A/N We’re at it again! So for the third challenge, KimHua and I once again developed a rough outline, went into our respective corners and wrote out how we think the story played out. Probably the most challenging challenge yet… it was very tricky to write… but then, what challenge is a challenge without a challenge? Read both and tell us what you think!

It was like waking up from a bad dream only to realize that reality isn’t any better.

Natasha’s eyes took in the destruction surrounding her and felt herself swallowed up inside of it: A mouse stuck in a discarded maze… ‘With a few hungry cats on her tail,’ she thought as she quickly glanced at the dust cloud behind her – another sign of loss and brokenness – and then turned her gaze to the sky.

‘Even time is against me,’ she thought as the sun made its escape behind the horizon of skeletal buildings. Then she sighed, as if blowing out the negative thoughts from her mind and pulling her back to the mantra the day had so deeply imbedded into her mind. ‘I need to get to safety.’

--

Journaling had always brought a sense of comfort to Natasha Jednyak from a very young age – and even more so after the Lunar Front’s occupation of most of Earth. The idea of having to be hidden every moment of her life carried no appeal and a deepened sense of solitude. Her journal had become her constant companion; evidence of her existence. With the LF having taken such a keen interest in finding her and the resistance fighting to keep her out of the cult’s clutches, Natasha needed all the comfort she could get.

Lately its pages had been occupied with intricate scrawl of the entire on-goings of her new haven – a small building entirely too big for the 15 souls concealed within it. “Resistance fighters” they call themselves. Natasha thought the term ironically amusing. What resistance is there in trying not to be seen? What fighting occurs when you scurry about like mice running from a hungry cat?

She sighed and let her pen come to a halt briefly. Maybe it wasn’t fair of her to be so critical of the very thing that protected her from the LF. That kept her from becoming another pawn that the LF can move about. No, it wasn’t good of her to be critical of that at all. Her back cracked as she stretched and Natasha exhaled a forceful breath from the sensation. She tilted her head slowly from side to side. Her long, ash-blonde hair fell freely over her face and this made her frown in annoyance. She quickly reached for an elastic band on her dressing table to tie her hair up. The idea of using such a thing made her grimace, but the luxury of using anything else was simply out of the question.

Natasha’s blue eyes drifted across her room. It was scarcely furnished and rather dusty. There was little point to cleaning as dust and plaster rained down frequently with every tremor of bombs and various military machines moving about the city; destroying it piece by piece. ‘It’s a wonder this place still stands,’ she thought grimly.

Through the paper-thin walls, Natasha heard the front door groan downstairs as someone yanked it open and slammed it shut again. The sound was followed by muffled shouting that sounded something like ‘sweep’ and ‘get out’.

Curious, she tiptoed to her door – as much as she could tiptoe in combats – and opened it slightly so she could hear. The door creaked a little, but not enough to draw anyone’s attention from below. Natasha had perfected the art of eavesdropping ever since her father delivered her to the group. As she wasn’t part of the ‘resistance’, much of the intelligence that flowed around was kept from her and that annoyed her considerably. She understood the arguments of her being ‘too young’ and that ‘this isn’t a game’ all too well, but she hated being excluded from anything. So she had taken it upon herself to try and ‘tap into’ as much as she could. Not that she was successful in getting anything worthwhile. At fourteen she had no real methods of gaining any information except for eavesdropping, but at least it kept the boredom down.

“No. No! There’s no time!” Thomas was shouting. “We have to get out now!” Natasha frowned. ‘Wasn’t Thomas supposed to be out scouting? What is he doing back here and what is he so hysterical about?’

Other voices joined his in urgent tones, but Natasha couldn’t make out what they were saying. She was tempted to creep closer, but knew that she’d most likely be caught if she tried. Finally, further arguments were silenced by a deep basso that could only have been Patrick’s – the leader of the group. His tone sounded as though he was issuing orders. Natasha heard something about ‘checking the cellar’, ‘gear’ and ‘take what you can’. ‘We’re leaving?’ she wondered as feet began scuffling about.

“Gaige, go get your sister,” Patrick’s voice floated towards her as if he was looking in the direction of the stairs.

‘Oh crap!’ Natasha barely had time to close the door silently before footsteps began thundering up the stairs. She quickly made her way back to her dresser table and sat in front of it as if she was still busy journaling. Her door opened a moment later.

Gaige Jednyak’s dark eyes carried a mixture of fearful anticipation and determination as they came to rest on his sister. His tall, muscular build seemed to fill the entire doorway as he entered her room and closed the distance between them in impossibly long strides.

“We’re leaving,” his rich tenor echoed in the empty room, his voice soft and surprisingly calm. “Come on.”

“What’s going on?” Natasha asked, looking up at her brother. Gaige had always been a quiet, gentle man of few words – so unlike his outward appearance. They had never been as close they could’ve been, but Gaige had carved a deep impression into her heart with his tender nature. “Are we running?”

Natasha – sliding her pen into the journal – clutched the journal, unsure whether she should take it with her or leave it behind. The thought of discarding it made her frown and she found herself looking for a bag or something – anything – she could take with her to carry the book in. Her eyes searched Gaige’s strong face questioningly when his large hand took the book from her.

“There’s no time for this,” he said simply, stuffing the journal into his jacket pocket. “They’re looking for us. They could be upon us within minutes. Now come.”

He grabbed her arm firmly, but gently, and began pulling her towards the door. Natasha had to almost jog to keep up with his firm stride. He let her go down the stairs first, urging her to move faster.

“It’s too late to run,” someone was saying. “Ayden spotted a walker coming straight this way.”

The foyer was crowded with armed and anxious resistance fighters hovering around their leader. Patrick was a man of average height and build with no real quality that made him stand out except for his natural ability to command. His dull blue eyes were intense as reports were shouted to him from the gathering fighters.

“Other houses have been warned, Cap.”

“Satchels are ready!”

“All right! With the walker approaching there’s little point in trying to make a duck for it,” Patrick’s eyes studied the faces around him as he spoke. “So we go with plan B. Stick to the plan, work together and don’t play the hero. We’ve got one shot at this. It’s either them or us, got it? Now, move out!”

The wooden floorboards creaked as the group began rushing outside. Patrick’s eyes flickered towards the pair as they reached the bottom of the stairs. “Take her underground, G. The hatch in the yard will take her to Darrel’s squad.”

“Yes, sir.”

Natasha saw her brother and Patrick exchange a nod before the latter turned, rifle in hand, and followed the others down the street.

“Wait here,” Gaige said as he moved past Natasha and disappeared into one of the rooms. He reappeared a few moments later; a large backpack strapped over his large shoulders and a submachine gun in his right hand. “Come.” He gestured with his head towards the open doorway and quickly moved towards it, scanning the perimeter quickly before stepping outside.

Almost all of the resistance fighters seemed to have moved east down the road as Natasha’s eyes regarded her surroundings. She could see Patrick also moving warily towards the direction of the others, using any nearby objects as cover.

And there were more than enough things to use for that.

The city had become a mere skeleton of its former self. What were once clear streets, beautiful gardens and parks were now all but destroyed. Everywhere were scattered remains of shattered buildings, burnt out wreckages of both civilian and military type vehicles as well as a few broken streetlamps.

They followed Patrick’s path until they reached a tall wooden fence with a very narrow gate. Gaige quickly unlatched the gate and forcefully pulled it open. The gate’s rusted hinges – unused to the force – suddenly gave way and fell towards them. Both siblings barely had time to leap out of the way before the gate crashed on the pavement where they had stood but a moment before. Gaige stared at the gate, slightly dumbfounded, while Natasha could only shake her head at him.

“Clumsy oaf,” she muttered under her breath. “Who needs the LF when we can just be killed by you?”

Gaige clucked his tongue at her and gave her an annoyed glance, but said nothing. Instead he carefully climbed over the gate and motioned for her to follow.

The small, dust-covered yard behind the fence was barely worth a second glance. Covered with debris and patches of overgrown grass, it gave away very little of what it was used for before. Gaige moved towards the back of it and bent down. Natasha gazed down curiously to find a small metal hatch well hidden among the surrounding rubbish and vegetation. She watched her brother as he threw open the hatch and then looked around cautiously – making sure that they weren’t being watched.

“This will lead you to another safe house,” Gaige said slowly and softly; his eyes still looking about every now and again. “The leader’s name is Darrel and he’ll keep an eye out for you until either Da’ or I come fetch you.” Natasha nodded as she moved towards the hole and cautiously climbed onto the ladder that led into the dark. “Move as fast as you can and remember what we’ve taught you.”

“Be careful,” she said, climbing lower down the ladder.

“You too, little one.” Her brother paused to look at her a moment longer before he closed the hatch.

--

Natasha grimaced as dirt rained over her; shaken loose by the shudder of the closing hatch. She remained motionless for a moment, waiting for the last dust to fall, before releasing a forceful breath and slowly continuing to feel her way down the ladder. With the hatch closed, she could see precious little of her surroundings, only the slightest hints of light filtering in.

‘Theyhad better have remembered to leave some flashlights down below,’ she grumbled inwardly, then frowned. What if they hadn’t? What if, with all the intense planning the resistance had put into their networks and backup plans, someone had forgotten to drop a few lights into this dark, dank hole? Or what if some moron had forgotten to switch off the flashlight and now the batteries had run out? Or, even worse, what if they forgot to put batteries in at all? What if there was no light below and she had no way to see? Would she be able to turn back? Was that allowed? The hatch certainly looked very heavy and it would take a lot of effort to throw open. What if she slipped while she was trying to open the hatch and tumbled all the way down to the ground? She would lie there, broken and bleeding with no one knowing where she was.

She clung to the metal ladder as these newfound fears rushed through her, her knuckles whitening under the force of her grip. ‘Get a hold of yourself, you silly girl!’ part of her chastised. ‘The quicker you get moving, the quicker you’ll be out of here.’

A slight sense of relief flooded over Natasha as her feet came to rest on solid ground, but the feeling was short-lived as the overpowering sense of dark surrounded her. None of the precious rays of sunlight reached here and she shivered nervously as she breathed in the stale, damp air. She shook herself lightly and began dusting off her blouse and jeans before she turned around, pressing her back firmly against the metal ladder.

‘Now, if I were a – hopefully fully charged and in prime condition – resistance hidden flashlight, where would I be?’ Natasha bit her lip nervously and tried to remember the little the resistance had tried to teach her about standard procedures.

“Oh!” she cried out as she remembered. The exclamation echoed loudly down the unseen passage. “Whoops,” she whispered as she covered her mouth with her hand. She reached towards her left and began feeling up and down the wall for a small hole. She had to stifle a cry of elation as her hands finally found what she was looking for: a small opening with two flashlights hidden within.

The passage seemed to expand around her as darkness fled from the bright light. She clutched the black, rubber-covered flashlight like a weapon as she gazed at the passage that lay ahead of her. The way appeared clear for the most part with only the slightest amount of rubble at some points which cast eerie shadows as the light fell upon it.

Natasha moved quickly down the path, her eagerness to get to the other side increasing with each moment. She had never completely understood all the events occurring around her and had been aloof to all the drama. Now, as she found herself alone, she felt the tendrils of confusion surrounding her heart. Was all this fighting really necessary? Was all this running and hiding that had so suddenly become a part of her life really needed?

She had lived a very sheltered life wherein the Lunar Front had been seen as something wonderful. They were the saviours and creators of a new world. Well, most saw them as that at least, but not all. Not Gaige. Natasha still remembered the night when he left the house for the last time. It was under such harsh and bitter words from their father, words that no child should hear from a parent. She thought she would never see him again.

And then a few years later, seemingly overnight, everyone’s attitude around her begun to change about the LF as well. Suddenly the LF was considered an oppressor; a cult of murderers and scoundrels. She never understood when and how that change came in especially when her father – a high ranking LF general and hardcore loyalist – suddenly rebelled against them and took her into hiding. No one ever really took the time to discuss any of this with the young teen; deeming her too young and the matters at hand far too complex. All she knew was that, from then on, the clear skies of her life had suddenly become a tempest.

The passage made a turn and continued to stretch on, though Natasha’s flashlight showed yet another turn not far ahead. ‘What direction am I going in? I feel like I’m walking in circles!’ Dirt drifted down faintly as a crunching sound came down from the ground above.

‘What is that?’ Natasha stopped and listened to the sound.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

She would’ve thought it some kind of strange drilling or flattening, construction device – ‘Here? Now? Hardly the time for building!’ – had it not been for the fact that… it was moving!

More dirt trickled down as the sound grew in volume. Natasha froze as the thing, whatever the monstrosity was, was directly above her. Suddenly the thumping paused, then it seemed to almost turn around. The sound was mostly at regular intervals, but could also switch to irregular at whim.

‘Almost like… footsteps?!’ Natasha shivered at the thought.

“Ayden spotted a walker coming straight this way.”

‘Was this the thing they were talking about?’

The machine turned back around and began moving once again in its previously intended direction, ignoring whatever had caused it to pause. Natasha bit on her lip as the sound began to fade and slowly continued on her journey.

Upon reaching the second turn, Natasha could not stop the curse that escaped from her mouth. Again the sound rang through the passage as if racing back the same way she came to inform Gaige of his sister’s foul mouth. Her cheeks reddened at the thought and then she gave a harsh sigh as she turned her attention back to what was ahead of her.

A dead end.

When it happened or what had caused the cave in was beyond the teen’s knowledge, but the sight gave her a shiver as she imagined all that weight upon her. How safe was it to be in this passage? Would it tumble upon her without a moment’s notice?

Natasha turned around and began heading back the way she came at a faster pace. The light shone on some more bits of dirt raining down from up ahead and Natasha felt her walk become a jog; the fear that another part of the tunnel may collapse driving her on.

‘What if it has already happened? What if I find another cave in up ahead? Maybe it came down when that thumping thing was walking around and I didn’t hear the cave in. What if I’m stuck here?’

Natasha sped up to a run, the light of the flashlight bobbing around with her arms, disorientating her. She felt her foot trip on something, her eyes widening as she fell forward. A shriek escaped from her lips as she did so. She landed with a hard thud; her momentum carrying her into a roll. The flashlight flew from her hand, landing somewhere up ahead with a clatter.

A thick silence descended on the passage broken only by tired gasps for air. Natasha remained motionless on the ground, afraid to move. Her heart pounded through her chest and into the ground beneath her. She focused on her rapid breathing, trying to calm herself down but with little luck. Slowly, she began testing her other limbs and found nothing sprained or seriously injured.

‘And you call Gaige a klutz,’ her mind’s voice chastised.

Opening her eyes, she paused with a gasp. ‘Have I gone blind?’ she rubbed her eyes with dirty hands, blinking rapidly before realizing the true cause for the surrounding darkness. ‘The flashlight went out!’ her insides shrieked as she scrambled forward, frantically searching for the lost flashlight.

‘Where is it? Where is it? WHEREISIT?!’

Her fingers found nothing as she swept them blindly from side to side, only moving forward by a few inches when she was sure the object wasn’t within immediate reach.

‘What if…’ a thought made her insides freeze over. ‘What if I had turned the wrong way when I fell?’

Her breath caught in her throat as the question and its answer came to her panic-filled fingers with a hard, rubbery smack; sending the object scattering ahead slightly.

‘THE FLASHLIGHT!!’

Natasha crawled forward in relief-filled frenzy as her fingers stretched out towards their elusive goal. A dry sob heaving from her chest as she finally grasped the flashlight and pulled it towards her, cradling it against her chest. She didn’t even stop to think in which direction the flashlight was pointing before she eagerly switched it on. A mistake that caused her to feel blinded a second time as the startlingly bright light burned into her eyes.

A curse rang from her lips a second time as she thrust the light away from her face. Her eyes teared up, burning speckles of bright red filling her vision.

‘Now that… was INSANELY stupid,’ she thought; her sight slowly returning to her and her panic subsiding.

She took a moment for her eyes to adjust once more before she carefully got back on to her feet. The ladder was only a few meters further, but she took care as she made her way to it. While not seriously injured, her body still felt tender from the fall; her knees clammy underneath her now dirty blue jeans.

As she reached the ladder, she felt it difficult to part with the flashlight. The right thing would be to switch it off and put it in its right place, but that would require her to climb the ladder in the dark. That was something she did not feel up to. However, taking the flashlight with her would prove cumbersome when she finally reached the top. She would need both hands to open the hatch. That is, if she’d be able to open it.

Natasha bit her lip as she thought and then studied the flashlight.

‘Maybe…’

She knelt down, looking for a level patch of ground near the ladder, and then tried to balance the flashlight on its back – careful this time not to get her eyes caught within the white beam pointing up towards the hatch. She grinned as she carefully removed her hand from it, satisfied that it wasn’t going to tumble over. With her way now lit, Natasha climbed up towards the hatch, studying it briefly before putting her hands against it and pushing it open.

Sunlight rushed in, eager to invade the dark void, as the hatch swung open. Natasha grunted under the weight of the hatch and gave another hard push before gravity took control and tipped it over. Dust rose up as the hatch slammed into the earth, but she paid it no heed as she pulled herself out of the hole.

--

The yard was still thankfully empty. She paused; hearing the sound of gunfire rattling somewhere nearby, then moved towards the yard entrance. The street appeared abandoned as her eyes scanned for any movement and Natasha released a soft sigh of relief. ‘So far, so good.’

Using the debris and wreckages for cover, she made her way slowly and carefully down the street. Her heart drummed frantically against her chest as the sounds of gunfire grew louder. Her thoughts drifted to Gaige, wondering what she would find. She imagined him, hiding behind a big piece of concrete, grimacing while the bullets of enemy soldiers whizzed past him with a twang as they did in the old Western movies her father liked so much.

Natasha kept close to the buildings to her right, shooting a quick glance down every alley before she ran past them. As she approached the street corner, she glanced behind her, around her and above her just like Gaige had taught her to do once when the whole idea of needing to move around unseen seemed silly and paranoid to her, but no less fun. Then, when everything looked clear, Natasha detached herself from the last wreckage and positioned herself close against a building. It had been a café long ago. Its broken windows revealed chairs and tables inside; mostly overturned and covered in layers of dust.

The gunfire was much louder here. A shriek almost escaped from her mouth when she heard an earth shattering boom a few seconds later followed by almost inhuman screaming. She closed her eyes; sucking a deep, calming breath before inching closer to the corner and peering around it.

At first, she wasn’t sure what she was looking at. White, powdery dust of concrete mixed with fiery dark smoke floated all along the street; steadily being blown clear by a breeze. A little further down from her, across the street where one of the side streets linked up, she saw something she had heard of but had never seen before.

‘A Walker…’

It looked like a metal statue made by some crazy artist. The walker stood several meters tall with its legs pressing hard on the paving beneath it. Its back was half-turned to her – giving her a view of its right side. The armament on its right arm was fearsome and she could just imagine that the other arm must’ve carried something equally formidable. The monster machine’s attention was focused on a pile of wrecked cars to her right and the small band of resistance fighters that took cover behind them.

And then the beast began firing on the resistance once more.

In the thick waves of choking dust and spray of rubble, Natasha’s world lost the unpolluted clarity of a child as the sight and sound of battle engulfed her. She stared dumbstruck and unmoving while shouts of dying fighters were smothered by the uncountable booms of weapon-fire. It just couldn’t be real. It couldn’t be happening… and yet it was. The brutal fact of what was transpiring before her eyes struck her like a sledgehammer. She pulled out of her stupor with a gasp.

A mechanical screech drew her attention back to the walker. From its back a hatch opened and four black ropes were flung to unroll to the ground below. Four soldiers slid down the ropes like terrible offspring; eager to join the battle. That eagerness was short lived as gunfire erupted unexpectedly from behind the beast.

Natasha swung her eyes to her left to see Gaige crouching, half-hidden behind the wreckage of a car. He fired on the soldiers once more – killing off the remaining ones. He raced forward – a cat chasing its prey. Gone was the clumsy oaf as he slung his weapon over his shoulder and leaped gracefully onto one of the ropes. Gone was the gentle, big brother as he began pulling himself up with an ease that was as frightening as the fierce expression on his face.

Having reached the top, Gaige took a moment to look at something. His hand dived into the bag on his shoulders and pulled out something Natasha couldn’t make out. He fiddled with it and then threw it into the back of the monstrosity. He didn’t pause, but immediately turned and began making his way back down the rope.

He was halfway when the explosion erupted – a terrible roar of angry fire and groaning of metal. Natasha gasped as she watched his falling figure thrown down onto the road by the force of the blast. He lay motionless while the walker staggered a few steps forward; its legs seemingly unsure of what had just happened before it crashed to the ground into a heap of fire and metal.

Natasha had made no conscious decision to move. Yet she found herself sprinting towards her brother, unable to fathom in what state she might find him; unable to process what had just occurred. Nothing made sense anymore. Nothing could give her the answers she was longing for. Her lungs burned from the sharp intakes of smoke, dust and air. She screamed and reeled backward as a series of smaller explosions came from the monster. Dark smoke gushed from it, covering the sky.

The explosions must’ve brought Gaige out of his daze. He slowly began crawling further away from the burning metal carcass. She urged herself forward again, forcing herself to ignore the final explosive gasps of the beast.

“Gaige!”

His big, hulking shape that usually towered over her seemed smaller as she knelt down beside him. He gave a start when she touched him, helped take his backpack off his shoulders – dropping it beside his discarded submachine gun – and turned him onto his back. He looked terrible, his clothes torn and bloodied from wounds seen and unseen. His face was camouflaged under a layer of soot, dirt and blood. She barely would’ve recognized his face if it weren’t for those dark eyes which darted around, trying to make sense of his surroundings.

“Are you okay?” she tried to talk to him again.

“It shouldn’t have gone off so quickly,” he stammered hoarsely; chest heaving. His eyes shifted to hers. They locked on and looked at her with uncertain intensity before they widened in shocked recognition. “What are you doing here?”

“The tunnel caved in,” she said dismissively. She didn’t allow her thoughts to travel back to the experience, to the fear of being trapped there to die. It didn’t matter anymore. What mattered was her brother who was staring up at her with fearful eyes. “Tell me how to help.”

“You need to get out of here,” he slowly moved to sit and she instinctively reached out to help him. His eyes glinted with emotion as he studied her. “You- you can’t be here. You need to run.”

“But what about you?” Natasha shook her head fiercely. She felt a wetness beneath her fingers that startled her. “I can’t-”

“What you can’t do is stay here,” Gaige’s voice sounded weak but determined. He grabbed her arms tightly. “You need to get to one of the safe houses immediately.”

“I’m not leaving without you,” she replied obstinately; holding onto him. She wasn’t going to leave him no matter what he said. “How am I supposed to know where to go anyway? I’m not you, Gaige. I don’t know this place inside out. I need you…”

She felt Gaige’s eyes study her for a moment before he swept them from side to side. “We need to get away from here,” he said finally. “Help me up.”

The warm stickiness that met Natasha’s outstretched hands sent another shock through her system. She didn’t dare to look down, but instead focused on her brother’s face as they slowly struggled to their feet together. The few clear patches of skin on his face were pale; his cracked lips trembled with pain-filled gasps, but Gaige didn’t allow himself any verbal response to his injuries. Instead, he concentrated on their surroundings.

“Need to get off the street. Need cover,” he finally uttered through his gasps. He bent slowly to pick up the backpack and his fallen weapon. Slinging the bag over his one shoulder, he motioned with his head towards the café Natasha had hidden behind. “Let’s go there... for now.”

Crossing the street from the café to where Gaige was, had been such an easy task to Natasha only moments before. Now, with the weight of her brother leaning upon her, it proved to be quite challenging, but not impossible. She felt stronger, fueled by something not of her natural self. She fought down a curse as they almost lost their balance and stumbled forward. She was sure Gaige would still have taken time to admonish her despite his need to conserve as much energy as possible.

‘He doesn’t look good at all,’ she finally admitted to herself. She cast a quick glance towards him. Beads of sweat poured down his face. His strong, white teeth clenched in an expression of hurt he couldn’t successfully conceal whenever he placed too much weight on his left ankle.

“Come on,” she whispered, in a forceful rush of air. “We’re almost there.”

Gaige made no reply as they continued to struggle forward. It was this silence that unnerved Natasha more than anything; this rigid intensity in her brother’s eyes that was so different from his usual gentle composure. Something had changed in him and she wasn’t sure what to make of it.

Natasha paused briefly to take in the sorrowful remnants of what might have been a successful venture now consisting of layers of dust, rubble and broken pieces of glass. Mahogany chairs and tables – some still remarkably whole – lay strewn everywhere; some tablecloths managed to remain on their tables while others lay torn or burnt on the floor. Gaige motioned his head towards the back counter and both of them stumbled towards it.

“Help me down.” She could hear her brother barely stifling a groan as she complied. She stretched her back slowly and was pleased to hear the faintest crack as everything slot back into place. It was freeing to have his weight off of her.

“Okay,” Natasha’s attention flickered back to her brother. He had finished shifting himself into a more comfortable position on the floor, though his facial expression showed no relief. “There’s no way I’m going to be able to walk all the way to a safe house.” He lifted his hand as she began to protest. “You’re going to have to fetch some help. There’s no other way.”

“But how… ?” Natasha’s voice faltered. ‘How does he expect me to do this?’

Gaige leaned back slowly and reached into his jacket pocket. She had completely forgotten about her journal up until then and stood amazed that he had managed to keep it safe. He flipped the book open, taking out the pen still stashed inside, and began scribbling on a clean page.

“While I’m busy with this, check whether this place has any other exits and whether they’re locked.”

Natasha nodded, relieved to have something to do and headed to the back of the café. Her eyes darted to her brother once to make sure he was okay before walking into the kitchen. It wasn’t a very large room. She imagined that, in the hustle and bustle of lunch hour, it must’ve been pretty cramped with bodies.

‘Not that that will ever happen again,’ she frowned at the thought as she crossed the room to the back door. The floor was covered with shards of glass and crockery. Natasha, unable to avoid the mess, grimaced at the crunching sound beneath her. She would’ve liked to be quieter.

‘Who knows who or what lies behind the back door?’ Natasha bit her lip at the thought. Her hands reached out shakily to the door. ‘When did they start shaking?’ She paused and took a moment to glance down at them, then instantly regretted the action. There were things her hands were covered in which she didn’t want to think about. ‘How much blood has he lost? Is he really alright?’ She could barely recognize him behind the pained yet determined expression.

A sigh escaped her lips as she stretched her hands out again. The door yawned open to reveal an alley beyond. Natasha peered out the door carefully before closing the door once more, sliding the bolt into position, and making her way back to Gaige.

“The backdoor leads to an alley,” she reported, moving back into the room. “The right side is blocked off while the left looks like it leads into Crawford Avenue.”

Gaige nodded without taking his eyes off of the journal. “Come look here,” he instructed. “This is where we are now. You’ll have to go out here and …”

Natasha knelt down beside him and studied the map. Her brother’s hand shook furiously as he pointed with the pen. She resisted the urge to glance at her own trembling hands. When he had finished, he got her to explain how to get to the nearest safe house and gave a satisfied nod as she did so successfully.

“It’s not that far from here,” he said, handing her the journal, “It’ll take you about forty minutes if you take the route I’ve shown you. It’s not the shortest, but it’s definitely the safest. And you know what to do if someone’s on your tail…” his eyes looked up into hers. They glinted with a worry that his voice did not betray.

“I –”

Gaige cut her off with a movement of his hand. His head snapped from side to side as if searching for something.

“What?”

“Quiet!” Gaige whispered harshly then dropped his voice even lower. “Get behind the –”

“STAY RIGHT WHERE YOU ARE!”

--

The LF soldier stared down at them menacingly over his trained rifle, not allowing them a single move. His eyes shifted continually between them, gauging who posed the biggest threat.

‘He looks so young,’ Natasha thought as she looked at him. He seemed barely a few years older than her; his startling deep, blue eyes contrasted sharply with the dull, dusty grey of his uniform. Her mind raced, trying to think of something – anything – that she could do to somehow get away. But nothing entered her mind except chilling fear and the piercing image of the rifle pointed straight at her.

“Charlie Two to team leader,” he called into his radio, his focus not shifting from them for a second as he waited for a response. “Positive ID and capture of Traitor’s child along with a wounded adult male. Requesting further instructions.” He listened. “And the heathen?” His eyes locked onto Gaige and stayed there, his gun poised. “Understood. Out.”

‘No!’

Heart and mind; body and soul screamed together as Natasha rushed forward. She knew she would be too late despite the soldier’s eyes flitting to her in a moment of surprise. She imagined his finger squeezing the trigger of the weapon still trained at her brother’s already broken body.

She heard the gunshot and screamed, slumping to the ground; her voice raw in angst and fury.

But it was the soldier whose body flew backwards after taking a couple of bullets to the chest. Her voice had droned out the other shots. Natasha turned towards Gaige and saw his submachine gun still pointed towards the dead body.

Her heart was pounding in her ears and, for a moment, all she could do was sit and stare at the scene before her. Gaige’s dark eyes met hers as he finally lowered his weapon. He was talking to her, she knew. His mouth formed words, his voice brought forth sound and yet all was lost to her.

“Tasha,” his rich tenor finally filtered through. “Hey!” His eyes locked fiercely onto hers, willing her to hear him.

“Y-yeah…Yeah, I’m okay,” she softly answered the unspoken – or perhaps previously spoken – question and his eyes softened.

“You need to get his helmet.”

“W-what?” She struggled to make out what she was hearing; everything having to do with the body now lying a few feet from her seemed to be blanked out of her comprehension.

“His helmet. Bring it to me. We need to hear where the rest of his team is.”

“You want me to - ?”

“Look Tasha, I know it’s a lot to ask, but they’re clearly after you and we need…”

Gaige continued to explain the situation to her, but his words were lost in the space that separated them as Natasha turned and stared at the dead soldier. ‘How did it feel to die? Was it painful? It happened so fast…’

She got to her feet and walked closer, her eyes drinking in the sight of death. ‘He is so quiet… His eyes…’ She bent down and studied those deep, blue eyes which were vacantly staring up the ceiling. They still had that slight glint of moisture in them, an untruthful sign of life. It was as if, at any moment, he would look at her and make a comment about the café’s disrepair. ‘I wonder what he looks like when he smiles…’

‘… I mean, what he looked like…’

Still trembling hands reached down to unclip the soldier’s helmet. Natasha gasped as her fingers grazed dead flesh and resisted the urge to pull her hands back. ‘His skin is still warm…’ Instead she allowed her fingers to stray to underneath his jaw and feel for what she knew wasn’t there: a pulse.

The helmet slid off the young man’s head with relative ease, revealing a tangled and sweaty mop of blonde hair. Natasha stood and walked back to Gaige with the helmet in hand. Wordlessly she handed it to him and watched him slip it onto his own head. His eyes stared straight ahead in intense concentration as he listened. Then his eyes snapped back to her.

“You need to go to the safe house as fast as you can,” he said firmly.

“What about you?” She knelt down beside him, resting an unsteady hand on his shoulder.

“Natasha, there is no time.” His eyes looked at her imploringly. “The rest of his squad is on their way to here, you must not be here when they arrive.”

“But –”

“I made a promise to Da’ to keep you safe, to protect you at all cost,” he interrupted. “Are you going to make me a liar?” He pulled her to him and Natasha allowed herself to be enveloped in a weak hug. She closed her eyes, ignoring the soggy blood against her to drift into the brief comfort he was offering.

Holding her was clearly causing him some discomfort, but he seemed to ignore it. Instead, he stroked her hair gently. “It’s the best I can do, little one. Please…” His voice cracked slightly with emotion.

“Alright,” she whispered. She could feel the tears build up underneath her closed eyelids and sighed, allowing them to escape. A soft kiss pressed itself upon her head and she looked up at her brother. His eyes too had misted over as he stared at her. Then they became firm once more.

“Help me up. We don’t have much time.”

It took some effort, but Natasha managed to bring her brother to his feet without toppling over. She then helped him move towards the soldier and watched him strip the dead of its weapons and grenades. Then the two shuffled to the back of the counter where Gaige dropped everything on the floor except for a pistol which he had taken from the soldier’s hip strap. This he placed gently into his sister’s hands.

“Do you remember how to use this?” he asked her and she nodded in reply. It was one of the things Gaige had instructed her on personally when she first arrived at the shelter, though she sincerely wished that she would never have to use it. The thought of guns sickened her. The idea of shooting someone… She forced herself not to glance back at the body and nodded again to her brother.

“It’s essential that no one sees you. Stay close to the rubble and always make sure the coast is clear before you move. You remember how to get to the other safe house?”

“Y-yes.”

Gaige pointed to the journal which now lay on the dusty floor. Natasha couldn’t remember dropping it and yet she had to have done so. ‘It must’ve happened when I ran towards the soldier…’ She bent and picked it up. Gaige took it from her, opened to the page where he had drawn the map and tore it out. This he folded and stuffed into her jacket pocket.

“Don’t lose this,” he instructed. “This could lead the LF straight to the safe house.”

“I won’t.”

Natasha placed the pistol on the counter and took the journal from him. She checked herself again, looking for a place to put the book. Eventually she settled for sticking the book in the back of her pants. ‘The pants are so tight, it should stay there. Yay for stupid fashion,’ she thought. Then, taking the weapon in her hands once more, she looked back at Gaige.

“I’ll tell them where you are as soon as I get there.”

Gaige simply nodded, placing a big hand on her left shoulder and squeezing gently.

“Go.”

--

Natasha didn’t see much of the alleyway as she moved down it; her eyes involuntarily shedding tears. She realized that once more she was alone – this time with an extra burden hanging on her shoulders.

Gaige.

She hated the idea of leaving him and yet she knew that she could do little to help him except for calling others to him. The others would be stronger, better, smarter. She bit her lip lower and clumsily wiped her tears away with her sleeve.

A noise from far behind her brought her to a halt. It came from the café, the fierce call of her brother’s weapon repeatedly going off on who she could only guess were more LF soldiers. The sound was soon joined by more weapons’ fire as the soldiers retaliated. Natasha turned and stood staring transfixed at the open backdoor she had just exited a few moments before. She knew she should be leaving. Standing there in the alleyway was as stupid and useless as it was dangerous, but she couldn’t leave. It was her brother being shot at! Leaving him felt like betraying him.

The exchanging fire was cut short by a dull crack and then she heard nothing. A plume of dust and smoke made its way out of the open doorway and Natasha’s mind flashed back to her brother taking grenades off the dead body.

‘He must’ve used one,’ the realization dawned as she felt herself being pulled back to the café. She paused near the doorway, aware of how much dust she would be breathing in if she came any closer, and listened carefully.

Someone was moving around inside. Natasha could faintly hear crunching footsteps moving inside. ‘Gaige?’ She was tempted to call out to him when she heard someone talking inside. The voice was young, too young to be Gaige. Natasha felt her heart drop as she listened to the soldier radio into base, reporting in the death of everyone in the building besides himself.

“- that’s a negative. She must’ve gotten out before we arrived.” A pause. “Copy that, continuing search. Carson, Out.”

Natasha backed away as softly as she could while trying to make a speedy getaway. The soldier was clearly going to continue his search for her. It wouldn’t take him too long to find the alley unless the blast somehow blocked the way through the kitchen. ‘Please, let the way be blocked,’ she thought as she began to run.

At the end of the alley, she glanced back and felt relief to see it still as empty as before. Her eyes made a quick sweep of the area in front of her – it wouldn’t do any good to run into one of the LF while running from one. Finding no one in sight, she slipped out of the alley; quickly molding herself against one of the nearby wreckages. She took a deep, calming breath. There was definitely a need to get away from the area, but she had to be careful. ‘Hastiness leads to recklessness,’ she remembered Gaige’s words while instructing her. ‘Remember you’re the one with the advantage when you’re hidden. They don’t know where you are.’

The chill of dusk ran its long, cold fingers down her spine as Natasha moved quietly through the streets. Her body molded to the ruins of the city, she slinked along the route her brother had her memorize. The small map he gave she had torn into tiny pieces and tucked them bit-by-bit into the cracks of rubble she had already passed. There seemed no point in keeping it. She knew now that she could be captured at any moment and then the map would be taken from her without hesitation. Then, the blood of others would be on her hands.

It wasn’t a risk worth taking.

She shivered and tightened her hold on the gun. It was the last ‘gift’ her brother had given her and it felt terribly clumsy and heavy in her hand. And she had no real idea what to do with it. The thought of shooting at someone terrified her – and even more so when they might be firing back!

‘I’d rather have you here,’ she thought and yet another tear slipped down her cheek.

Another thirty minutes into her journey brought a definite change to her surroundings. The almost skeletal buildings of before were replaced with sturdier ones – virtually untouched by weapon fire. In the dark she could barely make out the occasional destroyed wall, shattered glass and burnt out wreckage. The change brought a mixed reaction within her. There was a sense of relief and confidence that she had remained undetected thus far, but also a deepening uncertainty as the streets became more open and exposed. Less destruction meant less objects and places to hide behind.

A park just a few meters ahead drew her attention. ‘Reinhardt Park!’ Natasha read the large metal sign and swirled around. Like a veil lifting before her eyes, she began to recognize where she was. The buildings took a new shape as her mind’s eye added the non-existing features of the past. She remembered the post office on the corner, the small boutique that always had the most interesting (and incredibly expensive) clothing and accessories and the local pizza parlor that had been a favourite haunt for teenagers.

Natasha focused her attention back to the park and pondered her next move. If the rest of the route Gaige had mapped out for her was as undamaged as this area, then it would prove difficult to get to the safe house completely unseen. Moving through the park would definitely provide a lot more cover and will definitely be a shortcut. In fact, it was strange that Gaige didn’t consider sending her through the park. He must’ve known this was one of the few parts of the city she was well familiar with. ‘Maybe he was just too focused on getting me to the safe house. He was never one to take the scenic route to anything. Unless… What if he left out the park for a reason? Why would he have me walk past, no, effectively around the park when I could’ve just gone through it?’

A cold breeze urged her to decide. She wondered how long she would still have to walk before she’d get to safety. Time was as much as factor as everything else. It was only going to get darker – a thought that only frightened her more. She bit her lip, knowing that she’d be taking a risk going against her brother’s instructions, but if it brought her to her destination faster, wouldn’t that be worth the risk?

There were still some distinguishing features; something small here and there that would spark up some childhood recollection. For the most part, however, the once welcoming Reinhart Park had become wild now that it had been left to its own devices. Tree branches stretched both high and low as the weight of leaves pulled them towards the ground. Paved pathways were under threat as grass burrowed through neglected cracks. Yet, Natasha found her way through the terrain easily enough.

She tried to stick close to the trees, glancing around frequently just like the resistance had taught her. She stumbled a few times, ‘have to move slower…’, as the weariness of anxiety began to kick in. She had no notion of how much time had past and the sky told her precious little as only a few stars managed to find an opening through the clouds. But that mattered little to her as the longing for an end crawled around within her, making her more impatient, less focused than she should’ve been.

White light fell on her suddenly and unexpectedly. Bright and blinding, it took a moment for Natasha to realize where it came from. The origin also froze, surprised at what he saw. It took a further moment for them to recognize each other.

Predator and prey.

The soldier stood thirty meters away, his hand reaching up towards her motioning her to halt as he cried out a warning to her, but Natasha wasted no time to listen. She leapt behind a tree – covering her back in the process – and began sprinting through the park. She didn’t pay attention to where she was going so long as she could confuse her pursuer and keep his weapon from being pointed directly at her.

Her zigzagged running led her to the park’s northern entrance; an area probably worst hit by the Lunar Front’s bombardment. Deep fractures were carved in the nearby buildings – some of which appeared almost completely hollowed out. Natasha could make out precious little of what was around her and stumbled a few times in the dark. It was the light of the soldier drawing near that sent her back to running again and also gave her time to catch a glimpse of what was right in front of her at the very least.

His steps thudded a distance from her. ‘Is he catching up?’ She listened, trying to determine the answer, afraid to turn around and see. She stumbled once again. It took too much to concentrate on running through the dark to do anything else. It seemed farther though. Maybe she did have the advantage of speed. The thought gave her hope.

“Stop! Don’t make me have to shoot you!” the soldier shouted from behind‘definitely farther’.

Natasha dashed down the next road to her left, crossing quickly to the other side to turn right at the next crossing. Shapes became more distinguishable as the moon finally made its appearance behind the clouds. The soldier’s light bobbed and jumped as he stumbled behind her with a curse.

She didn’t know where to go. The safe house was now out of the question, though she was drawing quite near to it. Or so she thought. Natasha took a moment to glance around for familiar landmarks, or anything that could give her a clue as to where she was. Reinhardt Medical Centre stood battle-scarred a distance from her – a few lights still flickering inside to her surprise. She was supposed to pass to its right to head to the safe house.

‘Maybe I’ll be able to shake him off in there.’

Natasha barely spared a glance at the state of the still –if scarcely– lit front lobby as she shot through it, taking the first open passage to her right in hopes of cutting off the soldier’s line of sight. Her combats squeaked and pounded on the floor. ‘What’s the point of him not seeing me when he can hear me?!’ she bit her lip as she turned into another passage and charged down it.

Light and dark seemed to wage their own battle for possession of the hospital. Some passages were completely enshrouded while others were still minimally lit. Natasha tried to stay out of the light as much as possible, turning down passageways where she would be the least visible. It didn’t take long for her to lose her sense of direction. She felt trapped in an impossible maze, switching directions almost at random while hoping to keep one step ahead of her pursuer. She couldn’t hear his footsteps anymore, but that gave her little comfort. She was sure that he was still there behind here somewhere – relentless in his pursuit – and probably well able to hear her squeaky passage through the hospital. ‘Maybe he decided to do his stealth thing,’ she bit her lip and wondered how close he really was.

Again the passage flowed into another, leaving her– as so many times before – with a choice of which direction to go. This time, both carried a challenge: To her left the hallway was brightly lit and – depending on how close the soldier was – left her an easy target. To her right the corridor was a mess of fallen beams and rubble. The ceiling must’ve collapsed during the bombing, but there was a small way through; small enough for her, but probably not the soldier…

She approached the obstacle and knelt to look through the hole. ‘Well, it looks clear… Doesn’t look like it’s going to be comfy but –’ A dull sound echoed behind her, urging her on. ‘Oh hell, here goes...’

Natasha grimaced as she both pulled and pushed herself past the debris. Dust tumbled on her slightly and irritated her sinuses. Faint light from the other side helped her to make out what was ahead of her and how to move to get around it. It was a tight fit – tighter than she had expected. She kept her right hand slightly ahead of her body, hoping to keep the gun clenched within it from getting stuck somewhere… like her journal was threatening to do. It shifted continuously, moved around by the little pieces of rubble that she had to scrape by; making her back even sweatier and irritated as its edges scratched her skin.

An overwhelming sense of relief flowed over her as she pushed her body out on the other side. Her muscles burned and ached and she became aware of the thin film of grit-covered sweat that covered her. She took slow, deep breaths, hoping to bring the slightest sense of calm but it didn’t do any good. Her body was exhausted and it was letting her know it.

She took a look at her surroundings, noting the stale smell of the air. While still somewhat lit the passages were littered with fallen beams, walls and pieces of ceiling. There was also an assortment of furniture – tables, beds, chairs – that cluttered the already messy area. ‘More hiding place,’ Natasha thought as she again took a course down one of the passages. She didn’t know where she was going or where she should be going to. Getting the soldier off her trail was definitely a first priority, but what then? She considered the possibility of slipping out of the hospital through another exit, but would the soldier have considered that? Had he already called in some kind of backup? Were they waiting for her to do just that?

And, even if she did manage to escape from here, would it be safe to go to the safe house? Or would she inadvertently lead the LF right to them? Unable to contact them, she had no way of knowing what they thought the best course of action would be. There was no procedure to follow, no step-by-step instruction like the basic training they had given her when she arrived, no one left to tell her what to do.

Natasha felt lost. Very lost. And she knew that feeling wasn’t going to change even if she managed to find a way out of the hospital without the soldier in hot pursuit.

There was a skittering sound behind her; a metallic-sounding pitter patter that made Natasha pause to listen. The hospital was as quiet as a tomb except for the low hum of electricity and the occasional flickering of lights. ‘Could it have been some kind of animal? A rat?’ Natasha shivered at the thought. Rodents weren’t her favourite kind of animal.

She continued on, rounding another corner when she heard the sound again. It seemed closer this time, but that might just be the product of an overactive imagination. Crouching down, she peered back round to corner and waited.

Tap, tap, tap, tap

The sound stopped again. Natasha judged that it – whatever it was – had to be just beyond a particular patch of light about twenty metres from her. Time stretched out while she waited forwhatever to move. Just as she considered getting up and moving on, the object stepped into the light.

It was clearly robotic. Small, with three scrawny legs on the left and right side of its oval-shaped body, it reminded Natasha of a river crab. Encased in its body, a small black eye peered straight at her, shifting slightly as if to study her more closely.

Natasha gasped and swung her self back around the corner. ‘Bad crabby! That thing’s probably telling the soldier exactly where I am. I’ve got to get rid of it.’ Natasha unconsciously tightened her grip on the gun in her hand as she looked down on it. Taking a quick, deep breath, she looked around the corner again and took aim at the metal crab. It stopped, sensing the danger and began skittering back to the darkness. Natasha fired a single shot at it, missing horribly before it disappeared into the shadows once again. She glared at the gun as if it was at fault.‘Useless thing.’

She got up and moved quickly away from the metal pest – hoping to put some distance between her and it while thinking of a better way to rid herself of it. Whatever she did, it would have to happen fast and Natasha knew it. Nothing she passed looked like a promising weapon. There were no loose metal bars, no wooden sticks – ‘Would a stick work on it?’ – or anything else she could lay her hands on that might be potent against it.

Behind the next turn she found a promising answer. A medium-sized fire extinguisher still hung on the wall – untouched by the chaos that gripped the hospital. Natasha smiled as she approached it. It would be far more useful on the little machine than the handgun would be. Natasha glanced around the area, finding an overturned table a few metres off that could be ideal to hide behind. She raced towards it, dumping the handgun behind it before making her way back to the extinguisher.

It felt somewhat heavy in Natasha’s hands, but still manageable. She carried it quickly around the table and hid, waiting for the robot to make its appearance.

It wasn’t long before the scuttling sounds of metal echoed in the otherwise quiet passageways. Natasha’s heart raced; her hands sweaty as they felt for the most effective grip on her new weapon.

‘Here Crabby, Crabby, Crabby…’ she thought as she heard it scamper into the corridor – her muscles tense and ready. The machine paused briefly and then approached the table slowly as if considering how to navigate around it. She saw its little feet scamper forward. ‘Just a little more…’ Only with its full body in view did it seem to notice her. It stopped dead, its eye gazing up at her.

“Hello Crabby,” she smiled viciously as she swung the extinguisher down upon it. The blow crushed some of its legs, preventing it from scurrying away. The machine sparked slightly as she smashed the extinguisher into it several times – only breaking off her attack when it stopped moving.

Natasha stared at the mechanical mess she made and tried to catch her breath. The assault had taken a lot out of her. Her body trembled as she pulled herself back onto her feet, the fire extinguisher still grasped securely in her hands. It made a better weapon than the handgun, she decided, but still turned to where she had left the latter.

It was then when the flashlight shone on her.

“Stay right where you are!” the soldier commanded, his voice steady and firm. Natasha’s body shook as she shrieked with fright. She turned around, her eyes wide with surprise, and watched how the soldier slowly approached her.

‘Don’t panic, don’t panic! Just think! THINK!’ Natasha let her eyes shoot around, looking for a means to escape. She became aware of the extinguisher that she still held in her hands and considered. ‘Get his attention off you!’

She forced herself to breathe slowly as her heart hammered though her chest. The soldier came closer. He moved slowly, his hands steady on the weapon pointed at her. “Don’t do anything stupid,” she heard the man say. “We want you alive. You want you alive. There’s no point in making me shoot you.”

Natasha turned her head down towards the robot – hoping her attention to it would direct his gaze as well.

“Was that yours?” she asked him, gazing back at him, her head still tilted. Her voice came out with a slight tremble, but still surprisingly calm. Her insides felt like mush with a hundred volts of electricity sent through it. Every part of her body didn’t want to be where she was; didn’t want her to do what she was going to do.

“Yeah,” he said slowly, still moving towards her. “Sent it in through the hole you crawled through.”

“I think I broke it,” she forced her face into a smirk, her eyes locked onto his as her hands secretly did their work. He was only a few steps from her now. ‘C’mon, take your eyes off me.’

She watched the soldier frown at her. “That you did,” he responded finally, taking a glance at her handiwork.

As his eyes left hers, she took her chance. Powder streamed furiously into the soldier’s face as Natasha’s hand pressed firmly on the fire extinguisher’s lever. She barely paused to release the lever before she swung the extinguisher at the bewildered soldier’s stomach. The soldier grunted as the blow struck true, knocking him slightly off balance.

Natasha dropped the extinguisher, her arms too tired to wield it again, and made a run for it. She made her way past the soldier, taking the first turn she could find in the dark. It wasn’t long before she heard his footsteps thunder behind her. She stumbled over invisible debris and cried in alarm as she struggled to keep distance between them. Her body ached, her lungs burned as they gasped for precious oxygen and rest. She raced down another corner and faltered.

Someone else was in the corridor.

She shrieked as her mind registered that she had been caught. The others aimed their weapons at her, ready to fire. It didn’t look like they wanted her alive anymore.

“Natasha, get down!” she heard a man shout to her and found herself dropping to the floor more out of exhaustion than obedience. Her mind struggled to grasp what was going on, her body pulling itself into a defensive position as the sound of gunfire rattled overhead. She heard a cry of surprise, the sound of someone falling to the floor, then nothing but her own gasps for air.

The silence around her seemed to stretch on, confusing her. Where were the shouts for her to get up? Where were the firm, rough hands pulling her up and hauling her to wherever the LF was planning on taking her? Natasha slowly moved her arms away from her head and looked around. Behind her, the soldier she had run from lay dead and in front of her…

A steady hand helped her back onto her feet. Natasha cringed as she found herself surrounded by unknown faces – each as rugged and dirty as the other.

“Woah, don’t be afraid, Tash. You’re safe with us,” one of them said, soothingly. The man’s eyes – deep and dark like her brother’s – met hers gently. “We’re part of Darrel’s crew. The LF ain’t gonna lay a hand on you.”