CHAPTER NINE

EVELYN'S DREAMS THAT NIGHT are plagued by vicious memories of when the world began to fall. Memories ranging from the beginning of the war to the outbreak of beasts rampaging through neighborhoods, destroying everything and everyone that crossed their paths. Her subconscious replays her family's deaths, each time the details she steadily blocks out resurfacing to place her back in time, living the predicament over and over again.

In one of her dreams, she's up in her room when there's a pounding on the door. She thinks she imagines it. Evelyn has always been the paranoid type, especially in the dead of night when the world seems pitch black. Still, she's too frightened to roll back over and go to sleep, so she tiptoes out of her room quickly to her older brother's across the hall. Granted she's technically an adult, her paranoia sometimes haunts her to the brink of tears, so it's an instinctive habit to flee to Max's room. The two have always been fairly close. Unlike most sisters, she'll miss her brother when he moves out in a few months.

Max is curled onto his side against the wall when she enters, which is his usual sleeping position. He doesn't move when she lays on top of his comforter and pulls her own blanket around her. He inhales deeply, though, a telltale sign that he's awake.

"Again?" he mumbles, his voice groggy.

"Sorry," she whispers. "It's been getting worse lately."

He sighs, shifting onto his back to look at her. "Evie, I really think a therapist is a good idea. It's nothing to be ashamed of."

She snorts. "I don't need a therapist for a hyperactive imagination."

"What are you going to do when I move out?"

"I doubt it'll be bad then. It's random."

He falls silent, but he's still looking at her. She stares at the ceiling to try and ignore his eyes. Max understands the boundaries with Evelyn. He knows what subjects to press and the subjects to let go. It's why they're so close, Evelyn thinks, because he comprehends that she can't always say what she's feeling. He knows the line she draws and he respects it.

Finally, he sighs again and rolls back over. "I bet they'd at least give you something to help you sleep."

"Yeah, and then they'll accidentally prescribe me the wrong amounts and I'll overdose and die in my sleep."

"Whatever, Evie. I'm just trying to help. You can't live like this every night where you scare yourself into three straight all-nighters."

"It hasn't been three nights, it's been two."

"My point has still been made."

She huffs and tucks the blanket around her tighter. Her eyes skitter rapidly around the dark room before she forces them shut. The second she does, she hears the pounding again that sounds like it's coming from the front door down the hall. Her heart picks up pace as she tries to block it out, but this time it's different.

This time Max sits up.

It startles her and she sits up as well, looking at his silhouette. "You heard it too?"

"Yeah. Stay here."

"Max, I'm eighteen years old--"

"And you're sleeping with you older brother because you're too paranoid for your own good. So stay here, okay?" He slides down to the foot of the bed so he doesn't have to crawl over Evelyn, then grabs a wooden baseball bat from his closet.

Evelyn sees a light flick on from under the door in the hallway.

"Dad must be up," Max concludes, walking to the door.

"What if it's not Dad? What if it's soldiers? I saw on the news yesterday that they're starting to enslave civilians--"

"Evie, you're doing it again."

"Well, this time it's possible."

"Stop getting ahead of yourself," he says, swinging open his bedroom door simultaneously.

Luckily, it is just their Dad in the hallway. Barefoot and clad in his favorite blue and yellow pajamas, he hushes Max the instant he sees him. Evelyn can't help but to get out of bed and trail after the two down the hall. The knocking starts up again, this time in short intervals of bangs. Evelyn jumps when she feels a hand on her shoulder, but it's only her mother with a worried expression and tousled hair.

Her father is at the end of the hallway when the front door breaks off its hinges and goes flying across the room. He doesn't have time to shout at his family before a wild creature tackles him. Evelyn screams as the corridor light illuminates the beast's face. The news had done a story on mysterious creatures being seen on the battlefield across seas, no one actually knowing what they are. But they look just like the beast clawing at her father.

The beast's head snaps up at her when she screams. She stifles another cry when red irises glare at her and fangs that only exist in fiction gleam with blood. Max immediately lunges with his bat, but the beast somehow catches it. Impossibly, it splinters in his fist before breaking completely.

Another creature enters the house, then another and another and...

Evelyn is pushed by her mother towards the back door. She slips on something wet and sticky on the tile in the kitchen. She leans over and vomits when realization dawns on her. Her father is no longer struggling, her brother is lost in the dark, and her mother is taken down from behind right when Evelyn looks up from being sick.

"Go!" her mother shouts. "Get out of here, Evelyn!"

Evelyn can't move. She stares in horror as the beast on top of her mother sinks his teeth in her neck. Evelyn can't breathe. She absorbs the scene in terror as her family begins to fade from existence.

Her mother can't speak, but manages to mouth the word "go" over and over again. Something snaps in Evelyn. Something in the pit of her stomach that ignites a hidden anger she never knew she had. She wants to scream in rage and attack the three beasts in spite. She wants to curse them and watch them all die by her hand. She wants to... she wants to...

Run.

***

Evelyn merely gasps when she awakes. The screams of her loved ones echo in her mind as she slowly sits up, rubbing her forehead. The room is still dark, though, there's moonlight slipping in from the balcony curtains. She glances over at Sasha, who's still soundly asleep beneath the plush covers. She hears snoring and peers up, confused at first by the foot propped atop the couch. Then she remembers it's only Locke.

Sasha and Locke had come upstairs not too long after Micah left so Evelyn could change out of her bloody dress. The three sat catching up which mainly consisted of Evelyn listening to their stories since she had none of her own to tell. She hadn't wanted to stay in this damned room again, but Sasha had dozed off and Locke had been too tired to leave, so Evelyn sucked it up and stayed, for their sake.

Knowing daylight is near and she can't go back to sleep after reliving the destruction of her life, she gingerly gets out of bed so as not to disturb Sasha. Her legs are still throbbing from the event the day before, but she can walk decently normal. A small limp still but nothing she can't handle herself.

With this fresh nightgown being a bit lengthier, she doesn't bother attempting to change. She carefully opens the door and clicks it softly behind her. A walk outside could do her some good, especially considering some air would help with her currently feeling like she's suffocating. She barely manages a single step before a door opens a little ways in front of her.

She rolls her eyes when Micah pokes his head out. "Seriously?" she whispers, glaring. "Do you have a camera on me or something?"

He frowns. "I heard the door shut. Thought I'd make sure everything was okay."

She blinks at this, then remembers his advanced hearing and rolls her eyes again. "Everything is fine. Don't you sleep?"

"No."

"Well, go try and leave me alone."

Micah ignores her and steps out of--what she supposes is--his room. "I actually wanted to ask your opinion on something."

She raises her eyebrows, surprised. "On what?"

"There are people sleeping in this hallway. Let's go downstairs."

He acts as if he's waiting to carry her down so she holds up a hand. "I can do this."

He doesn't bother arguing. Perhaps he's exhausted from it. Good.

It takes a while to get down the stairs, but she does it nonetheless and she's quite proud of herself for it. She gives Micah a smug grin to which he shakes his head at and continues walking. She follows him out the front door where he sits on the steps. She does the same. There's a slight midnight breeze that sends chills up her bare arms and legs.

Micah hesitates, then stares straight ahead and says, "Because you seem somewhat level-headed, I'm going to trust you with a small bit of information."

Evelyn perks up with this. She prays she gets valuable secrets that help answer an abundant amount of questions constantly frustrating her. She's careful not to speak, or even breathe too loudly, in fear that he may change his mind about confiding in her.

"I told you earlier I've been betrayed. By none other than my creator. I should've seen it coming, but I just had too much... hope. He promised me a cure to this monster I've become, and I was stupid enough to believe him. However, I'm afraid he's got bigger plans he never intended on sharing, and it's definitely got to do with all the children he forced us to take."

He goes quiet, which leaves Evelyn a bit confused. She treads carefully, knowing this may be her only chance to find resolution. "So... what do you need my opinion on?"

He glances sideways at her, a wry smile tugging the corner of his mouth. He shakes his head to himself, scoffing. "I don't know why I'm doing this, honestly."

"Doing what?"

"Trusting you."

She purses her lips. She won't let an opportunity slip through her fingers so easily. "You don't have to trust me to seek guidance... or something. What, scared I'm going to judge you?"

He sighs. "Scared you won't understand."

"I'm very understanding." She cringes at her own words.

Micah does too, and he actually laughs. "A pile of dirt is more understanding than you, no offense. You're very headstrong and, truthfully, it's a bit intimidating sometimes. No one should have to pretend to be so fearless."

She slides back on the stair to look at him properly. "I'm not pretending. 'Your' people don't scare me anymore than 'my' people do. I'm just immune to it all."

"No you aren't. Acting that way doesn't make it true, you know."

"I thought I was giving my opinion on something, not walking into a therapy session."

"Please. I'm the absolute last person eligible to be a therapist."

"You are pretty screwed up."

"Don't I know it."

She shifts back into a normal sitting position, clasping her hands between her knees. She chews the inside of her cheek while she musters the courage to speak her thoughts. "You know," she says softly, "I really am trustworthy. More or less, anyways."

He picks at his nails, what appears to be a subconscious habit, and averts his gaze. "I have contacts all across the nation. One of them is supposed to be arriving tomorrow morning. Thing is, I'm not sure how to tell him about my recent discovery."

"Well, what's the big deal? Are you scared of him?"

Micah snorts. "Not in the least bit. I'm insulted you'd even think such a thing."

Evelyn doesn't bother hiding her smirk.

"I'm not afraid of him," Micah says defensively. "But he's... worse off than the rest of us. His operation hadn't exactly been a 'success,' but it hadn't been a failure either. He wanted a cure more than any of us. He breaks out into uncontrollable rage fits randomly, and believe me, it's hard as hell to snap him back."

"So you're dealing with an overly emotional semi-failure that can't take bad news well?" Evelyn nods to herself. "Sounds like a typical high school student, if you ask me. You've just gotta bite the bullet and tell him."

Micah turns to stare at her. "I think we have two different ideas on what I mean by 'uncontrollable rage fits.'"

Evelyn frowns. "He's not going to like... start eating people are anything, right?"

Micah scratches the back of his neck, an obvious confirmation to her fear.

She groans and hangs her head. "You've gotta be kidding me." Then she stands, too anxious to sit any longer. "Okay, so chain him up when he gets here and put a muzzle on him. That'll work, right?"

Micah looks up at her. "Do you have chains that strong? Because I sure as hell haven't seen any lying around here."

"You said Harry is being kept on this property--"

"Two blocks down the road, actually. He wandered here when he smelled..." He trails off, as if thinking the rest of his sentence will hurt Evelyn's feelings. Fortunately, she doesn't have many left to hurt.

"Still. You can go down there, can't you? Surely there're chains there if they're keeping Harry tamed."

"But they aren't, are they? If they were, he wouldn't have escaped in the first place. Plus, I doubt the doctor is still there. He probably packed up the instant I left."

"What makes you so sure?"

Micah rubs his chin. "I broke his arm."

Evelyn's lips part. "With, like, your bare hands?"

"Maybe?"

"Seriously?"

"Do you want me to lie?"

"Whoa." Evelyn clears her throat and stands straighter, placing her hands on her hips. "Well, even if gimp left, he must've left behind something."

"Gimp," Micah repeats, sounding a bit fascinated by the word.

Evelyn keeps her train of thought going. "Or, we can keep him outside the gate. There's plenty of your men around for security, right? We can get everyone else on the other side of the property, so if he does get through, we'll have time to stop him."

"Gimp?" Micah says again, now a bit confused. Then Evelyn's words resonate with him and he stands as well. "Wait--we?"

Her cheeks flush. "Yeah. I deserve to be there now that I know everything."

He shakes his head quickly. "No. Absolutely not. You don't know everything, and I won't put you in a potentially dangerous ordeal. You still haven't fully recovered. You're a--what is it again? Right, you're a gimp yourself."

"I refuse to be--"

"I said no," Micah says firmly, his eyes narrowing. "There are some things I'll let slide, but this is not one of them. You don't know Talon like I do."

"Talon?"

"Trust me, you don't want to know how he got the name."

Oh, but she could come up with a few ideas for it--all of them making her shift uncomfortably on her feet.

"Still," she says. Her hands are starting to shake, which she blames on the breeze, so she folds her arms across her chest. "I want to help."

"If you want to help, for once please just listen to someone trying to look out for you. You will not be allowed anywhere near the front gate where you could be seen. Understood?"

She clenches her teeth at his tone of voice, as if she's a child enduring a lecture. Nonetheless, she gives him the nod he waits for and then goes up the stairs back indoors. The sun is rising, but she has time to get clothed and beat Micah to the front gate.

After all, this is as much her battle as it is his.