As the guards lead us back down the stairwell to the basement, everything seems colder. The cuffs pinch at my wrists, and my skin grows raw from squirming. No one speaks.

Why should we? I couldn't form words over the knot in my throat if I wanted to. How stupid can I be? I checked the sign outside the door. I heard my dad's warnings. Isaac was even warning me.

And I ignored all of them because I just had to try and save the day. The world's stupidest hero.

The feeling of betrayal stings slightly less than the regret. Dad was working with Hartley. He didn't stop me from coming to the Research Facility, didn't even say anything to me about what was ahead. How could he do this? And what will Hartley do with him now?

There was a cure! For five minutes, I stood in the same room as the world's hope from the virus. Dad's redemption was right beside me. He put everything at risk to create it.

So, why help Hartley trick me into destroying it? Not that he needed much help. I walked into it like a starving mouse going after a peanut-butter trap.

When we reach the basement door, the guards holding Isaac wrench it open. It slams against the wall, but neither of them pay any mind. They jerk us inside, past rows of old-fashioned metal cells. A door opens at the end, and we're thrown together inside.

The same door shuts with a loud clang, and the guards leave. The room falls silent as their footfalls fade up the staircase.

I walk backwards until I meet a wall and then slide down it. My knees come up to my chin; my head falls weakly.

"Jaelyn." Isaac's whisper creeps across the cell at me. "Jaelyn," he repeats when I don't look up.

I can't, though. Doesn't he understand that? Everything we did was for nothing. Clare and Stephen are more than likely captured or dead; Hartley will still spread the second strand. Everyone who died at the Alma will have died in vain because I was stupid. I'm a disappointment.

I don't deserve to look at him.

"Jay," Isaac says, gently, walking towards me. He drags his feet across the concrete. "It's going to be okay."

Anger hits me, and I look up with a glare. Tears glide down my cheeks. "Okay? It's going to be okay?" I can't stop myself from shouting, even when he backs away from me. "Nothing is okay! Even you can't spin this a different way! It's over, Isaac. OVER!"

Isaac sinks back against the wall, his cuffs clattering. "I'm sorry..."

I know it's not his fault; I shouldn't snap at him. Yet, everything is building to a tense head, and I fear I might explode.

The room falls quiet. Raindrops pelt a window high above our heads. The awkward fluorescent lights bear down on us.

"We can't give up," Isaac finally says. He drops down to his knees in front of me, but I look away. "They're counting on us. Clare and Stephen are still in the compound. They're dead if we don't get them out."

"They might already be." My head lifts. "Dad was working with Hartley. He knew I would come to the house first, and I bet he turned them over the moment we left."

Isaac thinks for a moment. "Then why aren't they here?"

"I don't know." He's right, though. Maybe, somehow, by a streak of wild luck, Stephen and Clare got out or hid. This is where they would bring them if the guards got them.

"We have to try and get out," he continues.

"There isn't a way out."

"There has to be. With a little planning, maybe—"

That does it. I slam my shoulder into him, sending him backwards. He winces as he hits the floor.

"Why are you doing this? We can't get out! There's no way. We're handcuffed, there's no key, and there's more than likely guards outside. We have no weapons and absolutely no hope. Get over it! We failed. Why can't you see that?"

Isaac scoots away from me as best as he can. I expect him to look hurt, but instead, he glares at me.

"What?" I snap.

"You're being stupid." With a grunt, he turns his back on me and starts trying to stand back up.

"Stupid?" I bark out a laugh. "That pretty well sums me up today."

"I'm not talking about the fact that you made a mistake. That trap was laid perfectly for you. Mandy told you they were injecting her with red liquid; Hartley knew you had no impulse control. He also exploited the fact that you care about other people." He slams into the wall and pants for a second, but then, he's up on his feet. "Anyone else would have done the exact same thing. Even me."

"But it wasn't anyone else! Dad warned me, and I didn't listen."

"Well, he didn't exactly give you a good reason to trust him. Creator of the virus, remember?"

I jump as Isaac starts throwing himself against the wall, back first. Every time he hits the concrete, a little more air leaves him and the impact grows weaker.

Those cuffs are strong, though. During training, we practiced putting them on other guards while they fought back. Only a key will free him from that hold.

"Isaac, stop, or you're going to hurt yourself," I call over to him.

"You won't help me. What am I supposed to do?"

He lunges at the wall one more time, and the clanging of metal against concrete echoes between us.

"It's pointless!" I scream. "Why can't you see that?" I jerk wildly at my own arms behind me. "We. Failed."

Isaac glares down at me, his chest heaving with every angry breath. "We only fail if you refuse to keep trying. If we can get out of this room, Jay, there's still a chance."

I roll my eyes at him and open my mouth to argue, but I'm cut off by the sound of the door creaking open. Two guards enter. They all but drag in a very beaten man. He doesn't wear cuffs, but there's no need. Whatever they did to him, he isn't fighting back.

The guards toss him into the cell right beside us, and with a moan, he rolls towards us.

"Howard!" I pop up onto my knees and waddle across the cell. "Hey! Are you okay?" What an idiotic question. Of course he isn't. "What happened?"

My friend opens one eye, sees me, and smiles weakly.

"Well, look who the cat dragged in," he whispers, wincing at the effort. "I forgot to tell you something earlier."

My breath catches in my throat. I sit down, leaning my shoulders against the metal bars. "What is it?"

"I missed you while you were gone." He coughs, squeezing his eyes shut, then continues. "When I saw you outside The Wall, I thought I was hallucinating. I didn't sleep much after you went missing— worried about you a lot."

A strangled breath escapes my mouth, and I start to quietly cry. I did this to him. This is all my fault. God, how many people have to get hurt because of me?

"Why did you let me in?" I ask weakly.

"Because I missed your stupid, corny jokes. I couldn't let my favorite partner get shot by some other Guard. Not when I was standing right there and could prevent it." He pushes himself into a sitting position, and the extent of his wounds smacks me in the face. Both eyes are bloody and swollen. A deep cut on his forehead gushes blood with every small movement. His shirt and pants torn and muddy. "I didn't realize how much trouble you were in."

"I couldn't tell you. I didn't want to put you in more danger than I already was."

Howard laughs breathlessly. "There's the Jaelyn Price I grew to love. Protecting people that never asked to be. I threw myself into the fire when I let you in, honey. Nothing you did could have prevented that."

"I'm still sorry." I lean my head against the metal and let the cold seep through my skin.

"It's alright. You came back for a reason, and I bet I know why." When I snap my eyes back open, he's looking at Isaac. "You came to stop Hartley from spreading the next virus, didn't you?"

Isaac nods. "How do you know about that? It isn't public knowledge, is it?"

"Not at all. Hartley assigned me to the crew that dumps it into the river in a few days. I tried to decline, but apparently, you don't say no to the president. He told me he would throw me out if I didn't take the job. I'm too old to survive out there."

I sit up, hope sparking in me. "Do you know where they're keeping it?"

"Here," he says, nodding. "Room 406."

I look over my shoulder at Isaac. Light has returned to his eyes. He returns my gaze and bites his lip. My hope shrivels at Howard's next words.

"You can't get to it, though."

"Clearly," I mumble, sitting back down. "We're stuck down here."

"No, I mean, it's locked up and heavily guarded. Even if you managed to break out of here— and you could— you'd need a keycard to get in."

Isaac laughs behind me. "Check that off the list."

"And the guard? I don't suppose Hartley let you keep your guns."

Isaac sighs, his body slumping.

"I'll take that as a no," Howard continues. "Before the time of weapons, men fought with hands alone. If they did it then, you could do it now. Chin up, kid. Focus on getting out of here first."

"Any idea how we do that?" Isaac asks. He hits the door with his shoulder. "We don't have a key."

"Find a pressure point and lift." He slumps forward, groaning and shaking his. "All this technology and they can't make better prison cells."

I crawl over to the bars and awkwardly get to my feet. Fumbling with my shoulders against the bars, I hiss in protest. "I can't do this in cuffs!"

"Turn around, smartie pants. Then you can use your hands."

Isaac and I both do what he says. My hands grapple blindly for the hinge, until I manage to fit my fingers around it. Closing my eyes, I push onto my tiptoes and bend forward. The metal cuff fights back against the effort and digs into my skin. I grit my teeth and push harder.

Finally, the pressure relieves. Isaac and I crash into the floor, and the cell door crashes on top of us. I turn my head to see Isaac grinning at me.

"That worked," he says, squirming to where he's on his back. He kicks the door off of us, and it clatters across the concrete. "One problem down, a million to go."

Fighting the urge to roll my eyes, I turn to Howard once more. "But the cuffs."

"They keep a spare set in that lock box. The code should be 1834, unless they changed it."

Isaac goes to retrieve the keys. He has to use his nose to type the code in, but somehow, it works out for him. A moment later, he returns with the keys in his mouth.

"How do you know all this?" I ask Howard, growing suspicious. Is this another Hartley trap?

"I wasn't always a night guard. I used to do security for the facility when it was first built. I got reassigned when they realized my vision was less than perfect." He shrugs.

I look back at Isaac. The keys still dangle from his mouth. How are we going to unlock our cuffs without a free pair of hands.

"Howard, will you do me another favor?" I ask, smirking at him.

"Haven't I done enough for you?" he jokes, motioning to Isaac. "Toss them over here and get as close to the bars as possible."

I stumble over to him and twist around to show him my wrists. After a moment, the weight falls away. The cuffs clatter to the floor. With a sigh, I straighten up.

"Feel better?" Isaac asks as he gets his cuffs removed.

"Much." I kneel back down by Howard, sticking my hand in towards him. "Do you want me to get you out?"

He shakes his head. "I'll just slow you down. Go ahead."

"I owe you one," I whisper.

He reaches out towards me, touching my cheek. "Kid, you owe me a million. Save the world, and we'll be even."

I press my hand into his, feeling the pressure against my cheek. How am I worth all this trouble? He's sacrificed everything for me; the least I can do is to return the favor. With a sigh, I pull away. I have to go undo what I've done.

"Come on, Isaac," I say gently, waving at Howard one last time. "Let's go."

As we slip out the basement door, I wonder if I'll ever see my Howie again.