Kina nods and presses the butt of the rifle into her shoulder, resting her cheek against it as she looks down the barrel toward Jacob.

I lean down to the paralyzed guard. “I’m going to take you out of stasis now,” I tell him, using their words. “If you try anything, my friend will execute you. Am I understood?”

He can’t nod, can’t reply, but I know that he understands the stakes. I navigate the menus and deactivate the paralysis. As soon as the needle is fully out of his body he gasps and sits up. He begins to sob in my arms.

“Get it together,” I tell him, pulling him to his feet.

“That was … that was …”

“Believe me, we know,” Kina says, still aiming the gun at him.

“This way,” I tell him, pushing him out into the corridor, where the screams of the guard in the energy harvest become almost deafening.

“Oh god, oh god, oh, god,” Jacob mutters, stumbling toward the cells of our friends.

“Stop,” I tell him, outside Wren’s cell. “Open it.”

Jacob leans down to the iris scanner but stops as the lights dim.

“What is that?” Kina asks, storming up to Jacob and pressing the gun against his head.

“It wasn’t me,” he says, standing upright, his eyes wide with terror. “I didn’t do it.”

Red lights begin to flash on all levels of the Block and a siren sounds followed by the voice of Happy. “Escapees on floor three. Complete lockdown initiated.” The screens beside the cell doors turn red as the doors to Kina’s and my cells slam shut.

Kina looks at me, something far beyond simple fear in her eyes. We’re both thinking the same thing: Death is a beautiful prospect compared to what our lives have become in the Block. I nod my head and she aims the gun at me.

“Wh-what are you doing?” Jacob stutters.

Kina lowers the gun and walks to me. She kisses me one last time and smiles up at me. “Thanks for trying, Luka.”

“It was no big deal.” I shrug, and we laugh as she raises the gun to my head once again.

“See you soon, maybe,” she says, and her finger presses down on the rifle’s trigger.

And nothing happens.

“There are restrictions on our weapons,” Jacob says. “They won’t fire when aimed at batteries. To stop us accidentally killing assets.”

“Assets?” Kina says, turning the gun toward Jacob and marching toward him. “Batteries?”

“That’s what they call you. Assets, batteries. These are their words, not mine.”

Kina doesn’t slow. She marches forward until the barrel of the gun is pressing into the boy’s temple. “You’re one of them.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he says, fumbling his words. “No piece of Block equipment will kill you,” Jacob continues, his voice straining now. “You’re worth too much to the government.”