We're downstream when they find us for the first time, close to a town. I think we figured we weren't even going to any more towns because Red routed us all the way around civilization which must mean he's nervous about something, but when is he not, it's Red, and then suddenly we're kind of in one. "Angel, library," Red says, even though we're still in the woods.

"What do you want information on?" she asks.

"Whatever you can find on Damien Andrews," Red says, and my blood runs cold. "Actually, Damien, you've been running searches too... haven't you?"

"Uh, um, kind of, I guess, sometimes..." I start. I've been making a lot of searches for Damien Andrews. I've noticed a lot of searches have started turning up a certain channel full of music with another Damien, which is going to be a problem, especially because of the real Damien, and Damien's been dealing with comments for a while, now? Whoops. Should have realized that doing a good thing is somehow always a bad thing. What's the word, ironic? Don't think so.

"Well, have you found any information? I sure haven't heard about it." Red's voice is like ice. Not the melty ice. The icicles on the side of houses ice, which is large, pointy, and stabby. No fun.

"Maybe we shouldn't? What do we need to know, even? I think I've kind of got his address down." I try to add a laugh to this, but it comes out like an angry bird laugh, a sort of breathy ha that really means 'I'm hiding something! Guess who's been breaking every conceivable law that keeps our fragile group in order!'

There was a news story about Damien Andrew's 'doppelganger' the other day. I don't know what a 'doppelganger' is, because apparently it doesn't have anything to do with gangs, somehow (which are like packs of human, except no one likes them), but I can tell that it's bad news for both our channel... his channel's publicity, and me.

"Alex, it's not like there would be a problem if we investigated further, would there?" asks Red.

Bushes rustle. A few stray shots sound out like the opening notes of a song, and all of our hearts pulse. Angel, who was nearest to the attack, calls bravely into the forest, "Excuse me, sir, I think you might've mistaken me for a rabbit." This is met by another round of people springing from the bushes, and Mary is on it before any of us can breathe. Gillian transforms in front of me, her dragon hide taking a dozen shots to the side, and Dylan goes Veritas to take the other side out. I have no idea how long the battle lasts-- we work fast-- but I barely do a thing. I'm just sitting there, clutching my phone as we fall into the practiced unity we all hate to admit is probably the one thing we can do right.

Crack.

Bodies breaking.

Crack.

Like opening an acorn with your teeth.

Crack.

They have words for this, I'm sure of it, but I couldn't tell you what they are. I can just tell you that when they're all incapacitated, most of them downed instead of dead, we're all breathing harder, looking to each other for some kind of reassurance. Eventually, all of our eyes fall back on Red, leader, and he holds his hands up. "Time to go."

My phone crackles to life. The group freezes cold as the call rings out from my pocket.

"Alex?" asks Red.

Shoot shoot shoot shoot I'm stupid whyyyyy meeee--

"Yeah, I think I'm going to have to take this, probably," I say, clicking it open. My hand is shaking as I bring it to my ear. A man moves and Mary slams his head back down with her foot. Kali is burning guns.

"If you are hearing this, you've probably just met with one of our forces. I say 'our', but naturally, I've already split with the organization. I am doing all of this on the will of one Olivia Grace, who you might already be acquainted with. Or you may have forgotten, if all has gone well--"

"--Who is this?" asks Red. "Alex, can he hear us? Does he know who we are?"

He's way too calm. I'm so dead. "I don't-- his name is-- actually I don't know his name either?"
"Nor do you need to," the voice continues.

"Did the phone just respond?" asks Red, in so high a voice that I think a mouse would have been less shrill.

"The people around you have guns full of tranquilizer darts. You would not immediately die if you ingested their contents, however, their intent is probably to bring you somewhere they could... how do I say this? Dispose of you more easily. You've been on the run for a long, long time, but I hope you realize that all things must come to an end. If you want to keep playing out this charade, as I imagine you will, you're going to want to meet me as soon as possible. My coordinates-- if Four is with you, it'll-- she'll remember this-- roughly 35', -75. Enter that into any computer. We're out in the woods, but it's a nice enough place. By 'we' I mean just me. Apologies. I wish there were more support I could offer on that front, but I live and work alone, so you'll all have to make do."

"We're letting him do this," breathes Angel. "Are we in terrible danger right now?"

"Damien, if you're out there-- cease transmissions. You are bringing far too much attention to yourself. Repeat, Damien, stop the transmissions, and if you could avoid the Andrews estate, that would be great. Our previous donors are currently a little testy about our other artificial lifeforms."

"Artificial..." They don't even know what word to focus on. I don't know what word to focus on. Every single one of them is bad news. It's all bad news! It's like looking up Damien Andrews. Whatever you're going to see is going to be something you wish you hadn't even seen.
"I will be in contact with you. Thanks again for your continued operations," the man says and his voice crackles out, leaving all of us standing clustered together, in electric darkness. I shut the phone off and take a big, hefty breath, trying not to fall over on the spot. I'm not tired but I can feel numbness easing through my chest, which feels like my salamander skin.

"I'm guessing we should get out of here," Red says, putting a hand to his face. Okay, so not mad... that's good. Tired? Maybe not so good.

"Before we have to kill more people?" I ask. Stooooop talking.

"Leave them," Red says. I can see the pronounced dark circles around his eyes. "Trust me, they would have found us no matter what we did. Sometimes, you just need to... make examples." He rubs his eyes, laughs nervously. "I'm lying to myself."

"You're too calm," it leaves my mouth before I can even stop it. I clasp my hands over my mouth and start repeating "Sorry" as many times as I can, fast as I can, and Red just keeps walking.

The rest of the group trails in Red's wake. That's all we can do when things get really, really bad: trust that Red might know where he's going, just in case none of us do. Red keeps walking, but he's going faster now, and he breaks into an awkward human run. The others follow in lopsided pace, mainly in their regular animal forms, except Adaline and Trace are lynxes, because they're usually so small. I'm still a human. I have my hand clutched around the phone.

It's always come with me when I shift.

Right now I feel like I could drop it. There's no room inside of me for it at all.

Red turns on his feet, ragged coat billowing around him with a hwiiiiiiish of air, and his glasses shine with light. He holds a hand out to me. "Hand it over," he says. All the beasts are watching. We all knew this was coming. I nod a few times, processing. "I don't know if we should be trusting you to handle this... that's all." So cold. His voice is a constrictor and it has its fangs around me. I can feel my own hand going to my neck, fear welling up in my body. I gulp once. I'm shaking.

"Handle this?" I ask.

Red nods. "Handle it. I think you heard me the first time."

I set the phone on the ground. "Do you love me?"

Red leers. "What kind of a question is that? Do you know how much I love you?"

"Okay, I'm just checking. I'm about to make you real angry, so, I figured I'd make sure you weren't going to kill me or something. Wait. You can't really kill anyone. Ha! Sorry that was out of line." Rambling again. I feel the words flooding out of my mouth, but the point is this: I take the phone and I bolt it with all the electricity in my body. I keep throwing bolts at it, watching the electricity burn it, and the metal becomes a rainbow of colors, singing the grass around it. Things begin to catch fire, and then I step as close as I can and slam my foot into it.

I think I can feel relief, pain, joy, betrayal, pain (ow ow ow that's hot I'm glad I'm wearing shoes but still seriously terrible idea come on Alex); I can feel everything. For a moment my emotions are a bright swathe of electric currents, crackling through my body. Red is just standing there in the embers spreading across the clearing, both of us breathing in the most putrid smoke I've ever had in my lungs, and I can feel the anger taking over everything, like the colors licking the sides of the phone. I exclaim, "You're not going to stop me?"

Red looks to Dylan. He's in fox-shape, practically curled around Red's legs. "I've already tried," Red puts his hand up to his mouth to cough.

"No you haven't!" I insist.

Red looks at the fire. He raises his hand, then puts it down. Something crosses his face like a rash of embers. "Nope. We're keeping that."

"Keeping... what?" I ask.

"Kali. Fires out. That's an order, not an invitation, so cut your shit for a second," he says. Red is all the smoke. All of it. It makes the clearing smell like something died. Something past animals. Something past man. I killed something greater than man. It is the worst death I have ever had to commit and yet I want my eyes on it still. I hit the screen again. It cracks under my foot. The power is nauseating. Red continues around me, "We are keeping that moment. I want it all burned into your collective consciousnesses. Angel, you can use a black box?"

Angel shifts back to her human-form from that of a small white wolf. "Oh, I believe so?"

"Good, good. We've navigated blind before. We used to not know where we were going anyways," Red shrugs. "So, no problem."

"Are we going to the ocean?" I ask.

"We're pretty close to the ocean," Red says.

"You don't know that," I say.

"I can feel it," Red's voice trembles with conviction. "After all this time, I think I'd know where home is."

"He's right. It's like the thirteenth member of our group. I couldn't lose track of all of you, and I couldn't lose the sea either," Dylan says, human-shaped but still askew. He tilts towards the ocean in a distinctly inhuman way, looking in the way that animals do before the storm rolls in, processing, knowing. "Well, don't expect for her to wait up for us. Does anyone know what 'coordinates' are?"

"I'll try to goggle it!" exclaims Angel, excitedly. "Alex, do you think you could help?"

"I'd like to have a talk with them first," Red says, looking over Damien and I. "Would you two mind taking a walk with me?"

Damien is far behind me, but somehow in the pure agony of Red's gaze it feels like he's right next to me. I definitely hear the whine of terror that leaves his throat. Red tilts his head to the side, gesturing us forwards, and we follow him past the trees, up an incline in the landscape to where it clears to a vast field of grass. It's tended, cultivated, and the whole thing sways like fur does when it's hit by wind. Red situates himself on a dead log, bent over.

He pants like a dog. He has his head in both his hands, and the noise doesn't stop, this jagged breath in-out that reminds me of those big big saws people use to hurt trees. Through his hands, he says, "Both of you have been in on this for months?"

"It was my fault," I say. "For letting him. Don't break his instruments again. I'm pretty sure he can make them out of his arms, and he needs his arms."

Red lets out a long, devastated groan, his eyes still not on us. Damien and I both suck our breath in and Damien puts his hands up in front of his face. "I needed some way out okay I swear I wasn't trying to be bad and Mary and I would never actually leave and she wants to leave more than I do and it's all just one stupid joke and I'm barely even in on it and I don't even like when she talks about it but she insists all the time and I know I should have come to you but you don't get it and I know you'd say no so I just didn't say anything at all I'm sorry it won't happen again I promise but I really can't stop and I need somewhere to play and there's so much light in my body that wants out of my body and this makes me happy and brave and nothing else does so please maybe maybe maybe--"
"Damien," Red begins. "I'm not dealing with this right now."

"Are you not mad?" Damien asks.

"No, I'm pretty mad," Red says. "It's just that... I don't think I'm capable of being any more exhausted or angry than I am already. I've capped off. Lot on my mind. We're going to all pretend that you've learned your lesson, and then you'll do something stupid, later, and I'll have to..." Red trails off. He slumps forwards even further. He looks small.

"I broke my phone," I say.

Damien's eyebrows raise. "You did. We all saw it."

"It's broken."

"Yep."

Red rises. He passes both of us, saunters back down the hill, still looking down. The two of us look after him, and I think that our friendship is officially dead. Damien shakes his head. "This made me happy."

I watch Damien go. I can feel the lightning in my stomach, still. It's a bright, angry, hungry that gnaws at all my senses. It wants to burn something else. I let it flick off my fingers real quick. I let it wreathe around my back, bring it down my arm, pull it back out... then I swing it around the leg, shoot a tree branch off with a quick kick-snap that sends it forwards, feel the remaining power crackle between my ears, hungry.

When I come back down, they're still talking about the phone. It doesn't even matter.

Red nods. "I'll... we can get a new phone at some point."

I join. "Not like that one. Someone gave it to me."

"No, you just stole it from someone instead of someplace," Red says.

"That man was..." Angel begins.

Kali crosses her arms. She has a thin smile that almost hides how heavy her dark circles are getting. "Do you remember the people who raised us?"

"No," Mary says, "Because they didn't raise us. They created us. Grew us. You don't raise plants, or... you don't raise a sword."

"You don't know that," says Gillian.

"I know that. You make swords inside of mountains, except they're on fire. Forg'd in the fires of... Like that. That's how you do swords," Mary says.

"I know."

Late that night I find I have nothing to do. I'm out on the edge of the group, thinking of flipping through digital landscapes. White. Blue. You enter a word and they'll tell you what it means. No one in the group knows what they're saying half the time. We approximated our own reality. It's off. I know. There are rules. White. Blue. The universe is a giant, structured machine and we are trespassing on its body. White. Blue.

White.

Blue.

Like a sky.

Humans chasing off nighttime with electric fingers.