“She's not going to back down very easily,” I assert. “And it's only a matter of time until she's going to take advantage of our weak spots and troubles us even more. She is a very determined person, and if she keeps up with the same power she's going at right now . . .” My lip trembles as a nightmarish realization settles down on my mind. “Then we might not be able to win this war.” Slowly, I look up at him, and my breath hitches as I see the sorrow etched in his eyes, his eyebrows tugged together in thought. In one slow motion, they land on me, the muscle in his jaw twitching as his lips curl down, almost agonizingly. I think, at first, that he is going to refute my bold claim—maybe reassure me that that is not going to happen, that we are all going to make it out alive, and that we will easily put an end to my mother's ever-growing army. But he remains quiet instead. As if he silently agrees with me. IT HAS BEEN TWO weeks since the ERUSA defeated the Reformers, and Detroit is destroyed. With heads hung low, the Reformers retreat to a safety regime in El Paso, Texas, where they must figure out a way to take the ERUSA down once and for all. But at what costs?