Music suggestions:

Soon We'll Be Found - Sia

Make It Rain (The Voice Performance) - Matt McAndrew

***

"The very essence of instinct is that it's followed independently of reason." -Charles Darwin

Desperation is a strange, crippling thing.

Hoards of people are scattered across the street, barely moving, as if paralyzed by the realization that death was at their doorstep. Some cry, some scream. All of them had an indescribably terrifying glint in their eyes. It's as if they've fallen to complete despondency, but will jump at any moment in an animalistic tirade.

I try my best not to touch them as I search for my dad. Chase follows closely behind, scanning the parts of the crowd that I haven't looked over.

"It's like finding a needle in a haystack," Chase murmurs as we cover another block of people. I nod silently in agreement.

"Now would be the perfect time to explain why you and Dad are so hell-bent on going to the northern border," I say, glancing at my brother momentarily before refocusing on my earlier task.

"Left flank, next to the guy in plaid," Chase whispers, signalling that he sees our father. I whip my head around to look, but am disappointed after seeing the man turn around. Too short. Face is too round.

"No." I sigh as yet another look-alike gives us momentary hope. I just can't help but wonder where my dad went to. If he left last night, after leaving us at the hotel, then he could be anywhere by now. And, judging from the worried look on my brother's face, it looks like we won't be going anywhere until we find him.

"We found a way out," Chase says after a beat, answering my previous request. I stop and turn to stare at him.

"A way out? What are you talking about?" I ask a bit too loudly. Chase grimaces as a few people turn to look toward us. I try not to shake under their stares. It looks as if they're about to pounce us at any moment, as if we've disturbed them to the point of aggravation.

"At the northern border," Chase says, "There's an organization that's agreed to dispatch us to a safe station. I can't explain this to you right now." He glances nervously around us, nodding toward a little girl that seems to be fixated on us. She can't be more than 5 years old, and here she is, alone in this dangerous corner of the world. My heart warms a bit as I see her reach for the adult behind her, embracing them.

"A dispatch." And I leave it at that. I follow his directions, understanding that revealing something about an escape will leave us at the hands of desperate people. Desperate people act on instinct. And while instinct can save a person from death, it can also encourage immorality. I'm not too excited about being a victim to immorality.

A silent comradery comes between us as well continue looking for our father.

***

Minutes turn to hours, and we've come up with nothing. My feet ache with each step I take, but I refuse to finish until I spot his familiar face with growing stubble and icy, blue eyes.

"He's not here," I pant as we clear another block. "Wherever he went, he's probably back at this point. The only place we have any hope of finding him is back at the hotel."

Chase mumbles incoherently before steering us back to where we started. We share the same exhausted look as we retrace our steps.

"If he's not there, we'll have to move on without him," Chase says slowly, as if he's trying to break the news nicely.

"No," I reply before quickening my pace. I'm not leaving my dad. Abandoning our father when there's some kind of hope of saving us is exactly what I spent the past hours trying to avoid.

"Lia-"

"No! I'm not leaving Dad here to rot when we can easily wait and go to the border together." I feel Chase's eyes on me, but I refuse to look anywhere but ahead.

"Do you think I'm any less upset by this? We don't have much time, Lia. He knows where we're going, unlike you." I grimace slightly at his choice of words. Once again, I feel a thousand questions rising to the tip of my tongue. Why didn't they tell me? Couldn't they trust me?

"I don't give a damn about what he knows, Chase. We're going together, and if you can't agree to that, then I guess we'll part our ways." I don't really mean what I've said, but if my brother needs a scare tactic to get his head straight, then so be it.

"You know I won't leave you here, Lia," Chase grumbles, raking his hand through his hair. Before he adds anything else, the hotel finally comes into view. Disregarding our conversation, I sprint toward the front of the steps.

"No," I whisper as I approach the stairs. The bodies are still there, the stench of death starting to suffocate the air. I may have gotten up the first time, but stomaching another trip amongst corpses that I was too selfish to save would be impossible. Just yesterday, I was throwing a hissy fit about leaving the house. And now...

Now, I'm trying to stay calm while I'm surrounded by chaos.

"I'll go upstairs." Chase nods toward me, silently acknowledging my inability to go up with him. Regardless of whether I'm angry at him, I can trust him to check our room thoroughly. Chase has a tough exterior, but through recuperating after our mother's death together, I've noticed how sensitive he is. I know he's just as sick as I am from running up these steps, and he's probably wondering how much worse it will get if we stay here.

Ever since my dad and Chase walked in to find me standing next to my mother's dead body in the hospital, I've been treated with extreme sensitivity. Neither of them bring up what happened, leaving me to find my own type of coping mechanism. I suffered a mild, yet life-shattering case of PTSD shortly after my last hospital visit. I'd all but gouged my eyes out after seeing my mother's blackening hand every second of every day. Chase never asked me why I lost control of my hands so frequently, or why I would wake up screaming for help every night. He'd just walk into my room, being careful not to touch me, and would recount his day for me. That's all. Every conversation was superficial, but it somehow made the world seem ridiculously simple. Mom's last words would ring in my ears for hours on end until Chase would walk in and whisper some overdramatized story about how he managed to pull a prank on his teacher. Most of the doctors I visited suggested I go on medication, but seeing as they only made me more susceptible to nightmares, I diagnosed myself to a healthy dosage of simplicity. Chase gives me the option to ignore my worries, and I take it without question. We are by no means an easy-going pair of siblings, but we instinctually protect one another when it's necessary.

Like now.

"He's not there," Chase says as he descends the last step, looking particularly green. I flinch as he leans over and empties his stomach. "Sorry."

"No, no. It's fine. I would do the same." Looking over at the body count behind him, I consider emptying my own stomach. "What are we going to do?"

"We're going to keep moving, Lia," Chase says, holding up a hand before I can interrupt him. "We don't have enough time to wait for him. Take off is in a few hours and if we don't go right now, then we're dead."

Take off? What the hell is this dispatch, exactly?

"And you're sure Dad will find us there?" I ask nervously, my reserve breaking slowly.

Chase nods before replying, "Let's go find the car."

He leads me around the towering building, which I now realize looks almost like a hulk of metal-infused glass with steel roads snaking in and out of the pillars. This isn't the average hotel, and while it's surrounded by suburban houses, I doubt this border that Chase is talking about is like the rest of the commonwealth's borders.

I keep my thoughts to myself as we fully make our way around the building.

"Follow me," Chase murmurs, as if I wasn't doing so for nearly the entire day. We walk into the entrance of the parking lot, which is situated at the basement of the building. I shiver as I realize how dark it is inside. Are there bodies here, as well? Is this where the last disease strain was found?

I can practically smell the decay within the open space, but it seems as though it's completely deserted.

"Shit," Chase hisses as we stop before space #399. "No, this can't be happening. No."

I wince as he kicks a stone pillar. Half expecting his foot to break, I'm surprised he continues pacing and cursing words that I've never even heard of. Chase, the one who acts so calm and collected, the one who helped treat my trauma, is having a mental breakdown.

"What's wrong?" I ask, but I'm already expecting his answer.

"It's gone. The car is gone."

~~~

A/N: WHAAAAT? It's gone! Hahahaha. Sorry for the boring chapter, but believe me when I say it's going to get SUPER INTENSE very soon. This chapter is meant to show some of the dynamic between Chase and Lia, so I tried to avoid keeping it too action-packed. I promise you, next chapter, as well as the ones following, are going to knock your socks off. I'm so excited. It'll probably up within the next few days, so long as I actually send in my college applications (ugh), I'll be posting soon.

Please leave your questions/comments/concerns! I want to hear your feedback :)

Peace out,

Liliana