CHAPTER FOUR

EVELYN'S FEET ARE HEAVY as the group walks alongside the treeline searching for the road. She's not quite sure what to expect anymore, not that she knew to begin with. Her mind has started to race and race and race and she can't stop it. She feels guilty but she also feels scared. Scared because Michelle had been the only one who could create a serum to counteract the aggressive one the doctor injected Harry with.

Would he go completely crazy now?

Would he succumb and leave her abandoned?

She tries not to think that way. Harry managed without the injections before while fighting the demons in his mind. She's sure he's strong enough to manage again. He's strong enough to do everything she knows she'd never have the guts to conquer.

Amongst the many problems circulating the recent events, there's one that sticks out the most--Asher's soulless eyes.

When she blinks, that's all she sees. She sees the boy's manic smile as she drives the dagger into his flesh, his black eyes wide open. She sees Asher fall backwards with the same grin and with Killian's arrow piercing his forehead. She tries to keep her eyes open, but unfortunately it's not humanly possible to go without blinking. Her heart stumbles each brief moment her eyes shut.

Harry knows her too well. He keeps tossing her wary glances every time she inhales sharply. He waits until Micah leads the group farther away before he gently grabs her arm, forcing her to a stop.

"What's going on, Evelyn?" he asks quietly, his eyes boring into her with absolute concern.

She fumbles with her hands, unsure what to do with them so she stuffs them in her jacket pockets. "I... I didn't tell you everything. About when..." She trails off, her jaw clenching so tightly her teeth ache. "When the doctor captured me, he gave me two tests. The first was killing three of those experiments-gone-wrong psychos in a small room. The second..."

She lets out a deep breath, though, a lump clogs her throat. "I had to fight one of those... children. I had to-to--"

She doesn't continue.

She can't.

Harry pulls her in close, rubbing her back.

Neither of them speak for a few minutes. Eventually, she forces herself away from him so they don't get too far behind. He doesn't argue, but he takes her hand and holds it tight.

***

Harry is terrified. Of going crazy. Of losing control with no chance of regaining it.

Michelle had been his only hope.

And now she's gone.

Right when everything started to appear as if it would get better, of course the illusion crumbled. He should know by now to not think in such a way. He always jinx it when he begins to feel relieved, so he needs to stifle the emotion any time he may feel it. He doesn't know what he'd do if it were to someday be Robbie or Evelyn. The thought alone makes him nauseous.

He keep his eye on Robbie and his hand intertwined with Evelyn's.

He's not taking any risks.

Suddenly, he hears a shout up ahead. Of course he's the only one who heard it. Not even Micah perks up. He tugs Evelyn up to the front with him, detaching from her only to halt Micah.

"There's people up here," he says.

Micah frowns, his lips twitching in annoyance. Harry knows he's envious, but if only Micah knew how terrible it was to be this way. "How many?"

"Sounds like a camp full."

"Great. That's what we're here for, right?"

Harry sucks in a breath as he continues to listen to the shouts. "I don't think we should involve ourselves."

Micah catches on and chuckles in frustration. "Let me guess: die-hard vampire slayers?"

"He, uh... the leader, I assume, just gave the okay to torch the pit. Full of experiments," Harry says slowly, making sure each of them hear his words carefully. It doesn't sound like this horde of Normals will be easy to get along with if they're such pyromaniacs.

"Oh, lovely. It is quite cold out here, isn't it?" Micah says sardonically. "Let's go introduce ourselves and ask if they can spare a cup of tea."

Killian steps up. "I know this might sound really stupid but... maybe both of you should reveal yourselves."

Micah whips around to face him, baffled and--hurt.

"Hear me out," Killian says quickly, holding his hands up. "If they were able to get a pit-full of... experiments, that means they have one hell of a security system, right?"

Harry purses his lips. "More or less."

"So you two should scope it out. There's no telling if they'll even trust us, so I'm thinking we need a diversion to even get inside."

Evelyn hums. "I get his point. At least you two will know the area--"

"You're saying we should get caught?" Micah asks in disbelief.

"I'm saying you can lead the head patrol astray," she retorts. "If they catch sight of both of you near they're camp, they'll no doubt follow because they'll think you two are the biggest threats around. That'll force us to take to a less experienced guard who might just let us in."

Harry rubs his forehead while Micah groans. "You're serious?"

She shrugs. "We could just walk up to the gates, but they'll probably shoot the both of you on sight."

Abruptly there's screaming. It's so loudly that the entire group can hear without any enhancements. It's the agonizing cries of the burning experiments inside the camp. Robbie and Caroline both curl into Evelyn while Maxie folds her arms around herself tightly, shivering but not from the cold.

Micah huffs. "Right then. Let's get this suicidal plan over with."

Killian squeezes his shoulder. "Be careful."

Harry embraces Evelyn and says, "Wait for us to be out of sight before you go."

She nods.

He reluctantly leaves her with Micah at his side. The two whisper about how they should go about this. Micah thinks he should throw rocks until they get annoyed and chase him. Harry says they should go for something more subtle that'll catch their attention. Neither of them want to do this at all, but if it'll find Sasha...

"You know," Micah says as the two crouch at the treeline, watching the patrols walk back and forth. "We could take the four of them right now. Enter by force."

"I thought you didn't like suicidal plans?"

"Well, if I'm going to kill myself, at least I can enjoy a feast on my way out."

Harry cringes and shakes his head.

Micah grins. "Lighten up."

Harry studies the pattern of the soldiers. "See the one on the far right? We could start with him. The others will notice."

"'Start with' as in eat or..."

Harry gives him a sharp glare and Micah grins again before falling quiet.

The two maneuver into position, waiting for the guard to stride near them. When he does, Micah darts out and covers the man's mouth, dragging him quickly back into the cover of the trees. Micah strangles the man long enough to render him unconscious, but not to kill him. Harry offers an approved nod and Micah rolls his eyes.

The second guard is just as easy to disable, but after snatching him, the third notices immediately. "We've got live ones!" he yells, pushing a button on the gate that neither Micah nor Harry saw.

"I swear to God if that's an alarm," Micah grumbles just as the gate slings open and about fifteen men file out armed to the teeth. "Oh, this is bullshit."

"Didn't see that coming," Harry mumbles just as both of them stand to run.

Instantly, they're followed by thundering footsteps and shouts. He glances back just in time to see the gate sealed with a large man atop it with a sniper. Not only does that ruin Harry's and Micah's plan, but now Evelyn and them can't get to the gate without being shot down by the man's pure reflex. This whole ordeal is starting to give him a headache with how quickly it all went badly.

Is it too much to ask to find a little girl?

He hears guns clicking. "Go left!" he shouts to Micah, who immediately obeys and a bullet flies past his head. Harry darts right as one whips past him as well.

Harry listens intently, guiding the both of them out of the path of a storm of bullets. It gets increasingly difficult when more begin to fire after realizing none of them have made a mark. Harry tries to protect himself and Micah, but with more bullets, there's more noise. It's starting to blur together and he's not sure which bullets are flying at who anymore.

Micah gets struck in the calf, but he merely grunts and keeps running. "We have to fight back," he snaps to Harry.

He wishes he could disagree.

"Veer off and hit them from behind," Harry commands, and Micah does so without question.

He does the same, turning sharply to confuse the guards. Simultaneously, the experiments plow into the horde of soldiers from behind, taking a few down just from their impact. He blocks out his guilt as he snaps the man's neck who he landed on. He snatches a knife from the corpse's belt, throwing it into the chest of an oncoming attacker. He gets knocked over onto his side, but he's quick to regroup, catching the man's wrist and twisting it violently. The man howls in agony, and Harry is fast to put him out of it by twisting his head around his shoulders.

He hears a gun being loaded and his head snaps up as he instinctively bares his fangs. He can feel himself slipping out of control. One wrong move against him by these idiots and he may fall face first into the abyss.

If he knew there was a chance of negotiating with these violent-hungry creeps, then he would be able to keep himself in check. However, when he's provoked...

A gunshot rings out, the bullet hitting Harry in the shoulder only because he didn't bother to move. It won't slow him down. He doesn't the slightest sting, aside from the boiling anger in the pit of his stomach. A growl rumbles in his throat, but his attacker is unfazed. The foolish man cocks the gun again, letting another bullet fly. Harry lets it burrow right above his hip, too blinded by fury to realize he's being shot at to begin with.

He starts to prowl towards the brave bastard, flinging those who get in his way into trees or snapping their necks carelessly. He doesn't want to deal with these idiots anymore. He wants to get just this one. He wants to feel the man's bones crush beneath his palms, hear his screams and cries for mercy. He listens to the man's pounding heart--not out of fear but adrenaline. He wants to sink his teeth into the man's neck, listen as his heart slowly fades away into permanent stillness.

He thinks he's been shot again. He doesn't know where.

He growls louder this time, letting the man see his extra canines and vicious fangs. The man pales now, but only because he has one bullet left and the others haven't even caused Harry to stumble.

The man aims, but before he shoots there's a shout.

"Don't you fucking dare!"

A knife is thrown, burying deep into the man's stomach. He groans and falls to his knees. Harry grins. His perfect opportunity.

But then there's a hand on his arm, halting him.

And then he sees Evelyn. Almost like a switch is flipped, he gasps for breath and stammers backwards, nearly losing his balance. His head is throbbing. Oh God, it hurts.

"Harry," she says frantically, cupping his face with both her small, calloused hands.

"I'm fine," he murmurs, crumbling to one knee as he braces his hand on the ground for stability. "I'm all right."

He notices then that there are bodies littered all around them. Micah stands off to the side, panting, blood on his face and clothes. He's positive none of it is Micah's, however, he's not sure if he should be relieved or horrified. Especially when he realizes none of the blood on his own face and body is not his either.

He let it take over him.

It was getting harder and harder to fight the more battles he was forced into.

Shame swallows him whole. He feels like he's drowning in guilt and disgust--disgust with himself.

Evelyn scans his face for injuries, then goes to his chest where there's four bullet wounds oozing, though they're already struggling to heal. He'll have to get the bullets out for the process to be able to continue, though.

Like a switch in her, Evelyn's face scrunches with rage. "You son of a bitch," she snarls through her teeth, pushing to her face as she begins to stomp over to the last survivor, trying to stop himself from bleeding out. She snatches another knife from her belt and then--

And then she stops abruptly.

"Oh my God," she whispers, the knife slipping from her grasp and landing in the dirt. "Oh my God."

The man grunts, a cocky yet weak smirk on his face as he props himself up with an elbow. "Actually, most people just call me Max."

Evelyn is trembling, speechless.

Max says in a whisper, "It's nice to see you alive and well, little sister."