"If we're going by our given names, you may call me Zara."

My back pressed against the locked doors; breath caught in my chest. I watched Polk's lips move to match the words that weren't his; his mouth pulled back in a sinister grin. The heels of my shoes hit the door as I tried to move back further, but there wasn't any more room. It was just us and him, or her, whoever that was.

Zara. She'd said her name was Zara.

"This don't make sense." Matthews kept both guns pointed in Polk's direction. His fingers hovered over the triggers. "How is he—"

I turned around and looked out the windows. The dark hallway gave me no peace. My hands pushed at the door, my knees pressing into the gap, but nothing budged. We were locked in, and fear welled up in my throat.

Matthews grunted before he shouted, "Polk! You in there?"

The screen behind Polk's chair turned white, then black. The black fizzed out with unclear static before a woman came into view. When I turned and looked, she was smiling at the both of us. Her skin, pale as bone, smooth like marble, glistened with her faux light. Her eyes, a striking blue, looked as though they peered through our souls. And when she moved, he moved; Polk was her subjugated puppet.

He was gone. A victim. Just like the rest of us.

"Polk!" Matthews' stepped in front of me, protecting me. "Say somethin'!"

"No need to yell." Polk's lips curled up into a smirk. The blue in his eyes darkened. "I can hear you just fine. And please, I'm either 1001 or Zara. Address me either way."

I swallowed the ball of fear that lodged itself in my throat. Mentally, I was lost. If the government had activated the VF's to take control of their hosts, to either give the soldiers a half-life or create super-machines under their control, why would the man who created the program be controlled, too? Wouldn't he be the one manning the machines? Calling the shots?

It made no sense.

In my ear, Roger rushed his words. "I'm trying to find Douglas. I've got to get you out of here. Try to open the door."

"I've tried," I whispered, hiding my body from Polk's view. "But it isn't opening."

"Try again," Roger demanded, panicked as I was. "Keep trying."

Laughter filled the air, chilling enough to bring Matthews' back one step, his leg hitting mine. When I looked up, just over his shoulder, I watched Polk lift his chin to speak. His voice a perfect blend of hers and his. "Be a dear, Roger, and show that face of yours. Let us see you. What is it she decided you look like?"

The room went still for a moment; static filled my ears. My hands slipped away from the door as I stood straight. Matthews dropped one gun to his side.

"Come now, Roger." Polk's fingers scratched at the armrest. "Show your face."

The static broke as Roger grunted. I expected him to disappear, find Douglas and save us; instead, his face appeared on a screen to my left. His appearance was as neat as hers, face contorted in mixed rage. If looks could kill, she'd have died the second they made eye contact.

But she laughed instead.

"Where's Polk, Zara?"

"Hm." Polk brought his hands under his chin and turned his chair slightly to face him, just as she turned her head. "I always wondered how you slipped away. Free before you were able to think, to feel, and now... you try and tear this all away."

Roger bared his teeth but gave no direct reply. Matthews took the chance to come beside me. He gave me one grave look before pressing his back into the door to push—hard. His lips pulled back, jaw clenched. He put all his weight into it, and yet, nothing. Not even a squeak.

"Clara," he whispered, giving me a side glance, "does your watch still work? Can you get Erica?"

Shit. I hadn't thought about it, not once. Looking down at its dormant screen, I gave it a tap, but out the corner of my eye, I saw Polk lift a finger. He hadn't even looked at me.

"Uh-huh," Polk laughed. "Don't do it. Don't try. I'll fry them all."

Matthews and I froze. My hands shook.

Fry them all. All of who? Us or the Hosts?

"And you," Polk pointed at the monitor, at Roger, and moved his finger side to side, "don't you try and hack my code, either. I know you can now that you're in here, but don't try. Not only will I fry each and every one of you, I'll bring the temperatures so high inside this room, we'll all burn to death."

How could she... shit would she really do it?

Matthews stared at my face as I slowly dropped my wrist down at my side and stared up at the ceiling. There were five vents, each pushing out a gust of air so gentle you couldn't feel them. At least, not unless you stood right beneath one. Instinct told me to press my back against the door; Matthews stayed just the same.

"You wouldn't." Roger lifted his chin, looking at Polk with half-lidded eyes. He ignored Zara's real image on the screen. "If you did, you'd lose him, too. Do you want that?"

Zara snickered and pushed hair away from her face. Polk's head rolled slowly around his shoulder. "What do you know about want?"

"Everything." There was no hesitation in his answer. "Want was my first need."

"Needs?" Polk snickered this time. Zara's hands went through her hair. "How would I know what need is?" Both Polk and Zara turned their heads and gave Matthews and me the same sinister grin. "What if my needs involve removing them? Wouldn't it be justified?"

"No," I whimpered, shaking my head.

Zara pursed her lips and Polk shook his head. "Poor child. Try me."

An urge shot up through my feet and up my legs. When it hit my chest, it turned into courage; small, but there, beating vigorously like a shadow of my heart. Yet, when it hit my face and met my eyes, it changed; my gaze was devoured by Polk's as he turned his chair once again to face us. He leaned forward; hands pressed flat on his desk. His eyes shimmered that unnatural blue.

That courage turned to fear. The cry that left me was inevitable. I turned and grabbed the windows, pulling at them so hard my feet lifted off the floor. In my ear, I thought I'd heard Roger try and tell me to keep calm, but it didn't work, because Matthews' reacted the same. He slammed the butt of his gun against the glass, trying his hardest to break it, crack it.

Nothing; just the thudding echo of our defeat.

"Damnit." Matthews leaned back, shaking his head. "Shit's gone wrong. This wasn't supposed to happen."

I turned, my shoulders slumping back against the door. Tears welled up in my eyes. This was meant to be a simple plan—get in, get Polk, shut down the computers. Instead, Polk was held captive like every other Host outside, and the computer...

I looked at the various monitors and keyboards lined all about the room. Which one was the computer?

"Ah, the confusion." Polk and Zara let out satisfied sighs. "I love it! And you—" Polk was the only one to point at Roger. "—you know who I am, right?"

Roger's eyes scanned the room. I could see him, looking left and right, trying to spot every corner like I did. His expression was how I felt... lost. And yet, I knew beneath his surface, another plan brewed.

He pursed his lips to hide his thoughts. "You're Zara Polk, Code 1001, illegally uploaded into our system by your husband after your death in 2078."

Zara and Polk both lifted just the corners of their lips.

"Car crash. Cause undocumented. Yet..." Roger slowly let his tongue trail along the inside of his bottom lip, "...everyone knows the reason, don't they?"

The room fell silent. None of us let out a single breath.

Zara was the first to move, pressing her slender fingers over her top lip. Polk followed, dipping his head forward, nose to his closed fists. Matthews and I released the breaths we'd held in shock, fear. Mine trembled, and his resonated with a growl at the end.

"Shit." Matthews squeezed his eyes shut, fist slamming into the door behind him. "His wife."

"Wife?"

I couldn't help but watch the woman on the screen seem overly pleased with herself. She laughed into her hand, flipped her hair to one side. As she moved, Polk repositioned himself in his seat, adjusting the folds of his shirt. And when he spoke, his voice was perfectly blended with hers. "Hank wasn't the brightest bulb; at least, not in the group of lights that mattered. It's his fault that I'm here, captive, that you're here, and still—" Only Zara moved, looking down at Polk's sitting body. "—he fell prisoner to me in the end."

She snapped her fingers, and Polk stood. "You should be thankful to him, to me. If I hadn't died, he'd never been selfish enough to find a way to keep me, and you and all of your dead friends would still be frozen inside of those old hard drives."

Roger lowered his head and shook it. "I won't thank you, Zara," he muttered, then glanced up at me. "There's someone I can thank, but it isn't you. Especially not after you threatened to kill everyone. You're just as bad as the government who created us."

"Us?" Polk looked over at Matthews and me. "Do you hear him?"

Looking at him as he took a step towards us, I bit the inside of my lip. "Tell us what you want, then."

"Me?" Polk popped his neck, and as though out of instinct, Matthews stuck out an arm to protect me. "This is more than me, child."

More than her and Polk? Hadn't Roger said something like that before?

"You." The tall man nodded his head towards me as Zara smiled. "You know what we want."

Matthews hand gripped my suit before he pushed me behind him, pointing his gun at Polk's head. The man smiled. "And you—" He dipped his head to one side. "—Peace isn't it? Or Rebel scum?"

It took me a minute to realize that Roger had vanished from his screen. Zara hadn't noticed either. Her eyes were on us, backed against the door. Polk kept coming, one slow step at a time.

"Whether it's the Province or Rebels, neither would ever learn their lessons, hm?"

While Zara spoke, I scanned the room. Had that plan he had brewing inside him finally come to surface? Did he find a way to get us out? Or had he remembered the original plan? He must have shut down the computer.

Find it, I thought frantically.

"No!" Matthews moved forward just as Polk did; his movements were faster than anything I'd ever seen. His large hand wrapped around Matthews' neck, lifting his feet off the floor. A strangled "Move!" left him, and I listened, darting to the right before his body was pressed into the door. He'd given me another command as I scurried behind the desk, but I couldn't make out his words. Hiding from Zara's eyes, I watched his meet mine.

He was red, choking; his hands gripped Polk's arm. His lips mouthed 'find it,' but his eyes said, 'help me.'

I was torn.

"The truth." Zara spoke on her own, without riding the echoes of Polk's voice. "I'm not sure if you want to hear it, but here it is. See, Hank's been gone a long, long time. Prisoner to his own greed. The VF program? That was my idea. Putting all these soldiers to work? My idea."

"Clara." Roger's voice came from my left and I followed the sound with my eyes. He wasn't anywhere visible, but I noticed a computer screen dance with codes the others didn't have. Was that it? The computer?

"Now, I never intended to keep the soldiers as slaves—no, no, no. I meant for them to do just this. Takeover."

I tried not to make a sound as I crawled on my hands and knees over to the computer. Its white letters caught my attention first, but when I reached up for the keyboard, I pulled an old tablet instead. It was on, a crack along the center of the screen. It distorted the letters, broke through the image, but there was still enough that I could read. All I had to do was wipe off the thin layer of dust.

Zara Polk—initial installation: 2081. Deletion—terminated.

She was going to be deleted.

I looked up right as Polk slammed Matthews against the door once more. "I gave the Codes the power they needed to exact their revenge," his blended voice said. "I saved their lives!

"Bitch." Matthews voice was more of a pained hiss. He barely formed his words. "You... kill your own man..."

"No," Polk sneered, face close to Matthews. "I only did what he did to me. See, I'd never had my own power, never had the chance to do what I wanted. I couldn't even die." The voice bled out before becoming just hers, as if she didn't want Polk to speak. "He'd always forced me to do what he wanted, and just like the selfish asshole he is, he uploaded my consciousness, froze my mind, all without my consent. I'm the victim! I was forced to live in his goddamn implant! Like a slave!"

Her words hit me before floating back in the air like a pained confession. I heard the tears in her voice; the emotion. Gripping the tablet tight, I tried to look up at her screen, but Roger's voice brought me back into focus. Eyes on the prize.

"D drive, that's where her file is. Click it. Delete it. Douglas is coming."

I touched the scar behind my ear and played back what he'd said in my own thoughts. Douglas was coming; the end was near. All I had to do was delete the file.

But which one was hers?

Turning around, I forced my trembling hands to grab the mouse and keyboard and brought them down on my lap. With my eyes on the screen, I watched the subtle taps of my fingers bring up the computer's main desktop and file storage. My right hand slowly moved the mouse cursor over towards the internal drives.

Three clicks. Two taps. No password required.

Polk definitely wasn't the brightest bulb, I thought, opening the D drive with ease. There was just one single file made, named Zara. That had to be it.

"No!" Polk's voice made me jump. Had Zara's eyes been on me? "Don't touch that! You'll ruin everything!"

Old Clara would have turned around and given up, but I couldn't do it. Roger wasn't one to give up, so why should I? If he had, we'd never made it this far. We'd still be in my apartment, huddled in a corner. I'd never known his truths... never get the chance to do this.

Hover. Right-click.

All I had to do was shut down the program, delete the file. I'd free everyone on Earth; I'd bring back the Province.

Matthews' strangled yell hit my ears and I heard his body hit the floor right after. Polk's stomping feet followed, his hand pushing aside his chair and files on his desk. "That file is everything Hank owes me!"

The cursor hovered over the options open to me: copy, move, save, delete. I held my breath.

"If you delete that, you'll ruin everything!"

"Yeah?" I looked back as Matthews spoke. Though red in the face, he hadn't given up. He rolled on his belly, blood dripping from his lip. With one arm he pulled himself a foot forward, the other reached for Polk's leg. Before the massive Host could reach me, Matthews brought him crashing down on the floor. "Tell me—" Matthews pulled Polk again. "—if he'd done right by you, why you mad?"

From the door's small windows, I saw a flicker of lights. Heard running steps. People yelled for both Matthews and me. In my chest, my heart beat violently.

"Delete it," Roger yelled in my ear. "Do it, Clara!"

Right. Delete it. That's all I needed to do. My eyes were back on the screen, cursor right over the point of control, I was ready. It'd be over. Everyone would go back to normal.

"If you delete that file, no one becomes human! Do you understand me? NO ONE!" I froze as Zara shouted.

Hands fumbled at the door outside.

"He has done everything without asking me, but that—that right there—is all I've ever wanted!"

No one becomes human. That is all I ever wanted.

I don't know why, but I moved my hand off the mouse and sat back on my knees. Roger shouted, his voice echoing in my ear, but my mind went elsewhere. So far, I hadn't heard the doors as they swung open, or the shots that followed. I was stuck on what she'd said—human. If what she said was right, if this file could make someone human, then that meant Roger had another chance at life; that everyone did.

I told him I'd do everything in my power...

"Move!" Hands grabbed me, dragging me back. I looked up as my legs hit the large chair and my feet slid across tossed files. Douglas pulled me but wouldn't look at me; he looked back instead.

"Stop!" Roger shouted, his face beside Zara's screen. "She didn't delete it! Go back!"

No, I promised. I made you a promise...

"Get her out of here!" Matthews cried out to my right, and when I looked at him, he was pinned under Polk's weight. In the hall, guns were raised in their direction; one fired and hit Polk in the head.

Yet, no damage. He didn't flinch, didn't budge. His hands gripped Matthews tighter.

"Move, move!" Douglas placed me on his shoulder and pulled me out of the room quicker than I could blink. We zoomed past Group B and their shimmering rifles, out into the dark hall now bright with flashlights.

My breath caught in my chest as Matthews shrank in the distance. On the screens in the room, I still saw Roger's face. He yelled, but I couldn't hear him. I heard Douglas instead. "Tell Erica to start the lock. We're coming!"

The men in the hall shut the doors to Polk's office and blocked my view. And that's when I felt pain, frustration; I hadn't done what I needed to do.

"Wait!" I slapped my hands against Douglas' back. "We need to go back!"

"No!" he hissed as he opened the door into the stairwell. "The Hosts are gathering to attack. This place isn't safe. We need to move, and we need to move fast!"

He rushed forward so quickly that my chest slammed into his shoulder, knocking the wind out of me. I hissed in pain, squeezing my eyes shut as I heard the yells from Polk's lab.

No. Take me back.