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After the shock of finding him in the basement laboratory wore off, I loudly let everyone know Kyle and I were neighbors, and nothing more. God forbid anyone—particularly Brannon—somehow got the impression we were friends. Or worse: Dating. Much to my relief, he agreed we’d only ever met in passing.

We didn’t really know each other at all.

Doctor Laura marched us into the lounge off the main hall, a room untouched by intruders but no less messy. She sped ahead to a board on the wall, a podium rewarding good behavior with sparkling Velcro stars. Nuñez lost his minuscule lead when she yanked two markers from his position and slapped them under Kyle’s name instead. The silent punishment hit like a bullet grazing his heart, but Brannon didn’t even flinch when half his points met the same fate. It didn’t matter as much. He didn’t have many to begin with.

I sat between Nuñez and Kyle on their musty couch. The three of us got comfortable as the doctor deposited her oldest boy in a dented folding chair beside the card table to our right.

“What happened to your face?” She grabbed his chin and tilted the nick on his cheekbone toward a lamp.

Next to me, Nuñez shifted with his mouth turned down and eyes on the floor. “He woke me up too fast. I didn’t mean—”

Doctor Laura reached over to squeeze his hand, but didn’t let him finish. “It’s okay, D. You don’t have to apologize. He’s smarter than that.”

Brannon agreed, rubbing the back of his head. “I should’ve ducked.”

They dropped the subject as I subtly scooted closer to my neighbor. I was beginning to get the idea that Nuñez was far more dangerous than I’d guessed.

Brannon flipped on a radio sitting in front of him, and the same station that’d played in the car filled the room with static. In the name of cooperation, or—more accurately—before anyone told him not to, Kyle gave me a rundown of the group I found myself with.

N.E.R.D., or Nanomolecular Engineering Research and Development, got its cheesy nickname from poor planning on Doctor Laura’s part. The C.I.A. affiliated defense initiative marked its tenth anniversary in late summer. She left a tenured position at Cornell to come to San Francisco to pursue advancements in experimental gene manipulation and biological adaptations. The U.S. government chose her to shepherd its miracle serum, a magic potion for soldiers meant to make them stronger and faster than their enemies.

Too bad for her, the well of enthusiasm for creating super G.I. Joes dried up when progress ground to a standstill after a few years. Her fellow researchers deserted one by one until she found herself flying solo. During that time, some unknown entity with an absurdly high clearance level acquired the project and allowed her to stay. No one cared if she kept toiling away, so long as she kept her head down and didn’t bother anybody too much.

She started fresh with the help of Brannon’s predecessor, a field operative assigned from N.E.R.D.’s new Day One to protect her and the laboratory from harm. Nuñez came to her after enough well-written complaints convinced her mysterious overseer she needed someone to fix her outdated equipment. Soon after that, Kyle showed up on her doorstep with a PhD obtained at fourteen—and she took him as an intern because his father held an influential position somewhere in the Capitol.

Doctor Laura’s lips thinned when she got to Brannon, who replaced her first guard last Christmas. He stirred in his chair and tried to hide a guilty frown.

A meager housing stipend, prepaid bills, and sporadic supply shipments in unmarked boxes sustained their program. These materials included the blue base of her most recent serum—a strange plant byproduct the color of my blood.

Maybe it was from a plant.

That was her Ivy League guess.

The two scientists spent most days conducting experiments. Nuñez played video games and occasionally tinkered with broken electronics. Did Brannon join his partner in two-player campaigns across virtual worlds when he wasn’t busy moping or exercising? There wasn’t much else for him to do.

Until that morning.

She finished her depressing tale and went to fetch a first aid kit from the small kitchen across the hall. When Doctor Laura returned, the man in her care sent me a mean look before he told her about our collision in the doorway of my apartment.

I gathered her last name was Baba from the faded patch on her jacket, tinged pink from the stain Kyle’s head left near her heart. Perhaps Brannon didn’t call her that because he thought it sounded like a toddler’s nickname for their grandma. I wanted to ask him later, even if I didn’t expect a straightforward answer.

He didn’t turn back to the couch before he switched gears to start his briefing, content the three of us would listen to him and remain still like browbeaten children at a fancy dinner party.

“We’re going to start from the beginning. Zero hour this morning or before. That means you, Kyle. Go.”

His recollection of events spewed out to preface mine perfectly. He’d been in the lab by himself the night before, starting around eleven after Doctor Laura went home, conducting a few unsupervised tests because he felt like it.

“Why didn’t you wait until morning?” Brannon prickled, glaring at him. “You know you’re not supposed to be down here by yourself. You don’t have the proper training for emergency situations like—”

Doctor Laura knocked the flat of her hand against the side of his head, intent on protecting her young assistant from his tirade.

“Turn around and hold still.”

Brannon obeyed with little more protest than an ouch and a groan. He tensed as she moved her fingers down his forearm to inspect his puffy hand.

“You know we’ve never had an incident here. I can’t think of one. When was the last time we turned the elevator lock on before today? Hell, I figured the whole world forgot about us,” she said. “And don’t pretend like you didn’t, too. It’s not like we ever thought he’d need to know how to shoot a gun or to—”

Kyle was foolish enough to talk over her. “Thanks. I know it was—”

“Oh, I’m not finished,” she laid into him. “You should’ve been safe, but I know you know better than to play with lab equipment while I’m not around. I’m angry. Make no mistake. I’m just glad you’re still with us.”

He slunk back, deflated.

Brannon inhaled sharply as the doctor pressed on his wrist and knuckles to assess the damage I’d done. “Okay, so what happened next?”

“I was here, and, uh—” Kyle pushed past the foggy nature of his concussion. “All of a sudden I heard a huge crash in the lobby. The next thing I knew some guys were coming through the door and grabbing our stuff. I tried to fight them off, but one shoved me into the tank, and I hit my head.” He paused to massage the dried blood-covered bump on the back of his skull. “Then it just goes black.”

His voice broke as the memory of his terrible ordeal threatened to overwhelm him.

“I swear, that’s all I remember.”

Brannon wanted more. “Did you get a good look at them? Did they say anything to you? Anything at all?”

“No. They were talking, but it happened so fast. I can’t remember a word they said. Not specifically.”

“They sounded American,” I offered. “At least, the guys I saw did. I heard them speaking English. Bad English, but still. Like, Me Tarzan. You Jane. Does that make sense?”

“Yes,” said Doctor Laura. She’d moved onto constructing a makeshift cast with tongue depressors and gauze. “Slowed and impaired cognitive function is one of the first indicators of a failed test.”

I cocked an eyebrow at her from the couch, in total control of my mind.

She rushed to correct her previous statement. “That is, before you. And I’m not kidding when I say that’s a damn miracle. I still need to figure out exactly how you came in contact with my serum in the first place. Something about the delivery must have gone just right. You’re sure you don’t feel any different?” She started firing off questions, spraying them like a machine gun. “No difficulty concentrating? No muscle pain, disorientation, or nausea? No lack of impulse control? Unusually aggressive urges? Or lustful ones?”

I looked up at Brannon and tried not to give myself away. Bright, bitter fireworks exploded between us whenever our eyes met, dimming the stars I saw at the same time. Thoughts of his fingers laced with mine in the hallway outside my apartment invaded every pause in the air.

I’d had instant crushes before, but all with specific origins. Like my obsession with the girl who kicked dirt in a bully’s eyes in fourth grade, or the boy in AP Calculus who smiled instead of laughing at me the day I wore my first Angelic Pretty dress to school. I couldn’t come up with any redeeming qualities for the handsome jackass who redirected the conversation for me.

“You’ll get your turn later, Laura,” he said with too much bravado for someone at the mercy of a disgruntled medic.

Instead of dealing payback by jostling him, she sighed and kept working as he started again.

“Holly, it’s your turn to tell me everything. Don’t skip a single detail. What time did you run across the mutants in the park?”

I tried to remember the hour I’d viewed on my phone while dialing 911. “I’m not sure. Maybe twelve-thirty? It was a little bit later, I think.”

“Their injections must have been administered almost immediately after the break-in,” said Doctor Laura. “But why would anyone perform experiments in motion rather than just staying here? And why leave Kyle as a witness?”

“A smash-and-grab operation has to be executed quickly,” Brannon said. “You have to prepare for rapid retaliation from the enemy target. If our security was any better—and they would’ve planned for the best—then getting in and out in a hurry was crucial. I’m sure they wanted to avoid detection by an armed response team.”

“What about me?” Kyle squeaked.

“Honest answer? They probably thought you were dead.”

“Yeah.” He gulped. “That’s what I thought.”

Brannon continued. “Leaving was a smart move on their part, but we still have no idea how they managed to make it back up to Pacific Heights so soon. Or why they were headed that way in the first place. We don’t even have a complete headcount.”

“At least five,” said Nuñez. All eyes fell on him as he finally spoke up. “Let’s say I’m a mad scientist working on the move. I’d probably want plenty of room. Like a big RV, or something. And, you know, another person to hold my subjects down. If they became, uh—uncooperative.”

“The mutants—” I counted on my fingers. “Plus one driver.”

“And two agents in the back,” said Brannon. “Since Holly ran into them solo, there’s a good chance their handlers didn’t get very far carrying their rabid passengers. When they got loose, anyone who saw them wandering around probably thought they were in costumes. Nuñez, I’ll have you look for strange posts on social media and hack into the city’s traffic cam database. You can start digging when we’re done here. Look for odd photographs and vehicles with cabs large enough to carry at least two med bays. Concentrate on accidents and unmarked vans.”

“Got it,” he said.

Brannon didn’t acknowledge him before he came back to me.

“You were walking through the park, and then what?”

“That’s it,” I said. “They saw me and ran over, foaming at the mouth, and screaming insults before they started pushing me around.”

Curiosity claimed Doctor Laura. “What did they look like? Deformed?”

The creatures I’d encountered were larger, more ambulatory versions of the blobs swimming in her tanks. They were people, but barely. The question surprised me.

“Don’t you know? I mean, shouldn’t you?”

She wrung her hands. “It’s never been tested on humans before. The furthest we’ve ever gotten is those fish out front, and they’re all a bit—misshapen.”

“They didn’t look like me, if that’s what you’re asking. They were huge. Really muscular, but weak and uncoordinated. That’s why I managed to get away. I hit one in the shoulder, and he tripped and fell. Then the other went for me again, and that’s when I stabbed him.”

I had a sneaking suspicion I’d left out a few details, but I couldn’t remember which ones. The clothes they wore and the shades of the sparse hairs left on their stretched scalps seemed insignificant.

Brannon nodded, apparently satisfied with my description.

“And let me guess,” she said. “That’s when he exploded.”

I confirmed with a grimace. “It was like a horror movie. I got soaked with blood and guts. I’m almost positive that’s how I got infected. I had these fresh scrapes on my knees…”

She sighed. “I need to run some tests, but I will say this. You’re very, very lucky. You were probably safe in your bed during the stabilization process. Even the smallest scratch could’ve killed you then. That’s what happens to most of the fish. First they bloat and ooze while the cells of their musculoskeletal systems expand. They’re supposed to return to normal shape and size, but that never happens. And if you poke them to take a sample even a second too soon—boom!”

She mimed the action of the noise she made and fury burst within me. I wound up to smack Nuñez before reason kicked in.

“You cut me when you knew there was a chance I might blow up?”

He leapt from the couch and I missed him, but the forward motion of my arm carried me off-balance. My palm crashed down against his cushion and the springs inside the pillow flattened with a bang. He flew toward Doctor Laura and Brannon, yelping like a sorority girl with the misfortune of finding a hairy spider in her favorite pair of boots. The bandaged agent—in better spirits with his hand encased in soft cotton—laughed while his caretaker adopted a worried frown.

“New rule,” said Doctor Laura. “Holly, every time you get mad and feel like hitting either of them,” she pointed to the N.E.R.D. sitting beside her—whose smile vanished, and the other huddled nearby, “you tell Kyle and he’ll do it for you. Okay? I have a feeling it’s going to be often, so you’ll both get plenty of practice.”

We agreed, for safety’s sake.

“I just knew you were different.” Nuñez crossed back to sit on the armrest, careful to remain a few inches out of my reach. “None of the fish, even the ones that survive their injections, ever look the same when Doc’s done. You’re totally normal, and you walked away completely unhurt after destroying that robber in the deli. I was sure, after all that, there was no way you’d go nuclear. It wouldn’t hurt you. Am I right?”

“I guess not.” I touched my healed cheek. “I didn’t really feel anything at all.”

Doctor Laura looked like she wanted a pen and paper to take notes with. Relief washed over Nuñez.

“You were it. The Chosen One.” He made air quotes around the cliché. “That’s bullshit, but you know what I’m saying.”

The half-smile I used to apologize for attacking him manifested more constipated than remorseful. Embarrassed, I turned back to Doctor Laura.

“So, I’m fine, for right now. It sounds like. Are you sure I’ll stay that way until you can fix me?”

Activity in the room fizzled. Brannon and Nuñez waited for the resident science experts to speak.

“I don’t know if we can.” Kyle kept his gaze on the floor, counting the fibers in his shoelaces.

My heart sank. “What do you mean?”

Doctor Laura took over for him. “Our work has been about finding the solution to make supersoldiers.” She twisted her hands, but held eye contact. “I’m not sure I thought we’d ever get that far. After so many years of no success, reversing the serum—like Kyle said—I don’t even know if it’s possible.”

Without a second thought as to whether or not it made me look like a giant crybaby, I started sobbing again. Heavy tears fell on my tulle skirt. I pictured the years ahead of me filled with untold instances of tearing brand, destroying furniture, injuring strangers and friends alike, and various other calamities caused by my new powers.

“You mean,” I said between shallow breaths, “I’m stuck like this?”

“Oh, honey,” cooed Doctor Laura. The pitter-patter of her feet on the rug atop the concrete floor assaulted my hyper-attuned hearing. “I’m so sorry. You never asked for any of this.”

She sat on the damaged couch cushion and wrapped her soft arms around me. Her kind hands found and stroked my hair, taking extra care not to catch the strands matted by bits of burglar blood. This soothing gesture stilled my heaving chest for a second, until Brannon broke through the warmth of her embrace with more coarse practicality.

“You can boo-hoo later,” he said without any of the same understanding Doctor Laura, Nuñez, or even Kyle seemed to show. “Now’s not the time.”

I tried to strike him down with a glare. Maybe if I concentrated hard enough I’d scald him with lasers shot from my eyes. I didn’t want to admit it, but he was right. Self-pity didn’t help us with another mutant on the run. If the escapee survived long enough to report back to his masters, they might realize my shower in blue guts made me like him—and better.

Even so close to Halloween, I stood out amongst the polyester princesses roaming the streets in search of booze and candy. San Francisco was home to several other girls who wore extravagant Japanese dresses every day, but I knew a group of trained commandos wouldn’t have trouble singling me out.

I untangled myself from Doctor Laura, stiffened my upper lip, and packed down the rest of my tears before addressing Brannon again. She’d told the truth earlier.

He was the only one of us capable of running a military operation.

“What do we do next? Are there people we can get in touch with? For help?”

My logical conclusion set him on edge. His knees shook with bottled energy. “No. We’ve got to take care of this by ourselves. No outside involvement. Not yet. Not at all, if we can help it.”

“Dude,” said Nuñez, “we might be in over our heads here. Don’t you think—?”

“If we make that call, then the people in charge will know just how badly we screwed up.” Brannon stood his ground. “And you can bet your ass the minute they’re convinced we’re a bunch of incompetent douchebags, they’ll have those thugs running black ops down here to clean us out. No questions asked. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m not willing to let some man on the phone tell a ghost to put a bullet in my skull to cover his own damn tracks.”

Doctor Laura fidgeted. “I don’t follow.”

“Think about it. Either we find the missing mutant and track down his makers, or they get to him first and disappear. If they get away with our tech, and intelligence finds out, who do you think that comes back to? As far as I know, we’re the only people working on supersoldiers. That makes us the obvious source of the leak. We’re fucked coming and going. We’ve got to work together to make this problem go away.”

The others stared at him with transparent concern.

“Because if we don’t—” He became more serious than ever. “Odds are we’re all dead. Except for Holly. I have a feeling we’re going to be stuck together for awhile. Worst case scenario, we lose the thieves like I said. If that happens, and she’s with us when the reckoning comes, those grim reapers will take her and stick her in a test tube to study for the rest of her life.”

That’s when fear crept up on me. There’d be no frills inside a secret prison where I’d be poked, prodded, and experimented on until death.

“We’ve got one chance. We catch whoever broke in and take back whatever they stole, whether it’s in a tube or a person. The easiest way to do that will be to go after the mutant. Now it’s a race. I’m sure they’ll be out there looking for him, and if they find him first it’s all over for us. They’ll skip town. Game over. If we succeed and do a good job of handling this quietly, then maybe the big guys will be grateful. They might even give Laura more funding.”

No one but me heard what he said next, all too busy exchanging meaningful looks as they considered his extreme proposition.

It didn’t help that none of them had super hearing, either.

“And maybe they’ll reward me with a position as far away from here as possible," Brannon whispered to himself.

Nuñez exhaled. “Alright. I’m in.”

“So am I,” said Kyle.

They all waited for Doctor Laura to agree.

“Where do we start?” She gave up all semblance of control. “We need some kind of plan.”

My vote hadn’t been counted during their summit. Perhaps that meant I was free to go. Lady luck, my greatest enemy, decided otherwise and appointed Brannon to deliver her verdict.

He stood abruptly, picked up his folding chair, and moved it in front of where I sat. As he took my hands in his—a gesture that made my breath catch—I saw past his calm exterior to the distress running deep to his core.

“Holly.” My name fell from his lips and reverberated toward me like a beam of blistering sunshine. “Right now you’re our greatest asset. As far as we know, that other mutant is still out there. If he’s just as strong as you are, we’re going to need your help to bring him in. I know you probably don’t want to hear this. It’s not ideal by any means, but the truth of the matter is this—you’re our best shot.”

I couldn’t believe it. I wasn’t cut out for espionage work, but Brannon wanted to deputize me as the fifth member of N.E.R.D.’s elite team. I had no combat training, I’d never held a gun in my life, and I knew nothing about tracking monsters and their fiendish handlers through an urban jungle. The prospect of killing again—even in the name of protecting the American public—made me feel sick. Not to mention, I’d have to work cooperatively and get to know new people.

That put me in more danger than any manhunt.

With my objections in place, I took one last look around the room. Four pairs of needy eyes begged me to stay. The serum coursing through my veins fogged my judgment. A heaping helping of guilt and peer pressure insisted I join up with them. I couldn’t refuse in good conscience.

“Fine.” I threw up both hands as those around me celebrated. “I’m in. I don’t want money, but you’ll have to compensate me for my time, and I need to know you’ll work on a cure. Or at least try to. Please.”

“Absolutely,” said Doctor Laura. “We can collect samples and get started right away.”

Brannon concluded his briefing by flicking his wrist at Nuñez. “Great. Take your demands up with our treasurer. I’m going outside for some air. I need to think.”

He stood and carried the radio out with him as the doctor returned his chair to the table.

She motioned for Kyle to sit with her. “Come on over here so we can get your head cleaned up a bit more. It’ll make you feel better.”

Doctor Laura’s intern obediently followed her to the other side of the room, and Nuñez seized his opportunity to begin. He retrieved an old laptop covered with meme stickers from the floor and took the redhead’s seat next to me.

“Let’s talk about what you want.” He smiled as the computer hummed to life. “Go ahead, hit me with it. I’m your man.”