*TRIGGER WARNING FOR BRIEF MENTION OF SUICIDE ATTEMPT*

JESSICA

My beloved revolver having been confiscated by my ex, I sat in the passenger seat, defenseless and quite uncertain of where this was leading to. I, too, had no clue if my spontaneous offer slash deal promised a safe way out of the situation. Though I considered myself an impulsive and scrupulous figure at the same time, this one was an immensely dicey move. To suggest a joint journey with my mortal enemies--let alone revealing something that was to remain hidden until far later. In my defense, it did prove to buy us all some time.

Brie was a rough driver; more so than me. The girl's nature had reshaped itself to a somewhat violent, radical, and relentless one as it could be observed from her shocking exterior and driving fashion. She was no longer the meek, lovely girl I once knew. She was no longer the sweetheart. Not a trace of the gentle and humorous air of the woman in rippling orange hair and navy bartender's uniform remained in those raptorial green eyes. Even her freckles that defined her pure character to me were concealed under excessively heavy makeup. Her deep purple lips showed no emotion. I was disheartened, more than I allowed myself to show.

We shared no conversation for miles. I was peering outside the window the whole time, capturing the barren world in my eyes and simultaneously attempting to catch the chinks in our enemy's armor. It was to no avail. The raiders, or Blackmasks as they preferred to be referred as, rode on their motorcycles in such an orderly fashion, effectively surrounding our vehicles so that neither Erik, Josiah, nor Mikhailov could dream of pulling a trick on them. That woman, Fynna Sharde or whatever, would ride past my side of the car and glare at me through her black mask-helmet once in a while. There was no hope in seeking to pacify their group. They would have slaughtered everyone had I not jabbered out one of my secrets. The raider sitting in the back of this car was the one shot by Erik-he had exceptional hatred congealed inside of him for the blond. I would never let him get anywhere near the boy.

To my surprise, Brie was the first one to talk.

"You haven't changed," she said.

Okay? What was she doing? Being mellow? Suggesting a small talk?

"You have," I replied.

"I know," she tossed her short grey hair mixed with lines of vivid pink. "Thanks to you." Never mind about being mellow.

"The fuck is wrong with you, exactly?" I scowled. I had never pictured such a dramatic reunion with Gabriella, out of all people, out of all scenarios.

"Oh, you're the one to say so?" She raised her voice. It was shaking. Brie was great at masking her emotions, but I was always a better detector of it. "Do you really think you have the fucking right to speak to me like that after what you've put me through?"

"As far as I know, I never wronged you in any kind of way." I maintained my composure as I pulled the thick white gloves off my hands and tossed it on the front of the car. It was too hot to be in this suit.

"You discarded me without a word." Seething anger dropped from her lips.

"Never had I done such a thing," I barked. "You discarded me. And I had to hear that horrible news through the mouth of Harriet Winford." Harriet Winford was our mutual friend back in Las Vegas, a former 'best friend' of Brie. She used to get on my nerves quite often, but I could recall pushing that irritation down my stomach solely because she was Brie's best buddy before I came into the picture. I wanted to leave Brie a good impression; that I could be a hospitable, merciful and affable individual. A person worthy of being loved. Little did I know that it would all mean nothing in the end.

"Harriet Winford?" Brie's expression changed. Her eyebrows furrowed. "What in the world did she say to you?"

"Oh, simple," I spat sarcastically. "That you've gone to her. That you weren't interested in leaving the city. That I was ditched, basically." The pain of that memory still tattered my heart to smithereens. Time only served to fade the sting out temporarily; the more circumstances forced me to relive it, the more it hurt.

Brie opened and closed her mouths several times like a fish. Puzzlement was written all over her face. The faint malice I had for her changed into confusion for me as well. Her reaction told me a lot of things-that what I was saying did not make sense to her, and also that the motivation behind her pursuit all these years was made opaque by my statement. I knew at once where things had gone wrong. Harriet Winford.

"I don't buy it." She gritted her teeth decisively. "You're an untrustworthy bitch. I don't believe a single word you say. I don't even buy this Elysian City Patrol shit. Jerome is being ridiculous, taking you seriously."

"Brie," I continued before the damn girl could complain once more about my use of 'Brie', "What did Harriet tell you?"

Brie hysterically brushed her hair back and grunted out a short sound out of anguish. I was thankful she didn't choose to stomp on the accelerator to pulverize all of us in a car crash.

"Winford said you left me after taking the money!" She shouted. "But I killed her."

"I-Excuse me, what?"

I was thrown into consternation. Who killed who? I doubted Brie was being metaphorical. She was being literal.

"Harriet Winford," she explained, "informed me that after taking Jerome's money, you fled on your own. And then she said why not go with her when you'd already abandoned me? She told me she'd been wanting to be with me for a long time, and was going to confess her feelings when you suddenly appeared out of nowhere. Winford said now that you were gone, it was time for me to come to her."

"So you killed her?" I whispered. The Brie I knew was not the one to murder anyone out of spite. Especially not the best of friends. I had seen sparks in her like I had in Erik, but it was hardly enough to drive her to that level.

"No! Not right away, anyway." She hit the steering wheel.

'Not right away'?

"I was going to take myself out before Jerome found out. I was that helpless. I thought he would shred me to pieces because I freaking drugged him that night."

I stayed silent. I could only vaguely fathom what must have gone through Brie's mind on that very night where everything had fallen apart, bit by bit. Even though we were both deceived by Harriet Winford and neither was at fault, in that moment, in that atrocious moment, Brie was sure to have suffered the worst ideas infesting her brain. While I was running for my life out of the town, Brie was stuck inside with nowhere and no one to run to.

"...What stopped you?"

Brie scoffed. "Jerome King."

I could not believe what I was hearing.

"He found me standing with a razor blade against my wrist in my room next morning. He stopped me. And asked me why I didn't leave." She recounted her story, bitterness exuding from her tone. "I told him that you left me and that my 'friend' wanted to claim me now. I told him everything."

"He didn't vent or anything? He didn't hurt you?"

"No," she said. Brie was much composed than a minute ago. Retelling the story probably helped her organize her thoughts and calm down, unlike how that kind of thing only aggravated the hurt within for me.

"No?"

"He sympathized. He didn't blame me. He put the blame on you, and Harriet Winford. He suggested we cooperate in search of you so we could take revenge."

"And you agreed." I rolled up my sleeves, my countenance somber.

"Of course I agreed. I didn't want to die and I wanted to gut you for what you did to me." She shot a glance at me, ire evident in her eyes. "I wanted to make you pay. Every fiber of my body hated you." At least, 'hate' was in past tense. I didn't know what to think of this.

"Intense," I commented. There was nothing else to say. I couldn't cast a sarcastic remark or an apology.

"The first condition," she continued in a croaky voice, "was that I kill Harriet Winford so as to prove my usefulness. It was hard. I have to admit. But I did it anyway because I hated her as much as I hated you. She was the harbinger of bad news."

"...Just like that? You killed Harriet?" I never liked that woman, but imagining Brie taking her life in cold blood, was nothing I could picture smoothly in the frame of my mind. They were such close friends despite signs of fissures in their relationship showing above the surface several times during the period I had gotten to know both of them at Vegas. However, it was not enough to spur a brutal murder.

"Problem?" Brie hissed.

"You killed your best friend."

"Were you ever fond of her? In fact, were you ever fond of anyone besides me?" She argued. That question ignited a small fire of sadness in my heart. Brie used to be the only light of my pathetic life. That light, now, was snuffed out. I was surrounded by the cold. Even if we set things right between us, the bridge was already crossed and deteriorated after my pass. Things were never going to be the same for us. Ever.

"I have no idea what to say to you," I confessed. "But I'm...," I faltered. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry you had to go through that." Heaving a sigh, I stared directly into Brie's profile and bit my lip to refrain from reaching out to touch her. Just minutes ago, I was aching and engulfed in anger. Now I was only aching a little more.

"Never mind that," she grunted. "The second condition was that I cut my hair to represent the severance from my old self. Jerome King's way."

"Hence the...flashy new look?"

"I like it, so don't even make a joke out of it," she snapped. I nodded, a little unsure.

A moment of silence passed in between us. It was a brittle, but nevertheless a far more peaceful one than before. Through this talk, I was able to take in the information I necessitated to fill in the blank spaces in the giant puzzle. That is, if Brie was being entirely truthful.

"So." I scratched my arm, looking at the malformed plant life growing in a lush outside the window. "What's going to become of us?" Yes, I got straight to the point. I didn't like taking detours. Befuddlement was absolutely unwelcome.

"I don't know. I'll see when we get to meet that Patrol Leader or whatever," she said. There was still suspicion in her voice.

"He has nothing to do with our fucked up past."

"I know, but the existence of a proof that supports your absurd claims might as well prove the veracity of anything that comes out of your mouth. I still don't believe you about Harriet Winford telling you that stuff." It was more like she was choosing not to believe what I was saying. Her two years, the long, tedious two years she had spent alongside the very man we were striving to escape from, in order to find and seize her past lover; me; would simply have been in vain if all that I confessed was true. Once again, I had shaken up someone else's foundation upon which they chose to build their life. I guessed that was my hidden ability of some kind. Causing a ruckus and fit of emotional chaos wherever I go.

"So be it, then," I mumbled and sat back in a more comfortable position. An important meeting was approaching.

"...You two done talking?" A gruff voice from the back interposed. It was the raider. We had completely forgotten about his presence the entire time a very personal conversation was happening in the car. Our mental capacity had not allowed the intrusion of an outside individual as we were engaged in a way too heated rally. With a short intake of breath, I looked back.

"Yes." He seemed extremely uncomfortable.

"Because it looks like they're slowing down."

It was true. The trailer in front of us was slowing down. And they were taking a left, then right, then left again. We had entered the territory of Grand Canyon before we could even realize. I was overly focused on the talk to notice the change in surroundings. We were but a minute away from the destination, judging from the large, rusty sign that read 'GRAND CANYON VILLAGE' on the road. The letters were faded and dust covered the most of it, but it was still the name of the meeting point indeed. I swallowed out of anxiety but then shook that feeling away. I would be able to sort things out. Sometimes, overconfidence was a drawback, but this time, I was determined to make it an advantage.

All the vehicles came to a full stop. Brie turned off the engine and glanced once at the environment, then me. The place was overgrown with disfigured trees and brushes that certainly did not appear as the type of plants to belong here. Arizona was an extensive desert, and Grand Canyon, as I knew it, was supposed to be a typically picturesque yet arid area once deemed a national park of this country. The gorge was hidden behind a line of colossal shrubs.

To the right, there was a consecutive series of abandoned buildings. One of those was where Leroy Dawson was supposedly waiting for us to arrive. I had to check, first.

"Dawson, we've arrived. Are you there?" Click.

A few seconds passed.

"I'm waiting, Miss Garcia. You have the boy with you?" Click.

A low, serious voice answered through my freq.

"Yes. Erik's with me," I confirmed. Click.

"Come in. I'm in the fourth building from the left." Click.

"Going in." Click.

I put my gloves back on and fixed the hefty mask on my head. From head to toe, I was heavily protected from any possible radiation poisoning. I clicked my freq again to dial Erik.

"Get out." Click.

"I'm already outside," his voice replied. There was a knock on my window. Erik was suited up, and beside him, a raider in a rider jacket and a radiation-proof mask on was standing with a dagger in her hand. What? Was she going, too? Without a suit?

"Will be back," I hastily said to Brie, to which she gave a short nod. And then I hurriedly exited the car.

Jerome King emerged from the trailer with a full suit on and his rifle firmly stuck to his hands. It was quite unfair for them to be armed while we were ripped of any, but it would have to do. My only hope was Dawson and my instincts as of now. I gestured at Jerome so he would follow my lead. He appeared to be unhappy with this overall situation and me leading the way, but there was no alternative.

The four of us trudged across the rocky ground and passed three buildings that was destroyed by either time or post-war battles. The fourth one was in great shape, with the ceiling intact and a door still attached by the fringes. I hesitated for a second but then swung it open wide and stepped inside.

It took a bit of time to get adjusted to the dark that was in contrast to the reddish light outside. I blinked a few times and shook my head to accustom my eyes to the indoors atmosphere. Erik halted beside me and glanced around. The raider and Jerome entered, too, and scanned the area with their silent gaze.

It looked deserted.

Confusion swept over me. Was it not this building?

"Hello? Dawson? Leroy?" I hollered, but only my own voice echoed back to pulsate against my eardrums.

"Hello?" Erik tried again. Jerome narrowed his eyes and me and strengthened his grip on the rifle. The pink-haired raider tilted her head and held up her dagger.

However, the answer was out. This place was empty.

------

Hello, lovelies! Surprise! I found the time to write and upload my new chapter. Hope you enjoyed Chapter Twelve - The Past. We finally get to dive deeper into Jessica and Brie's past.

Thank you for reading! Comments and votes are appreciated.