Zac's head is going to explode.

Any minute now, it's going to internally combust. Especially if he clenches his teeth any harder. It's a disaster waiting to happen.

In approximately ten seconds he's going to act recklessly — launch himself towards us with no care for anything other than saving me. He'll probably kill himself in the process.

And I can't let that happen.

I'm gritting my teeth when Callum's grip tightens on my hair, tugging my head back and exposing more of my bare throat to the blade that he ripped from his trousers the second I got too close to him.

I should have guessed.

We have so many enemies, and even those who are on our side are tainted from the inside out. They're hardly the same person they were before the war, hell, before we started our journey North from London.

War changes people.

And for no good reason.

Callum's desperate. He wants to be the leader, he wants everyone to do what he says. He thinks he knows the best way forward, the only way forward. And it's changed him.

For no good reason.

If he continues, he'll only get more paranoid, more determined, more narrow minded.

After all, right now he has a knife to my throat, all because Zac and I want to reconsider tearing down the only thing keeping anarchy from spreading far and wide across the entire fucking country. There's enough separate anarchy to last a lifetime in two of the sectors... who knows what it's like beyond that?

Callum cannot be allowed to lead anyone.

And it's hardly like Zac is going to let him live after this...

No. Zac's going to get himself killed saving me unless I do something to help myself fast.

A sudden pin prick stings my neck and I realise with horror that Callum has broken the skin. I flinch as I feel a sliver of warm liquid trail down towards my chest.

Zac's eyes are black, full of rage as he steps closer.

It's now or never, Emilia.

With a jolt, I lean as far as I can into Callum's shoulder, leaving mere inches between the knife and my skin before jumping up and to the right, sending my head straight into his chin. The knife travels down my collarbone, slicing through the delicate skin, but I hardly notice.

Instead, I'm distracted by the way my head throbs as it bounces away from Callum's. He hisses, stumbling backwards and falling to his knees, arms outstretched just as I whirl on my heel towards him. Reaching forward, I tear the blade from his grip and turn it in my hand before winding my spare fingers through his long, dark hair. Lifting my arm back, I place one foot behind the other — getting a good swing on it — before pummelling forwards and piercing the weapon straight through his stomach.

His blue eyes widen as reality sinks in. Fear stares at me.

It doesn't phase me.

It stopped phasing me a long time ago.

Especially when this was me only ten seconds ago... On the verge of death as he threatened to kill me.

I can't feel guilty. It's not in my nature. Not anymore.

Instead, a malicious smile spreads across my face as I slowly pull the blade out, feeling the blood flow onto my fingers and drip onto the ground. I don't even bother looking when I chuck the knife to the grass behind me.

Callum coughs, choking slightly.

I tilt my head, smirk widening before I say, "I suppose you should have listened to us." His hands clutch at his bloody abdomen. I step back and let go of his hair. "But what you really, really, really should have done was remember who we are." My smile drops as he falls to the ground, coughing. "You know what we've had to do to be here today, Callum. You're just lucky that I'm the one who killed you," I tell him. Zac's hand wraps around my waist, tugging me backwards, against his chest. "Zac would have made this last as long as he possibly could," I promise.

He's still choking, blood staining the grass below, but I turn away — done.

My eyes trail up the slightly torn black top in front of me, over the tensed, stupidly defined jawline, to my husband's panicked brown eyes. He's breathing heavily and I give him a small smile, lifting my finger and gently caressing the side of his face.

"I'm okay," I assure him.

Zac nods, breath still shaky, but less abrasive already. Leaning up on my tiptoes, I press my lips against his, ever so slightly, the smallest of touches, but enough to reassure him that I'm still here. He exhales, his entire body sagging before his hands tighten on my waist, aggressively yanking me against his chest before his mouth shoves brutally against mine. My head falls backwards at the force, mouth parting in surprise. He uses the opportunity, tongue diving inside, igniting every nerve and awakening my body. My hands fall onto his biceps, clutching tightly to them to keep my balance.

Too soon, he pulls back, resting his forehead on mine and closing his eyes.

"I'm so fucking done with this life," he murmurs.

"Me too," I reply softly, leaning up and pecking his lips once more before stepping away from him. Leaning down beside Callum's now lifeless body, I pick up the walkie talkie and press the button down on the top. "Shouldn't it be making a noise?" I ask Zac before pressing the button once more. "Hello? Hello? Can you hear me? You need to stop what you're doing."

"Let me try," Zac says, taking the device from my hands before turning it over in his hands and scowling. "It's fucking dead."

"Callum was using it minutes ago!"

"I know," Zac replies through gritted teeth. "Fucking battery's died."

"Shit," I exclaim, reaching up and running my hand through my hair. My ribcage contracts against my lungs in panic.

If we can't get in contact with Callum's cronies who are at the wall, they're just going to go ahead and blow the damn thing up anyway. Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

"Do you see that woman? Anyone else?"

Zac cranes his head, squinting behind me at the length of wall that's in our eye range. "No."

"Shit!"

Zac lets out a far longer — and stronger — string of curse words.

"Wait! Callum gave us spare batteries for our backpacks," I remember suddenly. Then my heart drops. "I gave mine to Jordan to look after before I got captured." Back then, I was more concerned with keeping my bag stocked up with weapons. Shit, shit, shit again!

"We don't have much time." Zac looks doubtful.

I bite my lip before replying, "We don't know that for sure. Plus, we don't really have much of a choice, do we?"

Another curse falls from his lips and his eyes scan over the wall once more, desperately trying to glimpse sight of someone. Anyone. "Fine. Let's go," Zac relents. "Quickly!"

Giving him a sharp nod, I turn, diving into the woods and sprinting as though my life depends on it. Because... really... it does.

Zac's hot on my heels, and I hear his feet tearing through the undergrowth. It's the only reassurance that I need. My heart races, blood flies through my veins, spurring my body on and giving it as much energy as it possibly can. It's life or death, and my body has learned to deal with that the hard way.

There's no stopping me now.

There's no stopping us. We just have to pray that we can get there in time.

Navigating the way of the woods has become something of an art to us, both of us remembering which direction we've come from and managing to dodge the tree stumps and rocky terrain with as much ease as we used to follow signposts before the war.

Within twenty minutes, we're nearly there, having stopped only twice to catch our breath. Spluttering slightly, I slow, arm reaching out and resting on the trunk of the tree beside me. My other arm comes to rest on my waist as I try to inhale as much oxygen as I can. My heart is ready to burst through my chest and I grimace.

"You okay?" Zac's hands are on my hips. He barely even sounds like he's been jogging, let alone full blown sprinting. I just nod, unable to voice my words. "Are you sure?"

I nod once more. "You... just... go on... ahead."

"What?"

I point forwards. "Without... me."

"Fuck, no."

I roll my eyes. "We... don't... have... time... for this."

"We'll wait until you can catch your breath," he replies.

"No—"

"Emilia, remember what happened last time we were split up?" Zac snaps.

I glare up at him. "That... was... your choice."

His jaw tenses and he nods. "It was a mistake. I'm sorry—"

"Don't." I hold up my hand. "What's done... is done."

"That doesn't mean that I don't regret it. I'm sorry for putting you in harm's way. For making you a target," Zac says softly, reaching out and running his hand down my cheek. My heart swells but I ignore it, straightening my spine.

"Don't worry," I reply. "I'm still... mad at you. I... just haven't... had time to... dwell on it. Yet."

Zac grimaces. "I don't want you to be mad at me."

"Tough shit."

"You should have stayed with Jordan whilst I was gone—"

"Shut up," I mutter, cutting him off and finally letting go of the tree trunk, stretching my arms out in front of me. "You shouldn't have been gone."

I lift my feet, pushing myself forward and running into the trees before he has a chance to reply.

"This conversation isn't finished!" he calls after me.

I shrug, turning my head slightly and sticking my tongue out at him. A guffaw of laughter is what follows and I can't fight my smile at the sound. Accelerating into a swift jog, my legs are almost jelly, nearly ruined from the recent upheaval and chaos that we've endured. I'm running out of steam...

A sudden flicker of movement from behind the next tree and I instantly grind to a halt, my hand going to the waistband of my torn trousers and wrenching the knife out. Zac's breath fans the back of my hair as he joins me, his arms winding around my body before he tries to wrestle me behind him. I stand my ground, digging my heels in as he huffs under his breath and draws his gun into his hand, settling beside me, ready for the threat.

Another flicker and then two people emerge, their own weapons drawn towards us.

I instantly fall slack, dropping my hand and tucking the knife away in relief. Thank God. I'm exhausted.

"Jesus, what are you doing back here?" Jordan exclaims, frowning as he puts his gun away. "We're on our way to meet you at the wall."

Zac shakes his head, stepping forward as I drop to the ground and hug my knees to my chest. "We need the spare batteries," he tells Jordan.

Jordan's frown intensifies but he nods, dropping his backpack to the floor and instantly ripping it open. Poppy heads for me, dropping to her haunches and resting her hand on my back. Her brunette hair hangs down in front of my face.

"You okay?" she asks softly. I can barely nod as Zac hurriedly tells Jordan what Callum has planned.

"Where are the others?" I ask Poppy.

She shrugs. "They weren't exactly in a rush. We left them behind."

"Callum's dead?" Jordan exclaims suddenly, wide eyed as he looks at Zac.

"He... what?" Poppy's hand drops from my back, her voice cracking as she topples on her feet, tipping back, her butt hitting the floor. "You..."

"He was going to kill me, Poppy," I tell her, not daring to look at her face. I don't want to see the hurt that I know is there. The sadness that's probably ripping through her.

She knows that Callum isn't perfect, that he's made mistakes from the very minute we stepped out of his compound in London. But either way... he was her family before Zac returned, the guy she found safety with in a world where everything else wanted to kill her. He kept her protected and gave her a home.

Poppy probably saw a version of Zac in Callum — an older man, a leader, an answer. Callum was everything she needed as she grew up away from her brother. And sister.

"But... he..."

"He had a knife to her throat, Pop," Zac tells her. At the reminder, I inhale, lifting my hand to the redness that stains my upper chest. It's still wet. I can feel Poppy's eyes on me. She's silent for all of five seconds before she exhales, dropping her head into her hands.

"There aren't any batteries in here," Jordan announces, lifting the bag up and shaking it upside down with as much vigour as he can. Nothing but dust and a pebble fall out.

"Shit," Zac snaps, stepping forward and tugging Poppy's bag forward. She watches it go, her eyes dull, full of exhaustion. Zac's hauling everything out, object by object, dropping it to the muddy ground in exasperation. "There's nothing fucking here!"

I suck in a breath as Jordan curses, turning around and smacking his palm against the tree trunk beside him.

Poppy's breathing is shaky as she brushes her hands on her jeans before standing back up. "How long do we have?"

"I don't have a fucking clue," Zac mutters. Jordan bends down, roughly shoving everything back in his bag before shifting it over his shoulders.

"What about the others? The ones that are following you?" I ask, pointing in the direction that Jordan and Poppy have come from. We shouldn't have run straight to Jordan. Why didn't we split up? Why didn't one of us try the campsite Fin led us to? They must have walkies.

Poppy shakes her head. "The ones left with us didn't have any walkies or batteries. We were just praying to god we could find you by following the directions Callum gave them."

"Not a single ounce of this bloody plan was thought the fuck through," Zac snaps once more, his jaw tense.

"Fuck," Jordan breathes out.

Poppy exhales beside me. "They're going to blow it up, aren't they?"

Zac's jaw tenses once more, his eyes blazing before he replies, "Not if I can help it."

"Zac?"

"How..."

"I'm heading back to the wall," he insists, leaning down to retie the laces of his shoes.

"You've just ran the entire way—"

"I'm fine," Zac insists, cutting Poppy off and straightening up. "I've caught my breath back."

"You've been a prisoner for weeks," Poppy snaps, stumbling to her feet. "Stop acting like you're invincible."

"If I need to slow down, I will." Zac shoots her a quick, reassuring smile.

Shaking my head, I reach out, curling my hand around Poppy's arm to help pull me up. My knees wobble slightly but I force a smile onto my face and nod.

"I'm ready," I tell them.

Zac scoffs, shaking his head and stepping towards me. His hand reaches out, swiftly coiling around my waist as he leans closer, gently placing a kiss against my temple. "You're exhausted," he comments.

"Pfft." The noise leaves my lips. "So are you."

Zac smiles and nods. "I know you. You can't sprint back to that wall."

"I can—"

"You can follow at a gentle pace," he tells me. He squeezes my hip before letting his hand drop and turning to Jordan. "There's no time to waste. Jordan?"

Jordan nods, patting his hand on top of the gun in his waistband and heading after his friend. "I'm coming!"

"Zac!" Poppy exclaims.

"Help Emilia get to the wall." Zac smiles at her. "Take your time, girls."

We both open our mouths to argue but the men are gone, disappearing into the undergrowth as though their lives depend on it.