Foxtrot.

Foxtrot. Unlike Xray, I'm not too displeased with my name. Besides, it means my odds of survival aren't good, but a hell of a lot better than Xray's.

The worst part about stalking Xray is that I waited it out. I can't believe I waited it out.

I knew Alpha, Bravo, Charlie, Delta and Echo would immediately all go after Zulu as the weakest, and obviously Alpha would reach her first, and then the next would be Yankee, who most likely also be killed by Alpha, and if not Bravo.

And Xray will be their prime target next. I decided to think two steps ahead and not chase the same ends all the bests were, so when I saw Xray launch immediately out the city the previous morning, it was an opportunity literally screaming in my face.

I stand at the bottom of the barn on the other side as he watches the sunrise. I would too, since it will be his last, and I reckon he knows it. Even if he doesn't know I'm here, which presumably he doesn't, he knows no amount of running could ever escape Alpha or Bravo or even Charlie, probably not Delta or Echo either. And it hasn't me.

I'm going to be the one to kill Xray before any of the others can even figure out where he'd gone. Today, as the sun rises, he'll fall.

I rub my thumb over the black square on my wrist, shivering as the concept is delivered to my brain that it's attached to my veins. So, if I force this off; screwdriver, wrench, cow's mouth - will I die? Rip, bleed, die.

Sounds like an alright way to go compared to what I'll probably end up facing. I've got my money on Bravo killing me - she's hated me ever since she figured out she doesn't know how to do anything other than kill and train to kill, and I do.

And we used to be so close. She's the one of the few amongst the twenty-six that I would've ever called a sister without the slightest hesitation or regret, alongside India. And then we just kind of grew apart. She conceded to what the Crazies wanted, but I held a certain sign of reluctance, and we grew more distant.

For some reason, I'm surprised at how content I am with everything that's happened. The little foster-care for the Valens drug project just didn't calculate. It was never going to work, and if it did, where would we, the experiments, go from there? There was going to be no end to the story, so they just cut it off half way through.

This is the second half, here, right now. And the Crazies want nothing to do with it.

So, I guess I didn't go through the massive shock phase everyone else seemed to temporarily be twirling around in for a few hours. I was distressed, yes, and frightened, which I still am, but being scared isn't going to keep me alive, especially when I'm the one that needs to be playing predator.

I'm Foxtrot. I've had the fifth largest amount of Valens synced with my body out of twenty-six. I'm in the half of the alphabet that isn't hiding and crying, I'm the one making them do so.

So why, I must ask, does a tear escape my clutches as I wait for Xray to jump down from this barn for me to kill.

Why does setting the trap like this, like I'm supposed to, like I'm designed to, gnash at my stomach and beat at my heart.

Because I'm killing a brother, and I just don't want to.

You'd think in my situation my wants wouldn't matter anymore, but unfortunately they seem to be pulling the strings.

I see Xray jump from the top of the barn, two storeys up, and just stand there for a moment in the long grass. There's no squelching to be heard.

It's a shame that all the last letters are dying, since they'd be the most likely to survive under non-murderous circumstances since their bodies haven't relied so heavily on the drug that all the early letter became so driven by.

It's a shame. Because really they're the survivors, and we're the ones taking that away from them.

I step around the corner of the wooden wreck, my shoes being plugged into the mud every time I try to proceed.

By my second step he turns around and I raise my gun. His gaze meeting mine and the grinding of the slide being pulled back share the same second.

"Hi, Xray."