My stomach twists at her words, at the sudden realization that we might be forced back out. I’d been an idiot to assume our staying at Fort Noix was automatic. Of course we wouldn’t be accepted just like that.

Ben’s hand reaches for my arm and squeezes and I realize he must be thinking the same thing. Likewise, Bree grabs the fabric of my gown, twisting it anxiously into her fist, while Charlie stares at me with wide, terrified eyes. Penelope whines with anguish. None of us want to go back out there. None of us can leave this place now that we’ve seen it. Even the thought of it is too cruel.

A nurse, tending to someone on the far side of the dorm, looks over and scowls at General Reece.

“My patients are still weak,” she said, glancing at my IV line. “They need to be allowed to rest for a few days. Sending them back out there like this would be a death sentence.”

It would be a death sentence in any state, I think.

Almost as soon as she says it, I become immediately aware of all the aches and pains in my body. The adrenaline of finding myself alive and safe, of being reunited with my friends and sister, has been the only thing carrying me this far; being reminded of everything my body has gone through brings the pain flooding back.

“Then they will die,” General Reece replies firmly, matter-of-factly. “The decision lies with the Commander. I follow the Commander’s orders. You follow mine.”

The nurse looks away, immediately obedient, and the General, without another word, turns on her heel and marches out.

We all look at each other anxiously and then, prodded by the soldiers, we follow the General, flanked by her equally obedient soldiers.

It’s difficult to walk down the corridor. There are aches in muscles I never knew I had, and my bones seem to creak and grind as I walk. Sharp pains race through my neck and spine, making me wince. Moreover, I’m absolutely famished. Yet I don’t feel able to ask for food, worried that it may sway General Reece or the Commander, make them think that we’re demanding or spoiled. If we want to survive, we need to give off the best impression we possibly can.

Ben keeps glancing at me with a worried expression, and I can see his anxiety, his fear that we might be expelled from Fort Noix and left to fend for ourselves all over again. I share his fear. I’m not sure any of us would survive that again. It’s as if I’d been bracing myself all these years, steeling myself to survive this world, knowing that no other option existed. But now, seeing all this, seeing what is possible, the thought of going back to it is just too much.