Then everything came back.

The screams—his screams—rushing into my mind, echoing like I could see it all happening over again. They won't see us going through the back. We'll get to the supplies faster. Shit, not again. Why? Why did I tell him that? It was my fault.

Are you sure? No! Of course I wasn't sure. If I would've just listened to Daniel. God, he told me not to.... The way his wails pierced the air. How could have he known? It came out of nowhere. But I was supposed to be the one who died, not him. He got killed because of me. And I'd heard him...I'd heard him calling my name. He yelled for me while that monster tore off the flesh of his neck. The look in its eyes, like it enjoyed draining the life out of Daniel, plastered on my mind.

I couldn't breathe, but I deserved it. He would never breathe again. He wouldn't thanks to you. Everything started shrinking, locking me inside a bubble with no air and only the sound of his screams and pleads replaying over and over. I felt my heart hammering its way out of my chest, trying to get out, as the room started spinning.

Why couldn't it all go away? Why couldn't he stop screaming?

I gasped harder this time, but it was like a knot clogged my throat, stopping any oxygen from coming inside. Leave, Angel. No, no, no. "Get out of my head," I cried, feeling the wall sliding against me until the floor was under my knees. Call Gabriel, scream, do something. My desperate thoughts worsened the hurricane of memories flashing by. One second I saw the swaying room and the other Daniel was bleeding to death in front of me. The images cycled.

And I had left him there; I left him to die.

Breathe—but how? Scream—I couldn't. Remember—I did. I remembered everything.

I put my knees against my chest, curling involuntarily into a fetal position on the floor. I rocked, hoping it would all go away, but the bubble became smaller, tighter instead. He didn't write that note, I assured myself. He couldn't. Someone else did this. But why would someone do that? What could they possibly win?

He was gone.

Daniel was gone.

I couldn't breathe.

Blackness, creeping blackness.

It was all my fault....

I love you, Angel. And his eyes closed.

***

Knock, knock, knock....

The loud silence broke way to the faint thuds on the door, increasing in volume once my ears went back to normal. How long had it been? Hours? Minutes? Seconds? I didn't know. I couldn't tell. The only thing I could do was tremble, cradled in my own clammy arms as the tears dried out.

Another knock, but with a deep voice following it this time—definitely belonging to a man. "Ms. Grey? Boss wants to see you in his office. He's worried that you're not there."

God, why was he so loud? I grimaced, pressing my eyelids harder against each other, but I knew I had to answer. If they saw me like this again...they'd think I was mentally handicapped—for real this time. Dad would have the perfect excuse not to let me get close to the Scavenger missions again, and that seemed to be the only way I could cope with all of it. I had to keep myself busy so the memories didn't come back. So that this didn't happen.

Knock. "Ms. Grey? Are you there?"

Reply, say something, I ordered myself in snarled thoughts.

For the sake of my already damaged reputation, I had to. Everyone saw me as a wrecked mess after the incident, meaning another episode of these ones would worsen it all. "I'm coming," I wheezed, but I doubted he'd heard me. So I repeated myself, this time louder. "I'm coming."

"Is everything—"

"Everything's fine," I let out, begging and praying for him to quit annoying me so that I could at least try to put myself together again. Luckily, it didn't take too long before I heard the sound of his boots stomping down the hallway after that, leaving me alone with a faint sickness remaining from the tornado that had just gone through my mind.

I hated not knowing how to stop it. Despite my looking and looking for an off button every single time, I could never find one. And this time, this time it felt different—real. PTS is something you learn to cope with. Your mind is strong, but your willpower is stronger. That's what all the pamphlets at the infirmary—or rather the room we'd tagged as infirmary—said.

Their misconception on how PTS actually worked aggravated me.

Truth be told, they were simply filled with a bunch of crap to sugarcode the fact that, after probably seeing most your relatives and friends turn into cannibalistic creatures, you would have to grow a pair and deal with the world as it was—post-traumatic stress or not.

Here, there wasn't any kind of preference for veterans or heroes. We were all equally screwed, meaning you had to take care and bear with your own self.

And here I was, relieving but once again those episodes because of the stupid sticky note someone left there. Someone who was just playing a prank on you.... But—who?

Taking a deep breath, I let my eyes open. The room danced for a while longer around me. Regardless, though, I unfolded myself and sat up. I knew I couldn't take as much time as I wanted to, because the annoying guy would only come back.

The panting had evened out after a couple of minutes, making it easier for me to stand up completely. I took the sticky note without looking at it too much and threw it directly into the small, metallic bin in the corner of the room. The last thing I wanted was for it to keep reminding me of how trust was harder to acquire nowadays.

People here, they didn't care what it took to bring you down, and—naturally—they'd go for me, being the easiest target in terms of affecting my father. Everyone took advantage of everyone's weaknesses. But I couldn't think of that right now. Instead, reaching for the door knob, I yanked it open and hoped for the best when stepping into the hallway. Nobody appeared to be around, both ends' curves of the normally busy corridor being completely deserted—suspiciously quiet.

As if on cue, though, the sound of distant steps became louder until a shadow appeared to the right, making me jump and finish wiping the dried out paths of my tears. Not to look like an idiot standing still in the way, I turned to the left and started walking, too. I'd eventually reach the main office in a minute or two, and that came across as perfect since the last thing I wanted was to wander around the corridors.

With uncountable, never-ending paths that connected to the old mines, it seemed way too easy to get lost. Nobody was truly used to it yet, and so the rules were strict about staying in the blue-lighted sections of the underground base. Not to mention the soaring ceiling and rusted pipes covering each wall leaked, allowing small drops of undrinkable, toxic water to fall down on the cemented floor.

The only source we could use for decently potable water came from when it rained, and even then it wasn't enough. Two or three times every few weeks kept everyone on the verge of dehydration despite the efforts we did to filter the welled one in our disposition. It didn't cope with the amount of people living in these tunnels. We barely made it through.

"Lauren?" A familiar voice said, forcing me to a stop so that I could turn around.

"Maya, hi," I murmured, my voice still croaky from before. She was still a couple of meters away, so I waited until she was close enough to hug her slightly.

"You okay? I heard they were looking for you like ten minutes ago."

"I got caught up with something," I lied, pulling off a smile form lord knows where. "What's up?"

"Nothing much," she grumbled. "I gotta go fix some busted cables at Block C. Apparently the generator got overcharged and, well, kaboom."

"You're a technician, May. Why do you complain?"

"Because," she said slowly, lowering her voice. "I was supposed to meet Jared for brunch."

"Jared?" I asked, smiling while one of my eyebrows cocked in response. "I didn't know you two were—"

"Not dating," she retorted, cutting me off bluntly, but her brown eyes said otherwise.

"All right, whatever you say." I looked over to where the lights shone brighter, the tunnel getting a tad better in terms of shabbiness—walls painted in a creamy white, glass panels that were carefully polished, and different rooms linked all together to the main hall. "I should go, May. Dad will kill me if I'm late."

"I believe you," she said, shrugging her slim shoulders. "I'll let you know if I'm off the hook earlier so that we can get something to eat. Okay?"

"With Jared?" I teased her, starting to walk toward his office again.

"Will you shut up, Lauren?" Maya hissed, and I knew she'd probably blushed. "It may be the end of the world, but that doesn't mean people lost their sense of self-consciousness."

"Whatever," I said, glancing back to find her walking on the opposite direction, taking a turn in the adjacent corridor while the thick, black curls weighing down her hair swayed gently.

I missed that feeling: rushing through things to get at least a minute or two with that special someone. My hand trembled in response, but I held it tightly with the other and kept walking, reaching the doors where the words 'CONFERENCE ROOM. DO NOT DISTURB' were written clearly on the tempered glass. "Here we go," I murmured, lacking all joy as I entered the room—I certainly wasn't expecting such an empty meeting.

I counted four people in total: Gabe, Dad, the old guy who seemed to be always present in every single reunion we had—spending probably all his time locked in this room—and one of Dad's friends, Piper. (I was completely sure that wasn't her real name.) She stood in one of the corners next to the man, chatting softly while Dad and Gabe spoke rather loudly.

"For the third time, Gabriel, I am not the one responsible for what is happening out—" my father stopped talking abruptly when he noticed I was standing there, his weary factions softening. "Lauren, about time you got here, sweetie."

"Yeah, sorry about the delay. Uh, my shower wasn't working." Great, now he will—

"Oh, that's weird. I'll send the maintenance guy to check on it after we're done here." Smooth, Lauren, smooth. "But have a seat now. There are some things I wanted to fill you in with."

"Does it have to do with what happened in Block C last night?" I asked innocently, pretending I was absolutely clueless about it all. Gabriel's eyes widened at first, though they'd gone back to normal as soon as he heard the rest of my question.

"Not quite that, but yes. There was a variation in the electromagnetic current we've got on the outside—the one directly connected to our generator—and it ended up causing an electrical overload in its system."

"Maya told me about it," I said, nodding. "She's headed there right now to fix it."

"She is?" Gabe inquired, suddenly too interested on the chat. By the look in my eyes, he must've known what I was thinking, because he corrected himself almost immediately. "What? Just curious."

Dad disregarded him, turning to Piper and the guy whose name still remained unknown to me. To be fair, though, I didn't recall hearing it ever. "Pipe, Hugo,"—there it was—"Please join us." Both stopped talking for a second, heading in unison to their respective chairs without any hesitation. While sitting down myself, I took a brief second to examine them.

Hugo, for instance, hadn't trimmed his beard for a while, letting it grow wildly as if it had a life of its own. He must've loved the way its curly, white hairs felt, because—for the time I'd been here and in that precise moment—his fingers stayed still on it, playing with some of the single curls while he spoke. The fifty-year-old reflected boredom, those green eyes becoming a matte green that would creep anyone out when he looked at you for too long.

Piper, on the contrary, irradiated life. With the extravagant hair color she had—since dyeing hair in a homemade, rustic way with the chemicals you could find was the new trend—it appeared as if an explosion of grape juice had occurred in her head. She wore the same uniform as I did, but something told me there would be one hell of an exotic dress replacing the jumpsuit if it weren't for that dress code policy—yet here we were, bound to use the same clothes to resemble equality.

"So, I received some news yesterday night," Dad began, guiding my attention to where it was supposed to be. Nodding, I gave him a sign to continue. "You know Stanley, right? My friend—the one who works as chief in the base at Ohio? Well, he gave a call...."

"And?"

"They were able to grow two fields of crops. Potatoes, to be exact. No one's really sure how it happened, but the farmers were able to neutralize the ground's infertility and put the seeds in without trouble."

"Wow," I said, pretending to be as surprised as when Gabe told me the first time.

"Yes, I was impressed myself, too, but there's a slight problem." Of course. I knew it. "Not only did the growing crops deal happened...but Stanley told me—and this isn't completely accurate yet—they might've found a cure for the Virus, as well."

"Beg your pardon?" I asked in a whisper, feeling my heartrate increasing. I looked over at Gabriel, who had just so happened to omit that part before, but he looked down. "Wait—how is them finding a cure a problem, Dad?" I said, shifting my gaze back to his eyes.

"Well, rumors spread quickly, Lauren," he began. "They were able to keep the crops quiet for these past two weeks, but when one of them found the way to immunize the Virus and turn it into a vaccine, the news were spread around quickly. The Outside People know."

I could see Hugo curling the hairs of his beard tighter, as if what he heard caused him horrible discomfort. "They deserve to know anyway, Dad. It's their lives, too."

"She's right, Vincent," Piper said, looking at my father with a careful look on her face.

"They hate us." Gabriel sighed, shifting in his chair. "And now that they know we have access to a cure, they're gonna plan a way to steal it or take it all for them."

"Just because they preferred to live in the surface instead of being bound to rules down here doesn't mean they are any different from us, Gabe." I leaned forward, planting my elbows firmly over the wooden table. "We should respect them. They cope with the Wendigos day and night."

"By choice," he snarled.

"Why do you hate them so much?" My eyes were fixed on Gabriel, waiting for him to reply, but it was Dad who did it first.

"Your mother trusted the Outside People and look what that got her." His teeth gritted, resembling my brother's reaction. "These are savages, Lauren. They don't have any authority or limits. Stealing, killing...that's part of their daily life. For them, if you find something you want, you take it regardless of the price."

"Like it is any different from what we did before," I muttered.

Dad sighed, taking his time to reply and making it more awkward since Hugo and Piper refused to comment. "I guess Gabriel was right," he finally said, launching the missile at me without any warnings. "You have changed, Lauren."

"Christ, Dad! Would you two cut me some slack already? What is the matter?"

"That boy changed your point of view for one that cannot tell the difference between stupidities and real-life problems."

I felt my mouth falling wide open, his eyes sparkling with a restrained anger. "Excuse me?"

"Maybe we should calm down," Piper suggested, but thirty years hadn't been enough to teach her how to be slightly convincing or even persuasive at all. "We're here to talk about how we will handle the situation with the Outside People, the crops, and getting that vaccine for our people."

My knuckles became white over the table, and Gabriel noticed since his eyes were pinned on them. "What did you just say to me?" I repeated, ignoring Piper.

"Ever since you got together with that boy, you started thinking differently. It's like you can only see the negative side to opportunities and the positive side to lost causes. My daughter, the one I raised, would never consider savages, humans. And what is it with you believing the Wendigos, or whatever you call those, can still be saved?"

How could he speak like that? "They're not savages. Some of them aren't far into the change. If we figure something out, we could try to help them go back."

"Laurie, are you listening to what you're saying right now?" Gabriel asked, running his fingers through the black hair in his head.

"Dad," I said softly, trying to figure out the right way to make both of them understand. "Mom helped the people out there because she wanted to. She knew those were innocent kids, mothers, fathers, brothers, or whatever. It was her decision to be there when the attack happened. And the Virus hadn't even happened yet, so you cannot blame it on the Wendigos, either."

He stood up, his hands balled into shaky fists, the veins in his arms popping. "How can you see people who kill for anything they desire as innocent? They know about the cure and the crops. They want it all for them." He let out a puff of air, putting both hands on the back of the chair. "This is all your little ex-boyfriend's fault, dear. Thank God one of them killed hi—"

"Stop!" I yelled, feeling my blood boiling to its limit. "Stop talking about him like you knew him, Dad...."

He seemed surprised by my words, frowning while Gabriel swished his head slowly. "Daniel Kilgour was a good kid, Vincent," Hugo said, surprising me with the sudden contribution.

"He brainwashed my daughter!"

"Dad," Gabriel started, looking up at him with tired eyes. "Yelling won't—"

"I knew it had to be teenage romance," he spoke over Gabe, letting out a small laugh. "But it's okay, Lauren. It's not your fault that he corrupted you. This whole stage of you seeing only the good in people will go away eventually."

"Why are you acting like this?" I stood up, staring right into his eyes. They were acquiring a pinkish color, and that's when it hit me. "Are you drinking again?"

He remained quiet, looking down at the floor. "I found the little napkin where she wrote our wedding vows..." he whispered, his lower lip quivering slightly.

"God, Vincent," Piper said mutedly, followed by Hugo's sigh and unconscious action of reaching a hand to his beard once again.

Gabe stood up, putting one of his hands firmly over Dad's shoulder. "S'Okay, Dad. We—"

But he wasn't able to finish, a howling alarm echoing through the air cutting him short. I caught Piper jumping from her seat and Hugo getting on his feet slowly, both looking up at the ceiling. "What the hell is that?" She screamed over the noise—or at least tried.

"Not something good; I can assure you that." Standing up, I noticed the door banging into the wall when someone pushed it open. A slim man, not younger than Gabriel and I, perhaps in his early twenties, slumped into the room with a panicked expression. I could tell his breathing was hectic without the necessity to hear over the loud alarm, and nothing about him seemed to be carrying good news.

"Sir!" I heard the guy scream, doing an effort to read the lips since the noise muffled anything that came out of his mouth. "The East section collapsed."

"What?" Dad pushed Gabriel aside, approaching him in a hurry.

"They found a way in," the guy yelled back, his eyes horrified. "We're exposed."