We return to Entrance Five, out of breath and enlivened. The first thing we do when we get back is return our weapons back to their Arsenal. Then, we run off to tell the hospital staff about Vivian's discovery. Within ten minutes, shifts are organized to send people above ground at the different Entrances.

It feels so good to breathe again. To breathe because those dreams were drowning me in fear.

Vivian and I return to our beds and sleep, gaining back all of our lost strength. When I wake up again, I'm so relieved I didn't hit my head on the top bunk, I smile dumbly at the chipped bars. Haha, take that, stupid bed.

I smile wider. It feels great to be sarcastic again.

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After bathing and washing up, Vivian and I are rewarded her cure. Since the shelter is running out of just about everything, we don't get a physical prize. Instead, we're allowed to listen to a live video feed of the USA-European treaty negotiation. The sergeants and nurses couldn't thank Vivian enough for her "honorable and patriotic way of informing the authorities about the life-saving poison cure."

At about noon the next day, Vivian and I are summoned to the negotiation sit-in room. Commander Nidic leads us to a hidden room in which we descend a tall ladder guiding us deep underground. The journey is nearly identical to the one I took with Daniel in Entrance Six nearly 11 months ago.

As we travel down the tunnel, I swear I hear Danny's voice calling my name. Though I ignore it, I can't help but wonder if I was imagining or hallucinating the sound.

Along the way, the commander mumbles under his breath about teenagers and top-secret information. When he steps off the ladder, he grudgingly shows us the path down the hall.

"How do you even power all the lights down here?" Vivian asks bluntly.

"Movement turbines and solar panels," Commander Nidic retorts protectively, as if we were convicts. He must be very passionate about his precious turbines.

Vivian rolls her eyes as we follow the commander to the last door in the hall. He twists the knob and pushes it open.

"And no talking in there. The commanders must communicate their opinions to the ITT with complete silence," says Commander Nidic. He silently closes the door behind us. I roll my eyes again, disliking the man more and more.

I initially expect high-tech machines to fill the sit-in room, but only one tech screen is present. Three commanders sit silently at a table, watching the negotiation on a single table monitor. Black devices shine in their ears and near their mouthes.

I peer over their uniformed shoulders. The people on the screen, including General Fadhill, are in a plain room filled with frustrated faces. Unfamiliar leaders sit on the opposite side of the table, boredom present in their expressions. Hanging on a wall nearby is a map of the Unified States of America with a purple line drawn near the Mississippi River. One part of the country is blue while the other is red.

Vivian and I quietly enter the room, taking up the two chairs behind the commanders. Nod at us quietly, the commanders resume talking in their headsets to communicate their thoughts. I motion to Vivian, grabbing the two headsets from the table. I hand her one of them, and we put them on.

The sound of clicking keys and whispering voices fill our ears. I nearly lose it when I think I hear Matt's voice. I have to clasp my hands over my mouth to keep from freaking out, but none of the commanders notice. The ITT researchers type furiously in my left ear as the negotiation play in my right.

A mediator announces the total progress of the meeting. "The Unified States has agreed to split their country into two parts: the western half for Europe to divide amongst themselves and the eastern part for the USA to keep. As a punishment for Europe's use of chemical weapons, the USA can Hawaii. However, both countries must share the Mississippi River. The USA will owe no more money to Europe in exchange for Allen Sheops's legal asylum in France."

Each half of the table nods its heads. General Fadhill grimaces at the mentioning of Sheops's freedom, but it doesn't seem like he can do anything about it. The USA is deadlocked in an unfair agreement caused by Sheops himself.

The mediator continues. "Both sides of the war agree to stop all conflict. The allied Perimeter Powers will receive repayment for their weapons from both the Unified States and Europe. All bombs, chemical weapons, and destructive artillery besides for traditional hand weapons will be deactivated by Antarctica, the neutral party."

All heads nod in agreement once more. The mediator asks if there are any final concerns that should be addressed, and the representatives are launched into a debate about plans to move USA citizens to the east.

I begin to zone out a bit, focusing on the faint ITT voices in the headsets. The thought of Matt on the other side of the mic makes me relived and anxious at the same time.

After the USA, Europe, and the rest of the world agree on keeping only one emergency bomb each, I excuse myself to go to the bathroom. Taking my headset with me, I can continue to listen to the negotiations.

The shelter's hallway is empty, mostly because it's sealed off from the rest of the world. I pace the hall soundlessly, wracking my brain for a way to contact Matt. I can't just ask for him to answer the line. The workers would definitely grow suspicious and cut off the connection.

After another 30 seconds of desperate thinking, I remember the number Matt said was his identification code: number 101. I recall it because I joked to him about how impossible it is to live until you're 101 years old.

I form a practice sentence in my mind, preparing to speak. When I say the phrase, I speak evenly like an ISA agency employee. "Connect me to line 101."

Immediately, Matt's voice rings out as the negotiating noises disappears. "Line 101," he declares as monotonously as he can.

"Mattie Cakes."

"Ashley?" I hear Matt gasp. The scratching of a chair on the floor sounds into my headset. Then an automatic doors opens and closes."Hey, Ashley. Geez, I was so scared I'd never see you again. How did you get a headset to call me with?"

"It's a long story, and I don't think we have that long to talk," I say. Assuming I left the negotiation room five minutes ago, I think I have another 15 minutes or so to talk with Matt.

"How are mom and the others?" I ask before I lose my chance. I pace around the hall again, heading away from the room with all the commanders.

"Mom's hanging in there. John and Finn and Mandy are okay. We all miss you a lot though."

"Aw, I miss you guys, too," I say, feeling a pang in my heart. My siblings are almost a year older now, and it's been so long since I saw them all in person. I've been absent from so much of their lives.

"Well this whole thing should be over soon anyways," Matt says. "We'll see you soon, right?"

"I hope so. You probably know all about the treaty debates."

"Yeah, of course. Just give me a second, and I'll check what's going on right now." The line buzzes for a couple of painful seconds before Matt's voice returns to my ear.

"General Fadhill just signed the treaty," he says, pausing for a moment. I run my fingers along the cold ladder I took to the sit-in room. "Do you want me to connect you with--"

A giant boom deafens my ears, and the line buzzes. I whip off the headset and scan the hall, scared that someone just bombed us. Silence ominously surrounds me. No dust falls from above; no cracks in appear in the walls.

I shove the earpiece back in my ear. The line buzzes loudly.

"Matt?" I say over the buzzing. My voice roughens in panic. "Matt? Hello? Can you hear me?"

The line buzzes.

I jog towards the room with the commanders. Maybe it's just a technical issue. I hope the line returns so I can speak with Matt again, but a tech error wouldn't explain the explosive sound.

Explosive.

Explosive.

This can't be happening. No no no, this can't be happening.

I stumble towards the podcast room, bursting through the door. Vivian gives me a wide look, but the other commanders don't even glance at me. They type quickly on a keyboard I didn't spot before, and all of their headsets lay abandoned on the table. My eyes dart to the screen. The monitor shows an angry General Fadhill yelling at the mediator and the European representatives.

"What's going on?" I ask, still standing in the open doorway. "What was that explosion?"

No one answers or looks at me except Vivian. She asks me to sit down. I remain standing, the silence and eeriness stifling my senses. Then a single answer pops into my head.

"They're dead, aren't they?" I ask, banging the door shut. It all makes sense in some sick sort of way. The commanders jump out of their skin and stop typing. "Hawaii's dead, isn't it?"

The commanders don't have to say a word. The looks in their eyes along with the dryness in my mouth says it all. The nauseating feeling in my stomach threatens to take over.

General Fadhill's yells suddenly emitted from the monitor's speakers. "--agreed on stopping the war! Bombing an island with hundreds of defenseless Americans is murder. It's a declaration of war!"

"No it is not. The bomb is the world's declaration of a war ended. Hawaii was the only place on Earth left unscathed by war. The world cannot heal together if we aren't all hurt."

The Europeans each thrust out their hands to the General, ready to officially agree on the treaty's requirements. General Fadhill refuses to touch them, and he demands compensation for the lives lost. The mediators decides against it. Eventually, General Fadhill and the other generals are forced to shake on the existing deal. The negotiations end, and the screen goes black.

I stare at the empty screen. Why am I not crying? Why am I not broken down on the floor? I feel a fiery, burning anger inside me. I gaze at the black screen for a few more seconds before tearing off the headset and pelting the wall with it. I storm out of the room, Vivian on my heels. Once we make it back to our poorly-lit room, I slam myself on my bed, face-down.

I am alone. No dad, no mom, no brothers, no sister. I am alone in this cruel, messed-up world.

The anger inside me loses its fire. The facts settle in. Matt was killed right next to me. His voice was in my ears, his optimism unaware of what was coming: death. I imagine him lying in the ruins, half-dead, immobile. Helpless.

And that's when the tears start coming.

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