Sweat drips from my brow as I move, ducking below the barrage of fists aimed at my chest. Sky is strong and taller than me, but I'm fast and able to weave through her attacks like water. So far, she hasn't landed any hits on me yet, and it's starting to get to her.

She's getting messy.

Her lightning-fast left hook goes wide, exposing her abs, and I go for it, spinning out of the way of her attack and landing a solid kick to her stomach. She grunts in surprise and stumbles back, her guard down, allowing me to grab her wrist, twist, and throw her over my shoulder, where she lands on the training pad with a gasp.

I straighten up, panting hard, my hand shaking, and Sparrow claps from the sidelines. "Yo! Nice one, Cassy!" He shouts where he sits on the ground, resting from his last sparing match. "Though, I have to wonder," he asks as he hauls himself to his feet, "why exactly are we using the Atlas training facilities to work out instead of the gym?"

I help Sky to her feet, wiping the sweat from my face with the back of my hand. "Because the gym just has weights and strength exercises. There isn't enough room to spar like this," I note, gesturing to the large room around us.

Doctor Bryce informed me the day we arrived that we were welcome to use both the gym and the training facilities. When Sparrow asked him why would a bunch of research nerds need either of these things, Doctor Bryce nervously laughed it off, which tells me that Atlas likely put these installations in soon after they took over.

The Atlas training facility is pretty large with plenty of space for multiple sparring matches to go on at once, a few racks with practice weapons, and every night, they set it up as a makeshift shooting range, which Sky, Sparrow, and I aren't allowed into. It took me a week just to convince David to let us spar here, and he only allows us to for an hour a day so long as we leave when the Atlas soldiers come in to practice.

He probably doesn't want us getting any ideas, but I managed to convince him that we would need to stay in shape if we were to remain in the lower levels.

"It's a shame they won't let us use the practice weapons," Sparrow pouts, staring longingly at the rubber swords and knives on the racks.

Sky grabs a towel and wipes her face free of sweat, then drapes it over her shoulders. "We all know why they won't," she growls as Sparrow grabs the clipboard next to him.

"Looks like you guys have tied again this week," he chuckles, showing us the scoreboard he's sketched out for this month.

He hands it to me to look over, but my hand shakes too bad, and the clipboard drops, clattering to the ground. Sky and Sparrow glance at one another as I stead my hand, picking up the clipboard with my good hand.

I sigh, staring at the scar that quivers as I flex my fingers. It's been three months since we came to the CDC, and I've slowly begun rehabilitating my hand. It's slow work, which is much more frustrating than I imagined it would be, and the memory of the psycho who inflicted it only pisses me off.

"You okay, Cassandra?" Sky asks, assessing me with caution.

"Yeah. Fine," I grunt, handing her the scoreboard so I can sit down for a breather, grabbing a towel and wiping the sweat from my face. Sparrow gives me a water bottle, which I take gratefully, and I down half of it.

The door to the sparring room opens up and a familiar redheaded Atlas guard steps in. When he notices us, he stops in surprise. "Oh, I didn't realize that you were still here," he says apologetically.

Sparrow sighs dreamily, and I roll my eyes. "It's fine, Quentin, we were just finishing up." I stand up, draping the towel over my shoulder. "It's all yours."

Quentin smiles at us, then walks over to the training racks to grab a practice spear. He gives it a few test twirls, grins, and sets it down to take his shirt off.

Sparrow's face goes red as he stares, mouth agape, and I roll my eyes again, grabbing him by the ear and leading the way out of the sparring room while he complains the entire time. Once the three of us are out of the room and the door is closed, I let go of Sparrow and glare at him.

"Atlas. Soldier." I growl. "Or did you forget that David ordered this guy to babysit us this entire time?"

Sparrow stares longingly at the door to the training room and sighs, "I've never had a babysitter this hot before."

"Alright, lover-boy," Sky groans. "Hit the shower, you wreak. I'm sure Doctor Bryce is expecting us for more blood tests later today."

Sparrow groans as we head back to our rooms to shower off. If it weren't for the fact that we're trapped here, an actual shower with hot running water would be a blessing. The bathrooms are the only place I've seen in the area's where David allows us to go that I haven't seen any security camera's, and any time Sky, Sparrow, and I have to talk about our plans to leave, it's always in the rec room with the music blasting off.

I sigh as the water runs over my skin. We've been here for three months, and David hasn't let us leave the lower levels of the facility this entire time. Sky, Sparrow, and I spar every day in the training facility, but I can tell that they're less and less inclined to fight me the longer we stay.

I don't blame them. While we've been stuck here as lab rats, the Widow's have taken Dani and Josh who knows where. Just the thought of Dani makes me numb. She and Josh sacrificed themselves to get us here, to deliver the locket to safety, and it turns out that the CDC is more dangerous than a Widow camp.

I miss her every day. I haven't been able to get a good night's rest since she was taken, and since my little brother was murdered. I lean against the wall of the shower, letting the water glide off my chest. Losing Felix and Dani and Josh less than twenty-four hours apart has taken more of a toll than surviving this hot mess of an outbreak. And now we're stuck in a heavily guarded compound led by my estranged bastard of a father who pretends like he never had any other children besides me.

I want to punch him in the throat and throw him to the Feral's outside. Because of him, I haven't been able to get any leads on Dani or Josh, and trying to dig up information on my mother is more dangerous than walking into a pit of starving Ferals.

Doctor Bryce and I have had very few chances to talk since that first day, but he did make good on his word and gave me a list of the last people who had a locket, as well as their last known locations. Not that it does me much good all the way down here.

I rinse off the soap and towel dry my hair, which is in desperate need of a cut. I stand in front of the mirror, staring at the various scars dotting my skin. The one on my forehead and lip and neck, the day I first met Dani and Josh. Looking back on the memory, it was a rather funny misunderstanding, though we never really did find out who would win in a one on one match between Dani and myself.

I stare at the scars on my legs, one from that bear trap before I met everyone, and the other from when Dani and I were trapped in that small shack this past winter. I almost told her how I felt that day. I wanted to. I should have. Maybe we would have had more time together if I did. I sigh, knowing that dwelling on 'what if's wouldn't do me any good. I get dressed for the day, begrudgingly wearing the clothes provided by the Atlas soldiers.

If I can stay on David's good side, it'll speed up the process of us getting the Hell out of here and finding Dani and Josh, and maybe my mother. Wandering down the halls of the compound, I nod vaguely to the scientists and Atlas guards who regard me. Perhaps the only perk of being known as David's only surviving kid is that no one really questions me, but I hate the privileges that come with it, especially being forced to eat with that bastard every night.

I've come to the conclusion that, as long as I agree with what he says and pretend to listen to him, it sates him long enough to get him off my back.

But Quentin is a different problem. David assigned the young man to 'protect' us and make sure that we're comfortable during our stay. The Atlas guard acts kind enough towards us, even going so far as to humor Sparrow in his flirtatious fumblings. I'm not even sure if Quentin is aware of Sparrow's affection, but I trust that guard about as much as I trust a Widow.

Everywhere Sky, Sparrow, and I go, he always shows up, either to watch us, join in on whatever it is we're doing, or just for an idle chat. The only thing I've been able to learn about him, other than the fact that he works for my father, is that he had a younger sister back before the infection. He never told us what happened to her, but I can assume that she's likely not around anymore.

The thought is disheartening, reminding me painfully of Felix, and I shake my head as I reach Doctor Bryce's office. The door is cracked open, and I can hear Bryce speaking with David.

"I just need a little more time, sir," I hear Bryce's nervous voice say.

"We're very quickly running out of time, Doctor Bryce," David's harsh voice answers coldly. "Either expand your efforts, or I'll be forced to find someone else to finish your work for you."

Doctor Bryce squeaks a response that sounds like a 'Yessir,' and I quickly move out of the way as David walks out of the office. He pauses when he notices me, and he gives me an almost friendly grin in greeting.

"Cassandra," he greets smoothly. "When you're done with Doctor Bryce, meet me in my office, I'd like to speak with you."

I nod, forcing myself to smile back. Apparently satisfied with my response, he wanders off down the hall, the lab-coats and guards saluting him as he walks off.

I glare after him until he rounds the corner, then enter Bryce's office. Bryce is sitting slumped at his desk, idly writing something down in his notebook.

I clear my throat to get his attention, and he jumps, dropping his pen. "Oh, Cassandra! I wasn't expecting you so early," he greets, eyeing the door I came through.

"I figured it would be best to get the blood tests out of the way early today, if that's okay with you," I reply, closing the door behind me.

"Yes, yes, now is probably the best time. Uh, go ahead and take a seat, I'll make this brief," he stands up to get his supplies, and I sit as instructed, watching him fumble with the syringe.

"You never did tell me what these tests are for," I say, trying to get more information out of him.

He hurries over to my side and cleans the crook of my elbow, prepping it for withdraw. "Mister Leung is trying to speed up the cure synthesis since we still haven't found what we needed," he responds.

"What does my friends' blood have to do with the synthesis? Or mine?" I ask.

He glances around as he gently sticks the syringe in my arm, and I wince at the pain. "Before we move to human trials, we have to test to see how the infection works within the blood of humans, that way, we can better understand what's going on. Then, we can move onto the creation of the cure."

I know he's not telling me everything due to the various camera's and mics hidden all throughout the facility, but if I press for answers, it would only get us all in trouble.

He draws the blood and carefully empties it into a vial, sealing it away in a strange-looking container. He comes back to clean up my arm, whispering low. "It's almost time, Cassandra. Let your friends know that it's tomorrow night. You'll know when to do it," he places a bandaid over the small puncture wound and stands back. "After all, you wouldn't want to miss the Cheif's special!" He says it a little loud for the mics, but I get the picture.

"Yay, mystery meat, my favorite," I say with sarcasm, rolling my eyes.

"Come now, it's not that bad! I'm sure there's some actual meat in that meatloaf he makes!"

I chuckle, shaking my head, but I shake his hand and leave the office, heading for David.

Tomorrow night. We'll finally be able to leave this place and start our new mission, and hopefully find Dani and Josh. I sigh, glancing down at the bandaid. I just hope they're still alive.

Before I know it, I'm standing at David's door. I give it a knock, and his voice answers almost immediately, beckoning me to enter.

"You wanted to talk to me, sir?" I ask, poking my head in his office.

"Yes. Come in, have a seat," he's looking away from me, watching the scientists and guards at work on the floor below us.

I take a tentative seat in the chair across from David's desk, glancing around.

"How have you been sleeping?" He asks, turning to face me with a small smile.

I scoff. "Why don't you look at the security camera you put in my room?"

He chuckles. "I'm sure you understand why it's there," he moves to sit at his desk, lounging without a care in the world. "Ever since Emily left, taking some of my people with her, I've had to keep a close eye on everyone left. You see, everyone here has a critical role to play in what we're hoping to accomplish."

"And what's that?"

He grins, holding his hands out in a gesture. "World peace, of course." He folds his hands back in his lap. "We know that a cure exists, though your mother took it for her own selfish gain. Seeing as how we have no idea where she is, we must make one from scratch with what we already know."

"That could take years," I counter. "By the time you actually find something, there won't be enough people left to distribute it."

"See, that's where you and your friends come in," he levels me with a false look of admiration, and it borders on sinister.

Does he know that we're planning on escaping? Did Doctor Bryce rat us out?

"What are you talking about?" I venture.

"Please," he shakes his head. "I know that you've been planning on escaping ever since you got here. Subtly has never been Bryce's area of expertise."