. She was probably thinking more about them now, about how they’d suffered and how she could help them. I was thinking about how I needed to beg for forgiveness.

More people in the fort were spilling out of their rooms now, eager to greet their friends they’d never actually met.

I put my arm around Becky’s waist and pulled her toward me.

“I have to see them,” she said, hardly above a whisper.

“We will,” I said. “We just need to be safe.”

Our eyes locked for several seconds before she nodded and we walked back to Carrie’s room.

Carrie was anxiously brushing her hair, trying to see herself in the broken shard of a mirror she kept on her table. She turned to look at us, nervous and embarrassed.

“You look beautiful,” Becky said, breaking into a smile.

“He’s here,” she said. “I saw him through the window.”

I’d seen Curtis, too, actually walking on his injured leg. Just two days ago they were saying he might lose it, but he was walking without a crutch. There was a noticeable limp, but that was hardly something to complain about. Whatever advanced medicine the school had supplied us with that was healing Becky’s arm must have also saved Curtis’s leg.

“Is this a new shirt?” Becky asked, touching the thin yellow linen that was the cleanest fabric I’d seen since getting here.

“I’ve been saving it. I wanted to look nice.”

Becky turned Carrie around and looked at her. “He’s going to love you.”

Carrie’s face contorted for a moment, like she was going to break down and sob, but she pulled it back and took a deep breath.

“Go get him,” Becky said.

Carrie nodded and left, leaving her coat on the bed.

“Please, Curtis,” Becky whispered. “Don’t freak out.”

I pulled Becky to me and held her tight.

We watched out the window as the disheveled group gathered. Becky had her journal and was quickly scribbling a list of everyone she’d seen. Last we’d heard, sixteen had died at the fence. We knew Hector had been killed back at the school. What we hadn’t been prepared for was how small the group of survivors was.

Thirty-three. When I’d gotten to the school, there were seventy-two. Sure, many of those had turned out to be androids, but that didn’t do much to make me feel better. Seeing the thirty-four of them here, rounded up in a confused circle as the people in the town spoke to them, made my stomach turn. Half the school was gone.

Birdman stood in front of them and talked for a while. More than once I saw him point to his head. He was explaining. No one was freaking out, not like I was expecting. Some were crying, some were hugging each other, but they weren’t scared or enraged—they were tired and defeated.

I could see Carrie standing away from the crowd, shivering in her new short-sleeved shirt. Curtis was staring at her, stony faced.

He thought she’d betrayed him. Her dupe had popped, and the robot Carrie had taken the gun from Curtis and she’d killed Oakland. It wasn’t like me and Jane. Jane had broken my heart and messed with my brain, but I’d known her for only a few short weeks. Carrie and Curtis loved and trusted each other, and maybe this very moment was the first time he realized she wasn’t just a robot—that there was a real Carrie. And Carrie—the real Carrie—was in love with him.

Birdman finished his speech and directed them away from our view, off toward the Greens.

“Twenty Society,” Becky said, setting her journal down. Her voice was pained. “Seven from Havoc. Six from the V’s. That’s all that’s left.”

“A lot of them were dupes,” I said. “I mean, Carrie and Mason and Shelly and all the others.”

Becky sighed and stood up, moving away from the window. “That’s the problem.”

“What?”

“Look at the names,” she said, gesturing to her journal and walking to the door. “Almost all of the dupes were from Havoc and Variants.”

“So what?” If anything, that meant that more of her friends were just who they thought they were.

“We had the security contracts—the Society,” she said, staring out at the empty courtyard. “We were running the school, and guarding the walls, and enforcing the rules. And it was all voluntary.” She turned her head, looking at me over her shoulder. “When I found out about the androids, I’d almost hoped …”

She didn’t finish. She didn’t have to.

Isaiah had been out there, in the group of tired survivors.

Not that it mattered. Even the dupes got their personality from a human. We couldn’t blame anything we’d done to each other on androids. It was all us. We’d fought and killed each other, and it was all us.

I built a fire in the pit, and Becky and I sat together, a blanket draped around our shoulders. It was snowing again, tiny crystal flakes that weren’t sticking to anything but that seemed to make everything colder and sharper. We were almost the only ones left in the fort—everyone else was out talking to the new arrivals.