One of the guards had dropped a stake after the explosion. It lay on the ground, untouched. Elle grabbed it as she flashed past. She came up behind the chief guard and slammed the blunt tip into the soft spot in the back of his skull with the full force of her running momentum. His huge, brawny body dropped like a sack of rocks.

She reached down and grabbed the sword on his back, drawing the gleaming blade in an arc around her head. Elle fastened the leather strap around her chest, sheathed the word and looked up, searching for Georgia. The tall girl was feverishly cutting through the wires on the second cage. The prisoners were pushing against the cyclone fencing, frenzied. Escape!

“RUN!” Elle shouted. “You’re free — get out and don’t come back!”

The prisoners pushed out of the first two cages, almost knocking Georgia and Elle underfoot in the process.

“Okay, I’ll cut,”Elle said, grabbing the wire cutters. “You look for Pix!”

“PIX?” Georgia yelled. “Pix? Where are you?!?”

There were just under a dozen cages here. Elle worked fast to cut the wires before the full force of Klan guards returned. If they were caught — especially Elle — there would be hell to pay.

“Elle!”

Pix’s small, pale face peeked through the bars of the last cage in the row. It was stuffed with younger children. Elle unlocked the door and the children flooded outside. Screams of joy and gratitude filled the air.

“Run!” Elle kept yelling. “You have to GET OUT!”

Stupid people! Didn’t they realize the clock was ticking?

Bam!

Something slammed into Elle’s shoulder. She saw stars. The world exploded in a burst of color as she tumbled to the ground, her shoulder throbbing with pain. She rolled to her feet, lost her balance, and grabbed the side of a cage to stand. The man who she had taken the sword from was standing there, and he was enraged.

“Elle,” the man snarled. “Well, well. What have we here? You’ve come back.”

A stone dropped to the pit of Elle’s stomach. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Georgia grab Pix’s arm and take off into the night.

“I’m leaving, Tomas,” Elle spat. “Get out of my way.”

“You’re not going anywhere.” Tomas’s expression became feral. “You’ll pay for this.”

“Don’t think so,” Elle heaved, still wracked with pain.

She pulled her handgun out of her belt and pointed it at his face. She took a step backward.

“You won’t shoot me,” Tomas laughed, taking a step forward. “You never had it in you to kill. That’s why you failed in the Pits, girl. It takes a killer to be a prize fighter.”

“I’ve killed Klan members before,” Elle replied, standing her ground. “And I’ll kill you, too.”

Her hands shook as she held the gun. She willed herself to remain steady, to make sure the safety was off. She had to do this; she had to kill Tomas. He deserved nothing less than death for everything that he had done.

Crack!

Tomas’s head jerked violently forward. Blood sprayed across Elle’s face. She stood there, shocked, her finger still on the trigger. She hadn’t fired a shot. What had happened?

“Elle!” Jay bounded out of the shadows, Flash in tow. He ran to her, shook her shoulders. He shoved a handgun into his belt. “Are you okay?”

“You shot him,” she said, numb.

“Yes. Come on, we’ve to go. Now!”

He took Elle’s arm and dragged her away from Tomas’s lifeless body. After a few seconds, Elle regained control of her emotions and yanked her arm out of Jay’s grip.

“Where did you get a gun?” she snapped.

“I’ve had one the whole time,” Jay grinned.

“You’re an idiot.” She shot him a sideways glance. “Thanks.”

Jay laughed. Elle didn’t know how to respond.

It had been ages since she’d heard laughter.

So she tucked her head, holstered her gun, and the three of them followed the flood of escapees into the night, disappearing into the darkness of Klan territory.

Elle wasn’t born into killing, she was thrown into it. She had been the daughter of an actress and a man who owned an organic health store. Her fifteen year-old brother had been a violinist. And Elle? She was a gymnastics competitor and a martial arts enthusiast. She didn’t start off as a survivor… but maybe, in some strange way, she had been preparing for life after Day Zero since she was born.

Martial arts, gymnastics, survival skills. These are things that had saved her life in the city. Things that a lot of people didn’t know or couldn’t pull off.

She was lucky, and she knew it.

Elle, Jay and Flash ran through the night. They had become separated from Georgia and Pix when the Pits had erupted into total chaos. The flames from the explosive diesel tanks had spread to the trees and the grass. It was eating away at the park, and the Klan was scrambling to contain the blaze.

Elle felt a rush of satisfaction.

Good, she thought. I hope the Pits are completely destroyed.

The prisoners that escaped from the cages were dispersing throughout the city. Some of them were recaptured by the Klan — but most of them got away. As they got farther away from the Pits, they slowed their pace. Elle’s muscles were burning, her throat was dry, and she was still shaken from facing down Tomas.

“That man,” Jay panted. “You knew him. You were a prisoner in the Pits.”

Elle said nothing. She didn’t need to.

“Why didn’t you just kill him?” he asked.

Elle grabbed Flash’s shoulder and pulled the younger child away from the corner of a building. She made sure it was clear, and they continued.

“I don’t know,” Elle replied.

“But you told Tomas that you had killed Klan members.”

Elle picked up the pace again. “Klan members don’t count as humans. They’re just shadows of who they used to be. So it can’t be murder.”

Jay didn’t reply.

“You don’t have to be defensive,” he said at last. “Nobody is judging you for killing in self defense… except for you.”

Elle blinked back tears. All her life, she had been the quiet child, the demure one. And now she was a hardened survivor, a girl who killed Klan members when she had to. She hated killing. Despised it.

But in this world, her options were slim.

Option A: Be killed.

Option B: Kill.

As soon as they were a couple of miles away from the Pits, they slowed their jog to a fast walk. There had been no sign of Georgia and Pix yet, and Flash was panicking. Elle told him to relax. They were going to be at the bakery — that was the plan, and Elle had seen Georgia and Pix escape during the chaos. They would be there.

It would be okay.

“So what were you?” Jay asked, adjusting his jacket.

“What was I?” Elle asked.

“Before everything happened. What were you?”

“I was just like everybody else,” she said. “I was just a kid.”

“But where are you from? Did you live in L.A. before…well, everything?”

“Beverly Hills,” Elle answered. “I was a freshman. Would have been a sophomore this year.” She sighed. “Too bad. I had plans.”

Jay grunted. “Tell me about it,” he murmured.

Elle saw Georgia out of the corner of her eye. Her long, thin frame was pressed against the brick siding of a building. Pix was clinging to her arm. They both looked terrified.

“Georgia,” Elle stated, nodding in her direction.

Flash surged forward, toward his sister. They embraced.

“You made it,” Pix said.

Georgia hugged Jay. He squeezed her back, and Elle wondered what it would be like to be hugged like that.

“Elle,” Georgia panted, “I’m sorry. I lost you in the rush, but I had to get Pix out of there.”

Elle shrugged it off. She felt awkward, watching everyone else embrace.

“Let’s get back to the bakery,” Elle said. “The Klan will be looking for us. Especially me.”