Behind it was a scene I didn’t want to revisit, but I knew I had to. It was the only way to persuade them to run—the only way to get anyone to believe. They had to know what was going on. They had to be scared.

“So what do we do?” Hector was standing beside me now, his breath puffing in cold clouds.

“I’m going to break in.”

“What do you need me to do?”

I looked at him, surprised. “Hector—”

He interrupted, gesturing back toward the doors we’d just left. “Just tell me what to do. We only have an hour.”

I nodded. He didn’t want to help me; he wanted to help Curtis and Carrie.

I stepped up to the door, which fit snugly into the jamb; there was hardly any gap between. I tested putting the wedged tip of the crowbar in the crack, but it didn’t go far.

“Here,” he said, holding up his hammer.

I held the crowbar in place and he tapped it with the hammer, trying to push the edge into the gap. But it wasn’t going far. After a dozen taps, he shook his head. “It’s not working.”

I knocked on the metal, and it resonated. The door was hollow. That was something. My worry had been that the door wasn’t a regular door, that it was some kind of reinforced vault. But, it seemed perfectly normal.

“Stand back,” I said. He moved away.

I swung the crowbar down at the knob. It clanged loudly and bounced off. The vibrations in my injured arm stung viciously, but I tried to ignore them. I looked down at the knob. A small dent, but that was all.

“Keep trying,” someone said. I didn’t look to see who.

I hit it again and again, banging down on the metal handle until it was bent and scratched.

I had to get inside. I didn’t even care about the consequences of going back to face the other gangs now—I needed to show them this.

“Mason,” Hector called. “Get over here.”

I stopped for a breath. I was sweating now, overheated under my sweatshirt even though it was freezing outside. As I watched Mason approach, I saw the others. All the V’s were standing behind us.

Hector directed Mason to the door. “Your turn.”

He looked surprised, but he couldn’t have been more shocked than I was.

“You won’t be in trouble,” he assured him. “They’ll think Benson did it.”

He pointed up at the building. “Did you see them?”

On the floor above us a dozen faces were pressed against the windows, trying to look down and figure out what we were doing.

“Just do it,” Hector said, looking back at the door.

A little smile appeared on Mason’s face. He raised his heavy pipe wrench and swung it onto the knob. His first blow skidded a few inches down the metal door, scraping a silver gash in the paint. I watched him as he pounded it again and again, raising his arms, taking a breath, and then slamming it down.

And suddenly I was watching Dylan with his pipe, relentlessly beating Jane. I bent in half and then fell to a crouch, trying not to throw up.

Gabby jogged over from the rest of the V’s. While Mason worked, she spoke to Hector.

“They’re trying to force the door,” she said. “They’re coming out here.”

“Who is?”

Gabby’s eyes were wide, and her chin was trembling. “The other gangs. I don’t know who. But I can hear them.”

Hector turned to the others. “Tapti, you and Gabby watch the door. If they break through, get back here as fast as you can.” He directed two others toward the far corner of the building to watch for someone coming that way, and then sent two more fifty yards back from us to watch the windows. “Benson’s turn again.”

I took the pipe wrench from Mason—it was heavier and he was having more luck with it—and began smashing the knob again. He’d done a lot of damage—it was bent down at a forty-five-degree angle. I hit it three times but then asked for the crowbar back. I’d noticed the bent knob had folded away from the door—there was a half-inch gap.

Mason helped me position the bar, jamming in the sharp wedge, and then we both pried with all our strength. It felt so close.

Hector jumped in and then called for Joel.

I heard a shout somewhere and for a moment all three of us stopped to look. We couldn’t see anything.

I reached in my pocket and pulled out the grenades.

“Here,” I said, shoving them into Hector’s hands. “They’re filled with pepper spray.”

A smile crossed his face for an instant, but then he pointed at the door again. “You’d better hurry.”

He left in a run.

“Come on,” I said, turning back to the knob and yanking again on the crowbar. The strain was sending bolts of pain across my chest and ribs, but I continued. Maybe I was imagining it, but it felt like it was moving ever so slightly.

“They’re coming,” someone behind us said. I felt the pressure in the bar lessen as Joel turned to look.

“One more time,” I urged. “Come on.”

Dozens of voices were yelling now, and I was suddenly aware that all of the V’s were close, surrounding us. Guarding us.

I pushed with all my strength, my arms and legs quivering as I struggled to move the bar. Joel put a foot on the door for leverage and Mason grunted.

With a pop, all three of us fell, the crowbar flipping and launching the broken doorknob in the air.

The door was still closed, leaving a hole where the knob used to be. Unfortunately, a horizontal bar crossed through the hole—the door was still locked.

I heard Skiver’s voice, and he was close. It didn’t sound like anyone had started fighting yet, though.

I picked up the crowbar and looked at Mason and Joel. They didn’t know what to do.

Just as I had raised the crowbar to ram into the hole, I heard someone say, “Benson. Wait!” I lowered the bar and looked.

Rosa was behind me. I felt my body tense, and my grip tightened on the crowbar.

“If you smash it you’ll bend the locking mechanism and you’ll never get it open,” she said. Pushing past me, she knelt at the door, peering in the hole. She pulled out a pocketknife and unfolded the screwdriver.

I looked back at the crowd around us. It was mostly Havoc, but there were a few Society kids there, too. No one had started fighting yet—none of the leaders were there—but they all were screaming at one another.

Rosa had only been fiddling with the knob for thirty seconds when I heard her say, “All done.”

She stood, pulling on the door with two fingers. It swung open.

I stared at her. Wasn’t she supposed to stop me? Was she an android setting a trap, or was I wrong about her?

At the movement of the door, the mob dropped into low murmurs. Even the V’s, who had been ready for a fight, turned enough to see what was behind the door.

I suddenly felt completely overwhelmed. I couldn’t walk down there alone.

“Mason,” I said, motioning him over.

He stood in front of me, peering cautiously down the half-open door. His voice was quiet and trembling. “What’s down there, Fish?”

I stared. Everything was silent.

I glanced at him. “Give me a second?”

He took a long, deep breath. “Yeah. But not much more than that. They’re not going to stay calm for long.”