“There’s a truck headed up to Northgate, going through the compound to the gate. The driver will let you on it if you leave…” She looked at her watch. “Within the next half hour.”

His heart leapt into his throat. “Really?”

“Goes straight there. You’ll be there by eight a.m.”

Eight a.m. Nearly twenty-four hours early. Less exposure to the virus inside the Q. He could be back inside a comfortable quarantine room at the CDC by this afternoon.

But. He glanced back at Maisie.

He’d promised to help her find the shipment.

Of course, he’d be gone before she woke up and realized what he’d done.

His stomach twisted guiltily. He couldn’t do that to her. He’d promised. And he wouldn’t just abandon her—unconscious—in hostile territory.

“No,” he said. “Thank you, but I have to help her with something first.” He gestured to Maisie.

“You sure?” Doc paused at the bottom of the stairs, lifting a skeptical eyebrow.

“Are you sure?” He could see his mom in front of him. And Caroline. They both had this skeptical way of looking at him whenever he did something that wasn’t totally selfish. Like they thought there must have been a catch or that he’d change his mind.

He tried not to be too insulted about it—for years, he’d been the black sheep of the family, the one rolling his eyes when his dad started lecturing about acts of service. (His dad was insufferable at times, but he also practiced what he preached. It was both annoying and a point of pride for Lennon.)

But he couldn’t help but think that his family had never expected quite enough of him. Maybe they should have had a little more faith.

“Yeah,” he said to Doc. “I’m sure.”

MAISIE

MAISIE’S EYELIDS WERE glued together. She tried opening them and failed.

She tried again. Light crept in. Pain shot through her left arm. She moaned.

“Hey,” a male voice said. “Don’t try to sit up. You’re probably groggy from the sedative.”

Lennon. She squinted, blinking again until he came into focus. He was sitting in a chair. The room slowly took shape behind him. Some kind of makeshift medical station.

The Taser. The pain. Lennon pushing her into the table and looking down at her with those intense green eyes. It all came rushing back, and she ignored his advice and tried to sit up.

The world spun violently, and she collapsed back onto the soft surface. She groaned.

“Doc said you’ll only be groggy for about an hour,” he said.

“Doc?”

“Hadley made a call to her friend, and he directed us here,” Lennon explained. “Those Tasers shoot devices that destroy your artificial organs.”

“What? That’s sadistic.”

“I know. But honestly you got really lucky, because two of them got stuck on the metal plate in your hand. And Doc got the other one out before it got past your arm. She thinks it was stuck for a while too, but managed to get free.”