Riley would have.

Not will.

My expression freezes and my fingers dig into the wood of the window sill.

"Ri... Riley would have?" I manage to force the question through my lips.

Bridget whirls back to face me, an apologetic look on her face as she takes in my expression. "Oh, I'm so sorry! I forgot that you knew him too."

Knew him.

"What... uh," I crick my neck, my eyes closing. "What do you mean?"

Bridget's head drops. "He didn't make it to the South."

I've been punched in the chest.

I can't breathe.

I can't focus.

I can't understand.

"Excuse me?" The words pour out of my mouth, only they don't sound like me at all.

"Him and Zac were caught by the Enforcers as they were trying to get through the wall."

Hope soars through my heart. They were caught.

"He sacrificed himself so that Zac could get away."

The hope bursts into flame. A full on bomb-scale sized explosion. Just like those from the war days.

"Sacrifice," I echo. The word tastes like dirt on my tongue. Sacrifice. Why would he sacrifice himself? It's not true, it can't be. He promised that he'd be back, assured me that our first kiss wasn't going to be the last one he'd ever have...

"It... he... he used a grenade," Bridget delivers the final blow.

My chest caves in. My heart splits down the middle. I'm not here. I can't be here.

Agony erupts through my fingers as they dig deep into the wood, splintering. I don't move them. I can't. I can't hear anything else that's being said.

My ears are ringing as I stare at the stupid wooden floor that Jesse polished three days ago. And why did he do that? What was the fucking point of polishing the floor? What is ever the fucking point?

"Kayla? Are you okay?" Bridget's suddenly in front of me, her brow furrowed with worry as she stoops, placing one hand on my shoulder. She's confused. She didn't know that we... No-one knew that we...

"Kayla," Jesse's voice is soft, but I can't bring myself to look up at him.

"Please, excuse me," I say. The voice leaving my mouth is still so wrong. It's hollow, void of emotion.

I don't think I'm actually here.

It's another nightmare. It's just another nightmare, surely?

Bridget reluctantly nods, but steps backwards to give me space.

My teeth bite down on the inside of my cheeks as I finally detach my fingers from the wood. Standing straight, I walk past her, heading for the door.

As soon as I'm free of the confines of the room, my hand springs to my mouth, a sob erupting from behind it, unable to be contained. I run down the length of the corridor, away from all of them and fly into the dining room at the end.

My hands thrust out in front of me as I approach the long table. They hold me up as I lean against it, but as another cry leaves my lips they give out, not strong enough to hold me up. I fall to the floor beside the table as tears stream down my face.

"Kayla?" My name is called softly, but I don't turn to look at Carl.

Within a few seconds, his arms are scooting under mine, pulling me away from the floor and into his arms. My head falls against his chest and the sobs fall from my mouth even louder.

"It's okay," he whispers, running his hand down my hairline. "Let it out. Let it out." His voice cracks on the final word, and it only ruins me further. This was his best friend. Carl's broken too.

I'm hysterical. Clawing at his chest. Clawing at myself. Struggling to breathe. Sob after sob wrecking my voice box.

And still, Carl lets me rip loose, holding me against him, and not saying a single word as my heart breaks inside my chest. Splinters into a thousand pieces.

Riley's never coming back to the North. He's never going to see what I achieved. Never tell me he's proud. That he always knew I could do it. Never going to fight me for some of my rooms. Never going to kiss me. Hold me. Fall in love with me...

A half scream-half sob erupts through my lips and Carl's grip tightens as my body goes slack.

*~*~*

"Should we do something?" I hear Pippa whisper to Jesse from the entrance of the room. He's been standing there for over an hour, his presence silent, but foreboding. Pippa only arrived five minutes ago, taking over from Carl while he's gone to answer one of Pete's queries about whether he can go shopping for another bed.

And by that, it means he wants to raid all the local houses to find the best one.

Jesse cursed Pete, telling Carl that we all have bigger things to worry about.

But does he? Does Pete really have bigger problems, right now? He doesn't know. None of them do.

They don't know that their friend isn't coming home. That he's dead.

None of them have been told yet.

Because I'm the leader. I'm the one who should do it.

I close my eyes once more, desperate to stop the tears that are pooling inside my eyes from leaking out once more. I fail.

Oh, well.

"There's nothing we can do," Jesse answers Pippa in a quiet voice.

I blink, staring ahead, out the bright windows of my bedroom to the green hill beyond. How many times have I imagined the moment that I would show Riley this view...

My legs are curled against my chest, toes digging into the fabric of the armchair. My index finger toys with the dog tags around my neck.

Jesse and Pippa think I'm not listening, that I'm not really here with them.

And I'm not... not really. But I can still hear everything they're saying. I just don't want to deal with it.

Not now.

Not ever.

*~*~*

I'm all alone.

For the first time in two days, they've left me completely alone. I nearly turned around when Carl left, in disbelief at the fact. They care too much about me...

But now, they've all gone. Whispering to themselves before ducking out and closing the door behind them.

Still, I don't move.

Today, I'm on the futon at the end of the bed, leaning back so that my spine is resting against one of the posts of the four poster bed. The bed Riley was supposed to join me in...

The door suddenly creaks open. My eyes close. Of course they didn't leave me alone for long.

"Kayla?"

My eyes spring open at the voice and surprise fills me.

"Kayla?" She steps into the room, making her way across the room before stepping into my line of sight. "Oh, Kayla." She drops to her haunches in front of me. Her bright blue eyes are full of sorrow and she reaches for my cold hands, squeezing them with hers. "Jesus, you're freezing!"

I just blink.

"I'm so sorry, Kayla. I had no idea," Bridget murmurs. "I didn't know that you and him..." She trails off.

For the first time in days, my brow furrows and I avert my gaze to my lap. Me and him. Me and him. We weren't ever really anything. We never got to be anything.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, tightening her grip on my fingers. I zone out. She wraps another blanket around my shoulders before stepping out of the room and calling for Jesse. He steps in after a few minutes, making a tiny fire in a tin can before standing it in the fireplace. Bridget urges me to move over to the sofa and I reluctantly do, shifting my legs from underneath me and padding across the floor.

Jesse adds some socks to my feet. Bridget forces my arms into another hoodie. Rayden's hoodie. Someone else who died.

Tears slip down my face all over again and I hug my arms around my ribs, ducking my head and staring into the flames as they fuss around me, trying to keep me alive.

*~*~*

The next morning, Bridget and Pippa drag me into the bathroom, pushing my head backwards and washing my hair in the sink. They wrap it up, force me to get in the bath and insist that I wash my body. I stay in for all of three minutes before standing and wrapping the fluffy blue towel around me. They aren't happy, I can tell by the frowns on their faces, but I'm passed caring.

They force me into a new pair of leggings and a woolly jumper that Emilia left behind. It's baggy on me, just like all her tops are. Fluffy socks are shoved onto my feet, and then Bridget is combing my hair softly, whispering to me that everything is going to be okay.

I hope so.

But I don't know how it can be.

*~*~*

"Eat, Kayla," Jesse orders me. I stare down at the plate in front of me before nodding, reaching forward and picking up a singular cube of meat. He sighs, sitting back and running his hand through his hair. "More. Eat more," he murmurs. Slowly, I reach for one more. And then, after his glare makes me shiver, I shove two extra cubes inside my mouth.

The door to my bedroom is shoved open and Bridget and Carl enter, uncertain expressions on their faces.

"What is it?" Jesse asks, shifting upright, his brow furrowing.

Grateful that the attention is no longer on me, I lean forward and deposit my plate on the bed beside me. Jesse stands from his seat next to me, placing his hands on his hips as he waits for the others to explain themselves.

I avert my gaze down to the green blanket that covers my body, reaching out and intertwining my fingers through the material.

"We're running out of time," Bridget murmurs. "I've been here for nearly three days and I haven't contacted the others to tell them I got here safely. They'll be worrying."

"So, what's the issue?" Jesse replies. "Do it."

Bridget hesitates before answering, "There's no way that Emilia is going to accept not talking to Kayla. She's been worried about her ever since they stepped foot in the South. She needs to hear her voice or she's going to think that we're hiding something."

"We are," Jesse hisses in response.

"That's another thing," Carl murmurs. "Pippa got asked by five people where Kayla was this morning. You know that Kayla's always out there with everyone."

"Then tell them she's ill," Jesse counters. "It happens."

Carl shifts on his feet and Bridget hums. "We don't want them to worry."

"Worry? I'm fucking worried," Jesse snaps. "Look at her."

All of their eyes snap towards me. I swallow the lump in my throat before playing with the blanket once more.

"We're running out of time," Bridget says softly.

"I don't care."

"Jess—"

"She's not ready."

"I agree, but without her, it could disturb their mission down South," Carl answers my friendly Enforcer.

Enforcers... What the hell am I supposed to do about the one I got for Riley? He was supposed to get his revenge, the same way I did... 

I close my eyes.

"This is true," Bridget mutters.

"Just tell them she's ill."

"For how long? A day? A week?" Bridget hisses. "Emilia won't tolerate it for long—"

"I'm not forcing her—"

"No-one's forcing anyone to do anything—"

"That's what it sounds like to me—"

"You're jumping to conclusions."

"You're giving her a way out."

"I am not!"

"I'll do it." My voice is raspy from next to no use, but I force the words out anyway. All of their attention turns to me.

"Kay—"

"It's fine," I mutter, cutting Carl off. Shifting under the blanket, I slowly sit up and nod at Bridget. "I'll speak to Emilia."

Bridget nods, her eyes brightening before she disappears out of the room for only a minute before returning, a military grade walkie talkie in hand. It looks modified... but I don't care enough to ask more about it anymore.

Bridget presses a button and static instantly fills the room. She's chattering away to someone straight away before suddenly she thrusts the device towards me. Taking a deep breath, I reach out, taking it from her hand and closing my eyes.

"Mils?" I say softly. It's too soft. Clearing my throat, I try once more, "Mils?"

The static buzz reverberates around the room for only five seconds before her bright, excitable voice travels through. "Kayla? Oh my God, you're okay! You're alive!" Emilia sounds so excited that my head drops to my chest, tears forming in my eyes once more. Carl reaches out, curling his hand around mine and squeezing reassuringly.

Swallowing once more, I reply in the happiest voice I can muster, "Of course I am. Glad to hear you're hanging on in there too."

"Wait! Kayla, Lyla—"

"We grabbed her this morning," I interrupt her with a lie, shooting a glance to the blonde girl beside my bed. As far as I'm aware, we captured her two mornings ago. "Well, Bridget did. I'm not sure what's going on but I'm sure she'll tell me soon."

"She will," Emilia answers. "I'm so happy to hear your voice."

"Likewise. Sounds like you're lucky to still be alive from what Bridget told me." The words slip through my lips without me thinking any of them through. Carl tightens his hold on me.

"Something like that." Emilia's voice has dropped an octave. It's forlorn.

Tears flow over my eyelids and I look up at the ceiling, desperately trying to blink them away. It doesn't work. "I'm sorry about Riley," I manage to whisper. Something painful slices through my heart. "And Kieran."

I hear her suck in a breath before she changes the subject. "How is it up North?"

"It's okay," I admit. "We've gained good ground, recruited quite a few people... even some Enforcers," I pause. "The ones left in Nottingham don't have much to enforce anymore since the marriage system broke down. Now it's just pure chaos there."

"Fucking hell," I hear Jordan mutter. A small surge of warmth spreads through my torso. Two of them are okay. Two of my friends are fine.

"Where's Zac?" I ask softly.

Emilia falls silent. I bite my lip, readying myself for more heartbreak. Only, she sighs and eventually replies, "Off somewhere trying to play the fucking hero."

"Nothing new there then," I say.

She agrees with me before telling me that the South is hell on Earth, and that they've found nothing to help us down there. After a couple of minutes, someone named Callum takes the device away from her, so I hand it back to Bridget, letting her finish up the transmission. She leaves the room, the atmosphere silent and tense as my mind reels.

I just spoke to Emilia.

Emilia.

Emilia who's in the South.

Emilia who made it South.

With her husband, Zac.

Zac made it South.

Because Riley sacrificed himself.

Pain bursts across my forehead and I reach up, clutching at it with my fingers as cries shake my body all over again.

I'm sore, I'm breathless, I'm achy. And yet the hysterical sobs come pouring out of me all over again.