Chapter 96:
Victoria POV
In the end she wasn't going to get very far.

Her intentions were good, of course. Always had those on track. Before ditching town she'd made sure to find a map of Southern California. Now she had a general idea of what was in store for her. If she stayed on the highway going at her current twenty mph, she'd hit Stefano Rey within the hour. All the wreckage decorating the road slowed her down. She turned left or right more than moving forward. The need to be cautious was overwhelming. She didn't want to crash the bike.

Still, not bad timing. She could stop by the gas station and claim she was authorized by Sam to get some fuel.

On her way out of town people had yelled at her, claiming that she was getting in their way or the most common shout of "what the hell are you doing!". Everyone had realized the motorcycle's right of way overpowered anyone on their training wheels or own two feet, so they moved out of her way. There was speculation as to who was the rider masked behind the blacked out helmet, but soon it wouldn't be hard to find out who was missing. Not that anyone actually cared. She was nothing more than gossip served on steaming plates on an otherwise empty dinner table. Same old, same old.

This was the best situation for everyone, really. When something or someone came after her she wouldn't be putting anyone in danger. She could handle it on her own until the infection worsened. And if the day came that she couldn't handle it, well...she packed a lot of bullets. Hopefully there'd be enough willpower to use one. She considered ending it now while she could think clearly. Killing the parasite's host would almost certainly be the surest course of action of keeping everyone out of her trouble. It was the morally right thing to do, and she knew it.

But it all felt so unfair.

She survived all that turmoil only to put a bullet in her brain in some attempt to put herself atop some moral pedestal? She was morally racing down a concrete jungle filled with twisting intertwining car wrecks, it was all the righteousness she could handle. Call her selfish and self-centered. She didn't pull the trigger because she didn't want to.

Fear of death might be an explanation for her lack of desire to go through with it, except it wasn't. Victoria had gotten over her flirtations with the silence of an unbeating heart. Colors mixing like a watercolor painting tossed in a dirty river. Death's door was her second home, it bargained and won for custody in parents' once pending divorce.

Oh well, they were dead.

Not like she knew. Or cared.

Although all this bulls.hit was totally their fault.

She'd stepped right into the blame game. She avoided it the past few months. More important issues to tackle. Littles to care for. Stores to guard. Food supply. Weapon inventory. Then a whole slew of personal problems to sort out. Her ability to not care needed distractions. She needed things to fix. People to be dependent on her. Those were gone now. She was alone.

She passed the power plant. The atoms were bounced around supplying power to town. The speedometer ticked closer to zero. She was getting dizzy. The evil stepmother of all headaches racked her brain.

Victoria parked the bike to the side of the road. A chill seeped through her leather jacket, traveled like a foggy mist of poison and sunk into her pores. She chucked the helmet off and vomited on the side of the road. The dead grass was disappointed with the liquid substance, as it craved rain. Turned out she wasn't solely in the business of disappointing people. It would have felt like a new low if she had the ability to focus.

Hands were reaching inside her stomach and twisting her organs around. Chimes clattered in her ears, but they were tossed into a hurricane. They collaborated into a unifying violent screech. The winds tore at her mind, blowing the hinges to dust.

On the other side sensations a million times worse fought to compete. They were pushing her off a cliff full of rock formations reaching up to the sky, shaped like jagged fingers escaping the depths of hell, and her blood would drip down to the ground when she died after being impaled in the heart with one of those fingers.

There she lay in no man's land. Neither player sure what to do with her.

The universe went black, billions of stars shut down one by one. All of nature's dearly held possessions faded from existence. The roads and trees and birds vanished without notice. It was all wiped out without a second thought. And she saw it all as a single pawn on a chessboard knocked to the ground. The wooden figure rolled off the board and fell for eternity.

Victoria had blinked. She opened her eyes and everything was back to where it should be. There was no chessboard. Everything was amplified. Enhanced. In the process of being rewired.

Reprogrammed.

She staggered to the helmet, but when she found it those hands pulled on her stomach again and she threw up inside the safety gear. Disgusted, she tossed it away. Trails of sparks followed and when the helmet hit the ground a wildfire erupted.

What house of horrors had she fallen into?

What was even real anymore?

She screamed, an actual sound from her lungs that were busy circulating air throughout her body. The scream was real. It sounded off, though. Her ears registered it as a low growl. Maybe it was the chimes swaying in the hurricane. The growl closed in. It was real, and unlike her, it was not alone.

Both players stopped toying with her mind. Their games slithered away.

With normal vision returned, Victoria saw how screwed she was. On a scale of one to ten, an eleven and his pack of tens were about to eat her alive. Trembling hands fumbled for the pistol in the hostler. She didn't have time to aim. A bullet entered the dirty yellowish–grey army.

A coyote head exploded.

Weak feet struggled to stand up. "Back the f.uck off," she spat.

Cursing did not scare coyotes, but it made her feel better. She found the ability to talk, to infuse anger and rage in her words. It meant something to her, no matter how insignificant she looked. She had her words and she had her bullets. It would work.

One of the wild animals made a move towards the bike. She hesitated, thinking of how bad it would be if she hit some piece of vital equipment. Then the mangy beast lunged at the back tire. A shot of adrenaline rushed through her and she pulled the trigger. Blood flowed from the coyote's back. Jaws empty.

"Your pack is losing IQ points and brain matter by the second, Pack Leader." She taunted.

Their idiotic leader grumbled one word, "Hungry."

"Find a damn deer for all I care. Bambi doesn't pack heat, I do!" She doubted Pack Leader was knowledgable on Disney films. His mutated face failed at expressing confusion. Victoria did not have an ounce of patience. She was barely dealing with the cruel fact she'd have to stay away from the few friends she had. Last thing she needed was more BS to wallow in. "It means scram!"

Victoria was curious as to why the pack had not attacked yet. They outnumbered her. More coyotes were probably on their way, howls sending out messages to move in for the kill.

RJ used to tell her to stop looking gift horses in the mouth. She understood the old saying now.

The bike was parked over thirty feet away. Even if she could outrun the pack, they stood between her and her getaway vehicle.

An idea sprouted in her head.

These weren't regular coyotes. They were designed by the Darkness. Used as a bridge between freakish alien communication and human communication. They talked in both their mangled coyote yips and yaps and the vernacular. To better exchange messages the Darkness had made these beasts part human.

Were the susceptible to human emotion, even a little? When she'd shot and consequentially killed the first two victims, was it possible that they felt anything? Victoria wasn't hoping for the killing machines to sympathize her. She was thinking about scaring the crap out of them so they would fear humans and tell their little coyote offspring about the legend of Little Red I–Rode–My–Bike–Into–Your–Sorry–Asses Hood.

She needed them distracted.

So she planned to kill Pack Leader. Without him to guide them, the coyotes would lose focus long enough for her to sprint to the motorcycle. Tori pointed the gun at the headmaster's skull.

She faced a slight problem.

It jammed.

Her eyes widened, too much white showed. Her trigger finger repeated the motion over and over. She turned rigid. Her paced breathing struggle and transformed into an erratically pained sound. The coyotes knew she was panicking.

"Darkness hungry," Pack Leader snarled. "Pack hungry."

She gave up, throwing the pistol at the beast's head. She ran back to the fence guarding the power plant, there had to be someone in there!

She clutched the barbed wire and winced. She didn't climb over, she shifted all her weight to her arms and flipped. For an instant she was doing a handstand on the fence, she was a kid at the bottom of a public pool. Not running for her life, just trying to impress any onlookers.

Then she landed on the opposite side, hitting the ground with a thud. She crawled away from the fence. The coyotes tried to tear it apart, they used their teeth to bite at the metal and wire. Rattling sounds echoed.

An array of fresh gashes bled out on her palms. She felt like a bleeding glow stick. Pale green lights seeped down her skin. Blood gathered as it dripped to the ground. Too much blood. Bits of barbed wire clung to her hands. She was crying.

"Hey!" She called out towards the facility. "Hey! Anyone!"

Nothing. Nobody.

She knew kids were in there. Sam organized a rotating schedule for people to guard the place months ago. They heard the gunshots. They armed themselves, but they did not want to leave the safety of concrete walls.

"Help me!" she screamed. Pack Leader was determined.

She did not want to become minced meat.

Four shadows chased each other inside the building and scrambled outside. When they saw her, when they recognized her, they froze. Then they ran back inside, slamming the door behind them.

Surprised wasn't on her list of reactions. She wasn't angry, either. Their retreat filled her with a rising sense of determination. A sort of If you want me, come and get me persona. She'd gotten this far by herself. It was only going to get harder.

The knife in her pocket was a confidence boost, too. Victoria switched the blade open. Her lit palm closed around the handle.

A few members of the pack staggered back when she turned around. Not all dogs were colorblind after all.

Dumb and Dumber, as she named the two lower ranking coyotes chewing away at the fence, did not back away. Victoria lunged at them and dug the six-inch blade into Dumber's snout. She writhed her only weapon free at the cost of a bite from Dumb. Her forearm bled red and green, she was a Christmas Day party.

It was OK, Dumb was next. The knife destroyed his eyeball. She twisted the metal inside the socket. Victoria grinned, "Take that, Wile." She opened the gate and walked towards her bike, "One of ya' take a step and you'll end up like him."

She was out of breath. Tremors shook her body. Blood dripped down her hands, both human and animal, and stained the double yellow line in the middle of the road. She wasn't in any pain, the rush of survival masked it.

The threat latched itself in tiny coyote brains. The gore consumed them as she turned the ignition.

She ran over one of their dead on her way out.

Victoria knew if she continued past the power plant, she would begin to have another nausea episode. Distortion would give Pack Leader an advantage. She couldn't allow that. So that left only one direction to travel in.

Even with the distance between the pack, she could tell they would come back for her. She heard them and their weird animal language. They were not done with her. So when she saw a break in the guardrail, she guided the bike on the dirt path. She was blindly traveling at this point. The goal was to leave a confusing trail for Pack Leader.

The motorcycle's gas tank coughed up the last of its fuel.

She came across the van when she spotted a clearing. No one was inside the driver or passenger seats. A peak in the dirty back window revealed bags of cement mix, guns, and rope. A baseball bat lay across the gear. Backpacks stuffed to the point of overflowing were piled up in a corner. so she ditched it and checked out the van. It was unlocked, but the keys were missing. Hot-wiring might be an option, but it was risky. She could get caught, she was out in the open. She didn't even have the right tools. What if there was no gas?

Now the cost of her escape would be paid.

Just like that, the rabbit was caught in Coates territory. She still couldn't breathe, but it wasn't the rush of survival sucking the air out. There was no possible way the contents of the van equaled anything good.

"Hey! Hey you, stop!" A guard, he had a friend too. They wore the same Coates uniform.

The friend wasn't as bold. In fact, he did a strange thing. He crossed himself.

When she spoke, they both jumped out of their skin.

"You gonna stand there or shoot me?"

Of course, she looked different. The hair belonged to someone else. They had never seen her in anything but the red and gold blazer and black skirt. Here, with the beat–up jacket and bloody palms, she looked like a different person. It took a minute for recognition to sink in, and then they didn't know what to do.

"You're...you died. You're dead." One of the guards insisted. "Everyone knows you're dead."

"I'm dead, am I?" She asked, sounding too amused. "Who told you such a thing?" She was stalling. They were armed, and her rifle was back with the bike. Why didn't she bring it with her? All she had was her blade. She was worn out from the fight with Pack Leader. She lost her pistol, her weapon of choice, in a moment of panic.

If she got too close they might kill her.

Or worse. Take her back to the school.

Where he would not let her die.

Victoria reached in her back pocket for her knife. She switched the blade open and dropped it to the ground. "I won't hurt you, just put your guns down."

"You're dead," one of the boys repeated.

"What do you think I am, a ghost?" She snapped.

They didn't deny the accusation.

She looked them over. They were skinny kids. Skinnier than her, and that was saying something. Hollow cheeks, dark circles under their dead eyes. They hadn't eaten in days. She couldn't help but feel bad for them. None of this was really their fault. But she was not Robin Hood. She was not going to help them for free. "Alright, I've got a proposition."

"Huh?"

"It means you gimme what I want and I give you some food before you cave in on yourselves."

They handed over their guns.

They gave their names, Ronny and Kyle.

Victoria picked up her knife before walking back to her backpacks. The tossed a can opener in Ronny's direction. "Relax," she dug up a can of beans, "I'm not going to possess you."

Ronny, a scrawny sixth grader, could not be convinced she was alive. She was a ghost, he said, because everyone had listened to the gunshots and some kids ventured out to the spot in the woods where the dried up blood could still be seen. Drake had said she was dead, and why would Drake lie?

Victoria laughed, "Well someone is a little too innocent, aren't we?"

Did he really think she was dead? She glanced in the direction of the school. She could go in there right now and end it. Right now. He wouldn't see it coming.

Kyle, however, did come around to realizing she wasn't some spirit escaping the freakin' Underworld. "You were in my Latin class," he said.

"I took Latin?"

"You never showed up."

Yup. Seemed like her. "So, what's the van with the gear for?" She demanded.

"I'm not sure. We were just told to walk around and make sure no one stole it 'till five." Kyle checked his wristwatch. It was nearly quarter to closing time.

"Who told you to guard it?" She asked.

"Panda. He said if we didn't Diana would get us in trouble. He was all worried and freaked out, though."

Panda was working for someone, there was no doubt about that. But Diana? What would Diana want him to do?

"What happens at the magic hour?"

"We don't know. We're supposed to go inside."

"I'm letting you off early. Go." She gave him another can of food, this time soup. The pair left, Ronny still trying to convince his friend they just had an encounter with the supernatural.

Victoria armed herself, then she crawled between two overgrown bushes and began her wait.
***

This is lovely <3

I like the Road Runner reference...

Chapter 97:
Michael POV
Apparently he wasn't the only one who thought he sounded like a runaway mental patient. It all made sense in his head, but when he tried to explain anything it all came out in ramblings that would concern most people. But this was the FAYZ, dammit, and what he said made perfect sense.

By the time Michael finally found Sam, he was too busy to actually pay attention because there was a food shortage, kids weren't working, and there was some Astrid problem he felt the need to vent about. There were also rumors coyotes were spotted on the edge of town. Sam was on his way to check it out.

When he got a word in, Sam stopped in his tracks and gave him a look that spelled pity.

"Alright, I've had about enough of this. You wanna know what I think? It's finally gotten to you, Mike. You need to clear your head for a while. It's obvious you've been through some tough, um...things, since the FAYZ started. Stress is messing with your head, man. Take a break if you have to, but don't spread this through town."

Michael couldn't believe what he was hearing. He also knew it was complete BS. "Don't gimme that, Sam. Say it. You don't believe me."

It seemed if stress was getting to one of the boys heads, it wasn't Michael's. Sam looked like he hadn't slept in days. He was a leader with the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Which was why what he was saying was extremely important, because in a few days there might not be a world to carry.

"Let me get this straight, then see it from my view point. You want me to think that your inconsistent on again, off again girlfriend is some kind of avatar inside an autistic kid's mind. You think that Little Pete's Land of Make Believe is controlling our lives and if Victoria switches sides, some kind of meltdown is going to happen."

"When you put it that way it sounds insane." Michael admitted. He was never one to deny the obvious. If it walked like madness and talked like madness, was it not mad?

"All the while in in less than two weeks we won't have enough food for the Littles, let alone everyone else? And I have Edilio telling me you lost your mind with a gun this morning?"

"Oh come on, Bug was a spy!" Amy piped in from the doorway.

"Then tell me! Don't light up an open field full of kids."

"It wasn't like we hit anybody," Amy mumbled. She sounded regretful, disappointed they hadn't injured the creep.

A car rolled outside Sam's house. Edilio and two of his soldiers came knocking at the front door. "I have to go. When you have a problem I can fix, please, by all means tell me." Sam said. He led them out and parted ways.

Michael and Amy left. Unsuccessful. Edilio's car rolled away to check out the coyote problem.

"So, looks like we're on our own." He said.

"Eh, nothing new."

It was back to the drawing board for them. Wandering down sidewalks at random, they silently tried to come up with plans.

"Hey, I gotta stock up on food from Ralph's. Can you just make sure nobody breaks in at my place?" Amy asked. He guessed they were on her street.

He didn't see any issue with that. He figured there was a slight possibility he find the magic answer if he sat down and sorted out reality. Sam wasn't completely inaccurate when he said all the anxiety was driving him crazy. How he hadn't dived off the deep end yet was nothing less than a miracle.

"You need anything?" She handed him a scribbled shopping list when they reached her doorstep. She had a small house. She lived alone. A chain-link fence guarded the property. Amy had tried to set up traps for intruders. There was a bowling ball hanging off the side of the roof. "Don't ask," was her only explanation.

Michael noticed fishing line running down and ending in a trip wire, he stepped over it. He glanced over Amy's list, made a few additions, and gave it back. After all, if they were entering a time period of starvation for the long haul, it was best to stock up now. He'd had his fair share of hunger. Been there, done that. Thanks, but no.

For the first time, the actual first time, Michael wondered about the kids remaining at Coates. If the food situation was bad here, it could only be worse up the hill.

He hoped they starved to death.
***
Victoria POV
Fifteen minutes turned into twenty, and soon that turned to an entire hour. She had enough time to open up the small medical kit and sew the coyote bite up. Messy stitches were better than no stitches. The pain was a slight prick in her skin, barely noticeable. She never moved out of her hiding place. Never breathed too loudly. Finally, when her muscles began to cramp and she was almost about to leave, a commotion complete with yelled orders and rushing kids reached her.

Victoria was certain this was not what Kyle and Ronny were talking about. She counted six worn and tattered uniforms. The red and gold army spotted the abandoned truck she was staking out, and worse, they found her motorcycle.

"What the hell is that doing here?"

Fear did not run rampant inside her, it strolled slowly, taking its time as it pushed her mental buttons. Fear wired a disastrous circuit of crisscrossing emotions. What does this memory do? And there was no way to be sure if what was playing behind those pained brown eyes was the present or past. No way to separate real from fiction. Each button was methodically hit, and Victoria froze.

She didn't know what to do.

She just did not know. She had a gun in her hands, a loaded weapon. He was there, right f.ucking there, and she froze on spot.

Crack! "Well, is someone going to answer me?"

Droplets of blood landed on the overgrown neglected foliage in front of her face. Glancing at her own bloodied arm, she felt dread sink in. The glow was faint, and there was a chance the greenness around her would keep her secret, but the sun was setting and if Drake did not leave soon, he'd find her. Shadows that were once her best friend threatened to betray her. But if she moved into the light, well...this game of hide n' seek would end rather quickly.

Drake fired a round at the motorcycle's tires. Another. And then another. While the gun pointed at her bike, he seemed to be looking around it with a sick grin on his face. He knew she was here. He knew she was hiding. Back before the FAYZ, stories of her frequent highway thrill rides on her father's old bike had made their way around the gossip cycle. If Drake was a betting man, Victoria knew he'd place all his chips on the owner being her.

So now he was trying to find her. Get her to come out of whatever hole she dug herself and have a nice, long, drawn out talk with her.

The two disturbed teenagers had very different definitions of a nice, long, drawn out 'talk'.

Victoria covered her head as he fired rounds in her part of the forest. What would happen if she got shot? She knew there would be blood, but would she become a green firework too?

She waited for the moment he would look behind the bushes. That moment, if it was about to happen, never came. Drake glanced at his watch and ordered his posse to head back. She heard a car engine start. They drove off.

She couldn't believe it. She crawled out from the bushes and stood, not sure if his departure was the luckiest thing to ever happen or the exact opposite. Drake must know he hadn't killed her, so why did he leave?

More importantly, why did she even care?

Because, part of her said, you should be dead. He should have killed you. For him not to kill you is worse. If he didn't kill you, then he has a plan involving you.

A few minutes later she spotted Panda and a few kids making their way towards the parked van. She darted behind a tree and watched as they loaded more supplies in the back. Victoria inched a loose rock closer with her foot. She picked it up and tossed it as far as she could. Not too far off, rustling leaves sounded.

"What was that?" Panda asked. The kids went to investigate, opening a brief window of opportunity.

Victoria tossed her bags in the van and buried herself underneath them. Soon after the doors slammed shut. Blackness replaced sunlight. Panda started the car.

Whatever was going on, Victoria was about to find out.
***
Drake POV
He actually had no idea about Diana's plan to fix Caine.

Drake figured today was the perfect day to strike Sammy and his townies. The Coates food supply was about to hit rock bottom, and after hearing from Bug that Ralph's was stocked with enough food for a good couple of weeks, he thought: why not?

After getting a few guys together, he managed to find keys to one of the trucks in the parking lot. They were heading on their way when he spotted her stupid piece of crap bike. He previously thought she was dead. He wished she was. She was an annoying fly that no matter how many times it got swatted, or had its wings torn off, or whatever godforsaken idea hatched itself inside the sadist's head, still wouldn't quit buzzing along.

She just didn't break, no matter how hard he pushed she just did not crumble.

That pissed Drake off. So he had kept pushing and pulling, waiting for her to go insane. Make the mind–reader lose her mind. Leave her screaming until her throat went raw.

Knowing she was hiding, hiding from him, was enough for now. He hoped she went running back to those townies. Even better, went to guard Ralph's. He could cut her foul little mouth off with one of the butcher knives.

Drake cracked his whip from sheer excitement.

The truck crawled down the road towards Perdido Beach.
***
Caine POV
He saw all the pieces come together like colliding atoms in a reactor. The analogy was placed in his head from It. From him.

Of course, if Caine had any way to articulate to someone what these smashing atoms were about to do, he would have. Because as the nightmarish visions pounded him during all hours of the day, and all throughout the night, he no longer knew it was just in his head.

Karma? No. Although it sure as hell could be seen that way.

Caine saw one of the pieces now, with her long dark hair and sad frown. She was looking down at a toppled leader, a beaten Napoleon. This cabin was his Saint Helena.

And another piece just a blink away. She looked familiar, Caine swore he knew her as she hid inside a moving crater of darkness. She was too close, way too close. Caine shouted for her to go away, and Diana, beautiful, cunning Diana, thought he was talking to her.

"Please work." He heard Diana say as she gently shut the cabin door.

The toppled King raved for the too–close girl to run.
***

Poor Caine <3

This was an... intense chapter! I liked it :)

Sam made a classic leader mistake.

Also, sorry I've been slow to read, I got home two days ago and I've been super tired.

Chapter 98:
Victoria POV
Enough time passed for her to grow excruciatingly bored. There was no light in the closed confinements of the loaded delivery truck, so she occasionally picked at a scab so she could see. Her pistol sat on her lap, and her knife was wrapped in her fingers as she methodically cut open the bags of cement and poured the mixture in the corner. She ate what little food they had packed, it was expired and stale. The frail shoulder straps of their backpacks were sawed off.

Victoria planned on making their mission as difficult as possible, despite the fact she had no idea what their mission was. She tried to invade their minds, but they were thinking of family or food. Their jumbled thoughts did not help her whatsoever.

Tori, whether she realized it or not, enjoyed making things difficult.

She was, quite simply, being a b.itch just because she could. There was resentment towards these kids, and no matter how much she squashed it down, denied its existence, and shoved it far from her conscious, it was there. They had sat back and ignored the suffering under the red and gold private school, they were accomplishes to countless murders.

God, did Panda have to drive so slowly? Snails must be mocking them on the highway. She sipped a bottle of Coates water and then poured some of it on the cement mix. Better to ruin it now, it wasn't like Drake had organized a committee to fix Perdido Beach's many construction hazards.

Dammit, why didn't she shoot him? When she finally wanted someone dead, she couldn't make it happen. It was completely unfair and completely her fault. When there were no more bags of cement to tear open or guns to dismantle, she removed a bullet from her own gun and carved his name on it. Her hand slipped on the "E" and the blade cut her thumb.

The truck stopped its crawl.

No freakin' way we're in town, Victoria thought. She shoved the engraved bullet in her pocket and readied the gun towards the doors. Panicky thoughts entered Panda's mind and echoed inside Tori's head. Alright alright alright I'll open the doors, Okay? I'll open 'em up, alright?

S.hit. She was going to be caught. She jumped up and walked to the back of the truck. Her trigger finger began to suffer a case of anxiety. Get on with it, already.

At the last second before Panda opened the doors, she heard the incoherent grumbles of Pack Leader. Sunlight flooded the delivery van and Victoria squeezed the trigger. No time to aim, no time to think. Just shoot to kill then run.

'Shock' did not even begin to describe the Coates lackeys' unified reaction. She was dead, and dead girls tended not to pop out of trucks and shoot blindly.

Tori jumped out of the truck and slammed her sneakers on the pavement, firing round after round at the mangy mutts. They were hesitant. She wasn't sure how long coyotes could retain memories, but the sight of their one-eyed friend was seared in there.

They retreated.

She'd fired three shots. The same amount of shots needed to signal a need for assistance. Edilio had taught his soldiers, all his soldiers, that precious number.

Panda and the others rushed back inside their truck and sped off. Victoria thought the gust of wind she felt was from them. The wind was swift and her limited amount of hair went wild. It settled down and changed to the form of a red haired girl in pigtails carrying a shotgun.

"Whoa," Breeze said, "you don't look too good."

She'd heard that a little too much lately, though she supposed war wasn't for the beauty-centered types. "Where's Sam?"

"We're checking out the coyote problem, looks like it's solving itself." Brianna fired a few rounds towards the scattered dogs. One of them dropped dead, and she zoomed over to look at it. "Hey, I shot its eye out!"

"Nah, it was like that before you got here." Victoria was short of breath, but she managed to wave her knife as proof. During the past few months she'd been made into an adrenaline junkie. This was a little too close to an overdose for her. Sweat plastered strands of her hair against her face and her heart wouldn't shut up.

"What are you doing here?" Brianna was actually vibrating. The girl could not stand still for her life.

"Oh, just a little sightseeing and sadist-hunting. Latter hasn't worked out yet." Tori was out of breath, she was never out of sarcasm and cynicism. That stuff reproduced itself at a disturbing rate.

"Huh," Brianna said, like she was measuring her merit. Like she wasn't sure if Tori was pretty damn brave or pretty damn stupid. At an unbiased viewpoint, she was probably a little of both.

It was good to keep things mixed up every once in a while, right? "I think they're gonna...he's...he's heading to town." Tori managed between panting. "Where's Sam?"

"Stay still." Brianna warned.

"Wha–" She did not get to finish that word. The road and trees all blended into one monstrosity of a blur, color melted from the face of the earth and spiraled down a super fast whirlpool. It all happened so fast, there was no time to process what was happening.

Brianna's 'jog' was over in less than twenty seconds. Understanding how she arrived from Point A to Point B took a minute. Brianna wasn't kidding when she claimed to be faster than a speeding bullet, although there was doubt the claim had been tested. Victoria wasn't about to argue it.

Sam, Edilio, Dekka, and Orc turned around as Brianna announced her return.

"Jack was too busy with his stupid cell phone thingy," Breeze pouted, explaining his absence.

On one hand, it was great to see people who would understand the urgency of the situation. On the other, it sucked. They wouldn't reach Perdido Beach by the time she finished her story.

"Where have you been?" Sam asked, and then he noticed her stitched up arm and asked who sewed her up.

"Me. I can take care of myself, Sam." She said, matching his agitated tone. "That's not import–"

"Yes, Tori. It is important. You just can't go running off without telling anyone."

"What are you, my neglecting, abusive, two-faced mother?" She spat. "No, never mind. Don't answer that question. We need to get back to town, I was spying on Coates and they're planning an attack."

"You were at Coates?" Dekka asked, beating everyone to it. "Why?"

"Get in the car and I can explain later!" Tori shouted.

"Answer the question, Tori." Sam demanded. He was accusing her of a crime without saying anything directly. His arms were folded. He didn't trust her, or maybe he didn't trust that believing her was the right move. Her reputation as a liar was coming back to haunt her.

"We can play twenty questions in the car!" She opened the driver's side door.

He remained unmoved.

"Sam, if there's trouble in town I can breeze by and..." the hyper girl offered.

"No, Brianna. There are rumors going around, I want to know if they're true."

"You're going to believe Taylor's gossip gang over this?" She motioned to her battered arm. Black string held the flesh together. "I'm supposed to be the crazy one, not you."

Insult the person your trying to win over, dumbass. No one has ever thought of that revolutionary idea.

"Boss, the coyotes were heading towards the power plant. We don't have to deal with 'em now." Brianna said.

Victoria sighed, they were wasting precious time. Perdido Beach could be wiped out already. "Lock me up for all I care, Sammy. Have a trial, hang me in the Plaza if you think I'm a traitor. Just...please. Get in the car."

"Please," she begged.

The scary part for Sam was she meant it. Sentence her to death if it would convince him to put the pedal to the metal, or however that saying went.

"Breeze," Sam said.

"On it." Brianna blurred from view.

There was no way for Orc to fit in the seats, but the car was a Ford Pick-up. He sat back there. Edilio insisted on driving. Dekka took the passenger seat. They sped down the highway.

"You're not...you're not concerned about saving all of Perdido Beach, are you?" Sam asked.

"I have no idea what you mean." Victoria responded.

"He'll kill him. If what you're saying is true, and Drake sees him..."

"Shut up, Sam. For our own good, please shut up. Because nothing pleasant happens when I lose my mind."

"It's why you left, isn't it? You thought you'd hurt him." Sam pushed. Edilio and Dekka took glances at the rearview mirror, both of them trying to figure out what they were talking about. There was too much subtext in the conversation.

She'd promised to play twenty questions, no choice but to answer each and every one.

She sure did take a long time.

"You don't leave paradise unless you know you're gonna ruin it for everyone else." Victoria decided Sam could figure that one out himself.

By the time they reached Perdido Beach, it was already too late to undo the damage.
***

Aw Tori <3

Sam is an idiot. 'nuff said.

Chapter 99:
Victoria POV
It was the epitome of 'I told you so'.

Cracked glass adorned with red splatters were the remains of Ralph's Grocery store windows. Edilio cautiously applied the break of the truck and the four of them hopped out. Orc had a slow going process of lumbering down from the pick–up end. The Town Plaza was eerily deserted, makeshift weapons rolled down the street after recently being thrown wildly, their owners scurrying off in a million different directions to escape whatever imposing threat a glass studded baseball bat could not combat.

Victoria's grip on her knife turned stark white, like she suspected the weapons were about to come to life and hit her. She bounced on the heels of her torn up sneakers. Something just felt...off.

"Where is everybody?" Edilio asked, kicking a path free of debris to the automatic doors. "There are supposed to be guards here."

"Where's Brianna?" Dekka finished removing the glass by canceling gravity around the front doors. The four of them went inside the grocery store to see Brianna trying to pry open a back freezer door.

"They're all in here! They won't stop blocking the door, idiots." Breeze said. "Orc, open this door!"

Orc listend to Brianna and let the shellshocked and unarmed kids out. Their weapons were missing, and no one was going to venture off to Coates to get them back. One of the shivering kids had a nasty slash across entire abdomen. Sometime between when Victoria left town and when Amy came to Ralph's, she had dyed strands of her hair green. Amy's lips were tinted blue, although it was not from any type of cosmetic. "Ssson ofa bb!tch locked us innn the freeezer."

Victoria unzipped her leather jacket and tossed it over. Amy quickly pulled it on and buried her arms inside. She felt an inside pocket and removed a round shaped object, "You brought a freakin' compass with you? Damn, I don't know if you're Typhoid Lewis Clark now."

Amy wasn't making any sense. Her words were constantly interrupted by the chattering of her teeth. Beneath the frosty coating in her eyes, she was clearly pissed. Tori decided she already knew enough and did not need to eavesdrop on Amy's recap for Edilio and Dekka. Orc was sourly disappointed when he encountered a six-pack of beer torn apart by a bullet.

Victoria walked down the empty aisles with Sam. While unnecessary with the look on her face conveying all her emotions, she managed to get her thoughts across.

"There's still some stuff left. They didn't take everything." Sam said in some failed attempt to find the bright side. "We can pick crops from the fields."

"I hope they get sick eating expired food. Food poisoning sucks." Victoria put a cardboard display back into place.

"Listen..." Sam began.

"Yeah, yeah. I know. Don't tell anyone I was totally right. I'm still under suspicion and under arrest because your girlfriend doesn't like me blah blah blah I'm a terrible person for leaving my responsibilities and am going to live out the rest of my days alone. Please, Sammy, I've heard it all."

Sam picked up a bullet casing from a shelf, "I was going to say 'I'm sorry'."

"Oh," she said, and thankfully they left it at that. Victoria was never good with apologies, on both the giving an receiving ends. On account of the times someone apologized to her, about as close to never as you got, it was one of the few instances she didn't have a cunning insult planned to throw back. Aren't you supposed to accept it or something? Or can I just leave now?

"You should probably get your arm fixed. Wouldn't want any cuts." Sam said matter-of-factly. It was very odd for him, and it led her to believe he knew more than he was letting on.

"Probably should." Victoria was glad for an excuse to leave. Lana was already on her way, as Brianna had zoomed by the hospital to get her. The Healer hastily tore out the stitches and placed her hands on the wound. She was half asleep, with Patrick bounding beside her, but she still noticed something.

"I'm getting sick of seeing you," The Healer frowned before placing her palm on Tori's forehead. Not only was her arm no longer a ghastly mess, her once twisted ankle was repaired and alertness flooded her senses. Lana prodded her arm again, searching for something.

"Feeling is mutual, no offense." the corners of Victoria's lips twitched into a near smile.

Lana scowled and walked towards Ralph's, her golden retriever happily running beside her.

Victoria seriously needed to plan what her next move was about to be. Her bike was shot, literally. She could always find a new one, but she doubted Sam would be keen on her theft of what was technically considered town property. She had already siphoned gasoline, he had to know that. Why had he let her off the hook just like that? Granted, if anyone deserved a break it was Victoria, but her mind was trained to question the easy way out every time. Even when she was not in any danger. Old habits die hard, she supposed.

Should she go and demand Sam tell her what angle he was playing?

A slap on the shoulder brought her out of her thoughts, "Heyyy, wwwait up!" Amy grinned, her lips were slowly returning to their natural color. A thin line of blood stained through her jacket––Victoria's jacket––and she doubted it was going to come out with soap and water. "You're back!"

Tori wasn't entirely sure if she wanted to stay in town. She'd left without thinking things through, and she missed him...

But he had been harboring anger towards her. It had boiled over when she'd pushed him away. He had compared her to them. How could he do that? He obviously did not care.

(What she did not consider was the reason for him being angry, which probably had something to do with the fact she couldn't communicate worth a damn and was likely the most confusing person on the planet. Usually it was people who cared too much who held in their frustration until it boiled over into that phase of anger that makes them say stupid things they do not mean.)

Why would she consider that? She didn't even know how it was possible to care about someone like her. She was doing a poor job at it herself.

Amy, who felt like playing a green and brown haired teenage girl version of Cupid, offered to let Tori crash at her place. Tori reluctantly accepted, and Amy was glad because her house got lonely without her brothers around anymore. She missed them, maybe having friends around would fill that loneliness. She was even willing to put up with the whole thin-walls issue. She just wanted people around, and she did not like what her old friends had let the FAYZ mold them into.

When the friends arrived at Amy's house, they discovered the place was trashed.

"I told him to watch my place." Amy seethed. Stupid idiot must have left to go look for his girlfriend, who had ironically come back to town.

"Huh?" Tori asked. She quickly mounted the steps and observed the scene. "Hey, someone broke your door down and tried to put it back in place."

"How the hell do you know?" Amy unlocked the door only to watch it fall down. There was a rectangular gap where it once stood.

"Missing hinges. Dumbass only screwed one set back in, barely at that. Maybe it was Zil and his hate group?" Victoria crossed the threshold. The house was the remnants of a war-zone. She feared they had been searching for her and retaliated against Amy instead.

A red stain was on the beige kitchen wall, and another on the tile floor that smudged all the way to the back door.

"Michael!" Amy shouted. Then she said his name again, only it sounded more like a question the next time.

"Why would Michael be here?" Victoria observed more damage. There were more of those red stains on walls in different rooms. She touched one of them to discover it was blood, still wet and sticky.

"We were going to look for you when I got back from Ralph's. I didn't want anyone stealing my stuff so he was just gonna sit here and wait." Amy pointed to the living room, although the couch was tossed on its side.

Twisting knots entangled her stomach, Victoria felt sick inside. Drake had stolen Perdido Beach's food supply, had he made any other stops before leaving? Was this a devious ruse to get her to return to Coates? Or had he simply killed Michael and buried the body?

Victoria threw up on the stained carpet. This was the same feeling she suffered back at the PBNP. Delusional hallucinating as she was torn apart by two sides. Only these hallucinations were of holes dug in the ground.

"Gee, thanks." Amy groaned. "Relax, he's probably trying to find you. Left as soon as I rounded the corner then some twerp did all this. He'll be back by nightfall."

Victoria didn't believe that one bit, but she agreed to wait for a while and help Amy clean up. When they were done repairing the damage, she said she knew where he would go when he returned to town. She left with the promise of coming back.

She checked their home, where no one was to be found.

She checked the library, McClub, and even resorted to knocking on doors of ex-Coates students who knew him. It had to be quite the shock seeing Victoria Evans knocking on your door like a Girl Scout selling cookies you did not want to buy. After all, those Thin Mints had thrown a good amount of punches back at school. Half the kids she talked to slammed the door in her face. Just for old time's sake, one of them was Other Michael's sister. Tori was going to have an ugly black eye in the morning.

Deep in her heart, she knew. She knew where he could be found.

But she would keep hope alive until sunrise, sitting like a lovesick girl on the rocky stretch of terrain he had taken her to, claiming they were going on vacation to 'Brazil'. Throughout night constantly flickering her flashlight at the shadows, she would wait. Tori must have practiced her apology a hundred times, editing and revising aloud because she really sucked at admitting she was wrong. The ocean provided rustling and churning feedback.

Denial died at sunrise. He was not looking for her.

She needed to look for him.
***
Michael POV
The reason Amy's house looked like a war-zone was because he put up a damned good fight. It wasn't enough, though. That third baseball swing to the head clocked him out of battling mode and clocked him into unconsciousness.

Amy was correct when she said he had probably left to go look for Victoria. He got as far as standing up when he heard the front door open. Was Amy back that quick? Had she forgotten something? Michael heard hushed whispers and figured Zil's thugs were messing with him. He removed his loaded pistol from his side. With extreme caution he pulled back the curtain to the living room window.

First swing. It knocked his head into the window and his face broke the glass. Michael cursed, pulled the trigger blindly, and broke a vase resting on a table. More shattering pained his ears. What was happening?

He ducked another hit and darted to the kitchen. He fired more shots along the way, clearly seeing three attackers armed with bats and knives and guns. He briefly wondered what he did to piss them off. Michael aimed this time, pulled the trigger, and blood squirted from one of their arms.

He heard a heart-stopping click the next time he pulled the trigger. Jammed.

Michael ran to the kitchen drawer and pulled out the longest sharpest knife he saw. He turned around, saw that the bat was closing in on him again, and slashed the guy in the face.

His buddy threw him into the wall and Michael felt blood roll down the back of his head. He crumpled to the floor with a killer headache and the feeling someone just punched him in the stomach. His hands uncoordinatedly fixed the gun, he remembered how to do it when Victoria taught him about shooting. But moments later someone's foot kicked his weapon away.

The wooden bat hit his head a second time. Lights went out temporarily.

He woke up just about when they were going to lock him in the van. He kicked, flailed, and howled like madness itself possessed him.

They dropped him, shocked that he was awake. Pavement greeted at the bruises with a painful welcome mat.

He lunged for the guy who held his pistol. He was maybe a year older than Michael, had maybe ten pounds on him too. But the difference between them was that even before the FAYZ, Michael had taken and given a few hits. He'd been in a real fight before.

Michael wrestled the gun away and aimed for the center mass, where the heart took up vacancy and pumped life-giving blood throughout the body. He was fully aware of what he was doing. These people were not sent to kill him, they had orders not to kill him. They were going to take him.

Michael was fully aware of his actions when the bullet replaced the heart's living space and killed the older boy.

"James!" Panda shouted from the driver's side door.

Michael felt the third swing connect with his skull and he blissfully watched the lights go out again.
***

Michael... Morals babe?

Orc was sourly disappointed when he encountered a six-pack of beer torn apart by a bullet.

...one bullet.

One bullet. THink of that.

There would have to be at least 3 bottles left unless it was a ninja bullet with craycray ricochet

AN: It's all coming together! I really enjoyed writing this chapter.
Chapter 100
Michael POV
The throbbing pain in his head chased him down in his strange dream. Although, thankfully, everything from the past few hours faded to mere background noise. Now and then his left hand would violently jerk, as if the kick from a gun was pulsating through his arm. But that was all, and in the dream it was so peaceful. He was home, the home he hadn't seen in over a year when his parents first sent him to what might as well have been a damn insane asylum. And it was before Victoria, before the bad grades, before his sister's cancer, before their parents' marriage turned sour...it was just before everything. The longer Michael looked at what his life used to be, the more he wanted to wake up and get away from it. They used to be so happy. So connected. Where had it all gone wrong?

His parents were well-off people, and the house they all lived in was rather large. Not 'we're stuck up' large, but 'come on in and hang around a while' large. Details told the difference between the two categories, empty soda and beer cans pouring out of the recycling bin from get-togethers and a good number of photographs of the whole extended family from holidays and vacations. For a double-dose of irony, one of those photos had his father's friend from college, the doctor who would diagnose his sister's illness. He wondered as he stared at the framed picture if they'd all been doomed from the beginning.

The orphan wondered if his parents even cared about him anymore. It was a good thing they hadn't had twin girls and named him Annie. The irony would have been too much to bear.

He figured this was one of those weird dreams where you close your eyes and end up somewhere else. That's sort of what happened to him. He was holding a picture one second, and the next his old home decided he no longer belonged here and kicked him to the curb. Well, not the curb exactly. He found himself in an eerily familiar forest, where lush greens breathed life into endless fields of flowers and the ground was drowned in lost lives.

His whirlwind of pain ceased soon after the dreamscape came into focus, relief stemming mostly from the harmonious lyrical song playing in all directions. It came from the trees, the sky, the grass, it was sung by everything besides a singer. Except that it was her voice. She just wasn't here.

He'd had this dream before. The night he and Victoria walked back from their separate encounters with Penny. He unknowingly made her walk several miles on a twisted ankle, for his deep seeded fear of paralysis had taken over and he adamantly refused to get in her car. Some point during his sleep she'd gotten off the couch and while pouring a glass of water, unknowingly revealed she could sing. Then he asked if it was really her, if someone so guarded actually let herself see past the walls she built if only for a little while.

When you miss me, I'll never be gone.
It's just that we've all got to move on.
I may be done but I'll always be here.
Waiting for you, so we'll never have to fear.

The ground. The bloodied ground. Michael glanced down and saw the body of a boy who was a bit older than him, the kid Panda called James. Yet it was Michael's chest that received the bullet and was painfully, slowly surrendering the fight and accepting the time to leave this world had arrived. He stumbled forward until his legs collapsed and he had no choice but to stare, more perplexed if anything, as flowers grew with each drop hitting the vibrant blades of grass.

When you miss me, I'll never be gone.
Can't ever promise I won't leave.
But I'd never mean it, oh, I'd never mean it.
You know I'd never try it, because you're the world to me.

The moment a rush of panic and remorse flooded through him, just as his breathing turned ragged and forced, the nearby river roared and if anyone was around to help him, there was no way to find him. The crystal clear body of water was immune to all the blood, it seemed the two liquids could simply not be mixed together in this world. One last verse was all that remained, but the melody dragged out for an eternity as the river lazily twisted and turned so it ran past him. He could reach out and touch the water if he wanted to. Drown in it.

Cascading through the treetops was a soft yellow light. A girl held something—someone—close to her chest as she walked along the side of the river. That someone started kicking and whining until finally the older girl let the younger girl free. The girl couldn’t be much older than three, with clips in her blonde hair keeping the mess together. She wore a light pink shirt with brown pants, and these little pinkish shoes that were also immune to the death allowing this place to flourish.

“Mommy!” the little girl jumped with excitement as she ran. She’d seen him, and as if the bullet hole in his chest were no big deal she tried to talk to him. Michael couldn’t understand what she said. He didn’t even know that she’d called for her mother, he only saw her mouth move and no sound entered his ears. He could, however, understand her mother’s voice. He could deal with the little girl, and he could deal with the constantly screaming river, but he could not handle the idea of seeing Victoria here.

The dead could not speak to the living. Yet here she was, alive but dead.

I never thought you'd be gone.

“Michael, what are you doing here?” Victoria asked, kneeling so she could be eyelevel with him.

“I…I think I killed him.” Michael stuttered. “I shot him.” He wasn’t sure if there were tears, but he guessed so after she wiped them away. She nodded and they sat by the side of the river, dangling their legs in the rushing water.

Oh, don't you find yourself missing me?

“Is this place real?” He wondered aloud, trying to comprehend how calm he felt.

"For them," Victoria turned around and smiled. Picking up the little girl who fit perfectly in her arms, she sighed. They talked for a minute, Michael unable to hear their words, and then Victoria said, "Be careful!" like any mother would warn her kid before letting her go off into the world.

"Yes, Michael, that's my daughter." Even here she could read his thoughts, on some level that was reassuring. There was some degree of normalcy here. "Her name's Izzy."

"Where's she going?" Michael watched Izzy until he couldn't see her anymore.

"She wants to play with some kid named James. He just got here."

"Is this Heaven?" He asked and thought at the same time.

"I don't know," Victoria's saddened voice matched the corners of her lips tugging downward. She rested her head on his shoulder, and tears threatened her eyes. "I don't know."

"Are we dead?"

"We all die eventually. But no, we're not." She managed a smile.

"Why couldn't I hear what you and Izzy were saying?" Michael asked. He kept glancing back to see where she was, but she was no longer in sight. He would have gone to look for her, but the gaping bleeding hole in his chest prevented him from standing. The injury stopped hurting, though, and he breathed regularly.

"She's not yours." Tori said, and that was all the explaining she was going to do. They were silent for a long time, knowing that eventually he was going to have to wake up and leave. After a while the river slowed to a low rumble and a slight breeze greeted them. "Does it freak you out that I kinda wish she was?"

"No," because he was kinda wishing the same thing too.

Said I'm sorry countless times,

Oddly, the trees and sky began to blend into each other. That blend transferred to the ground with all the beautiful flowers. This world was going down the drain. "What...what's happening?" He asked.

Victoria said, "You're waking up."

"I don't want to leave you here." Michael watched, as she became a part of the monstrous blur.

"Michael, I'm s—

But I guess you were never meant to hear this plea.

He woke.
***
Victoria POV
She'd left their little alcove about an hour ago. There was a town meeting in the church to talk about the new food shortage. Drake's theft had set them back and Sam planned to get a busload of kids to pick fruits and vegetables from the many fields to resupply Ralph's.

She was going to support Sam, that's what the kids who saw her leaning against the back wall behind the last pew believed. She had a backpack full of guns and water bottles full of gasoline. She'd gone around town siphoning from cars in driveways. It was not enough to fill a tank, but Victoria did not plan on driving to Coates Academy. She was going to walk there and walk back. In between those two walks, the FAYZ would be changed forever. They'd be safe, to some extent. She was going to slay the demon. Things would get better, and maybe she and Michael could fix what they broke.

Amy arrived and smiled sadly at her. Victoria returned the gesture, keeping her true motives hidden. She would wait until Sam made his speech and then she'd publicly make an offer the townspeople would not let him refuse.

Howard came in with Orc for protection. Victoria's eyes turned cold and she glared at him, I've got some talking to do with you, weasel. He flinched and thought he was hearing things. Then he saw her smirk and scowled at her. A not-so-hidden middle finger was saluted his way.

About half the town showed up by the time Sam called for the crowd's attention. Astrid and Edilio stood by his side, and the front pew was filled with his allies.

"Uh, hi everyone. Look, the food situation is bad. We have to make cutbacks. Drake's raid put a big dent in our supply. But the good news is that we have farm fields throughout our area of the FAYZ, and the food there is still growing. We need kids to pick the food, and after a few weeks of planting the seeds again we should be able to begin the process of growing our own crops. We need to grow new things to replace the old things."

Victoria sighed. Sam Temple had never been a good public speaker. She was going to make this worse for him, but it had to be done.

Just as she hoped for, some idiot asked Sam why he couldn't just go to Coates and get their food back.

Much to Sam's relief, Astrid stepped in, "The objective of stealing our supplies wasn't to put them on a shelf, it's to use them. Risking our people to recover half-eaten cans of soup is not the best course of action when we have ripe crops up the road."

Already kids craned their necks back to look at her. Victoria had this profound effect on people, an ability to make them wonder what was going on in that head of hers. And as she sauntered down the aisle in full view, that effect struck each kid sitting in the pews. What exactly was Victoria Evans up to now?

She shifted her weight and tilted her head slightly, "I'll get our food back, Sammy."

Her out-of-the-blue offer created cheers from some part of the crowd and skeptic faces in others. Amy was not the only person about to object.

"You just heard what Astrid said, it makes no sense. The food is probably gone by now," Sam said, unsure if her sudden generosity was genuine. "We have food ready to be picked now."

"Dammit, Tori. You're not going." Amy tried to shout above the noise. "Sam, she just wants to—"

There was already a chant rising. For the majority of Perdido Beach, her offer was a win-win. They either got rid of her or got their food back. This was Victoria Evans, she'd probably kill a bunch of Coates kids in a moment of batsh-t insanity. Perdido Beach was ready to throw her a going-away bash in celebration of it, "Let her go! Let her go! Let her go!" The chant seemed to possess a life of its own.

"C'mon Sam, what do you have to lose?" Victoria smiled. At the same time she reached inside Howard's mind, Get your ass back to Bully Row or I'll shoot you right now.

Howard made some BS excuse that no one cared to listen to and left with Orc.

"If I leave now, I'll be back by sunset!" She said, like she was throwing in a DVD player while selling him a car.

Sam was not going to risk any of his people in some hopeless recovery effort, yet a riot would ensue if these people did not have their way. Sam did not want chaos, he wanted people to do their jobs. He'd yet to notice Michael's absence and truly assumed she was being honest. After all, he'd seen him yesterday.

"I know their layout, I know where they keep their supplies, and most importantly when I can get a good shot."

The chant was the only thing that could be heard. Victoria flashed one last smile, turned to leave, and met Sam's eyes momentarily. Would he remember? Victoria wasn't sure, but she waved anyway. She walked out the church, and if she looked back she'd have seen him return the gesture.
***

The orphan wondered if his parents even cared about him anymore. It was a good thing they hadn't had twin girls and named him Annie. The irony would have been too much to bear.

i got chu dat waz funneh!!11!!!! ;D


This was a good chapter. I don't know why Michael was on drugs though and went to heaven xD

man this story is amazing, getting better every time :)

Chapter 101:
Bug POV
He was a little fly on the wall who did not know how to follow directions.

His job was to wait on the outskirts of town and wait until he saw her. Then he'd tell her the terms and walk back to Coates. That was all Bug had to do, but he ended up following her throughout the town. Bug began trailing her when she was knocking on the doors of seemingly random houses in an attempt to ask where her boyfriend was. Bug had a hard time believing he was stalking the same person who three months ago had her hands clawed around his neck in an effort to strangle him.

He had actually sat only a few feet away from her on the rocky ledge. She'd been too distracted to hear his thoughts, but he certainly heard her hours worth of apologies and grew bored. Bug considered revealing himself and giving her the little speech Diana told him to, but there was no denying Victoria Evans scared the living daylight out of him. Even like this. Because Bug was pretty sure the chick was bipolar or something, her mood turned on a dime.

The coin turned when he stalked her to the town church. Unsure of what sparked the sudden change of attitude, Bug stayed on the opposite side of the church. He watched her propose a counterstrike against Coates, and that's when Bug began to worry.

What was more important, the food or the plan?

What was more important to Bug? That was an easy answer. He wasn't too keen on starving to death, and in all honesty he didn't even like Victoria. Whatever she got coming her way was fine with him. Instead of informing her of the rendezvous, Bug left the church and walked back to Coates Academy.

If he followed directions, Victoria would have never went through with her ill-conceived plan. Bug was unaware that she had to intentions of recovering the stolen food, and she was under the belief that it was not Diana who had Michael. If he had told Victoria what she had to do, show the picture printed out from a Coates printer in his pocket, then she would have reluctantly cooperated instead of stocking up on explosives.

On his way out of town, he noticed Taylor bouncing her way across the street. Moments later she was gone.

Bug walked back to school.
***
Howard POV
The FAYZ was a very strange place, Howard Bassem knew this very well. His best friend was reduced to a drunken living rock and they were all trapped like rats under the dome surrounding the entire town and the land beyond. He had talked to coyotes and they talked back, for crying out loud. Howard was no stranger to strange places, but he was fairly surprised to find himself stuck against a wall in his own home with Victoria Evans pinning him there with a rather unattractive snarl on her face.

"If I didn't know any better I'd say you were forcing yourself on me." Howard deadpanned.

Victoria slammed his head into the wall and Howard decided to cut back on the jokes. "I swear if you're a part of this I will make you lose your own sanity."

That was one of the rumors that had circled its way around town the past few months, she could make a person go insane. Howard wasn't sure if he believed it or not, and while it was total bull she decided to play with the possibility of the misconception ringing true and scare him into accepting her demands.

"A part of what? Aren't you supposed to be everyone's righteous food-savior?" He had been foolish enough to let Orc stay behind, because apparently Sammy boy wasn't done with his meeting and Orc felt some need to stay. He still wasn't over the Bette thing. Howard cursed himself, he needed someone to throw this girl out the door right about now.

"This is your f-cking fault, Howard! Anything happens to him and I'm holding you personally responsible!"

Great, was she hallucinating or something? Her anger outbursts spewed spit on his face and he wriggled one hand free to wipe it away. He knew better than to expect an apology. "What are you talking about? And how the hell do you figure it's my fault?" He asked, agitated that he was wasting his time.

"'Cause you started all this in the first place by drugging me, that's how I figure!"

Howard wished he had a time machine so he could leave Perdido Beach the day before the FAYZ. Or at the very least the day she brought up and steer clear of her for the rest of eternity. And although people didn't give him credit for it, Howard was very perceptive. It did not take him long to piece together the events that unfolded inside the church and figure out loverboy was missing. Soon after that he figured out who had him. At least who she thought did. Which meant Howard was very screwed with no way to weasel out. This was a problem he helped create, and Victoria would slit his throat if he tried to run.

"What? Plant Wonder got himself in some sappy situation and can't fight his way out of a paper bag?"

Of the two people in the room, only one thought that was funny. The other stormed off to the safe where Howard kept his products. He was surprised to see her twist the lock to the correct numbers on the first try. She didn't even have to do that safe-cracking move he'd seen on the same spy movie a million times. It occurred to him that she had seen him open that safe on one occasion, and she observed and saved the numbers he dialed.

Howard wondered if it was possible for her to forget anything. He wondered if her inability to forget added with what she'd seen would drive him mad, too. "Hey, what do you think you're doing?"

Tori poured the entire contents into her bag, "Cleaning you out, low-life scum. Where's the weapons?"

"Like hell I'm telling you." Howard finally grew a spine.

He recently dipped his feet to test the waters of selling makeshift weapons. Younger kids weren't smart enough to make their own, and Howard supplied a need for those who were poor shots with guns. Victoria was an excellent marksmadwoman, and he needed to make a living.

She found them eventually.

"Come on, you have your own stuff." He pleaded. She stole all the fireworks Sammy surely would have deemed illegal. He wasn't sure why he stockpiled those, but it seemed like a smart move at the time. She was leaving him with nothing. "Why do you need a slingshot, anyway?"

"None of your damn business." She said as she zipped the heavy backpack up. Sneaking a peak he noticed rope covering all the other supplies, lots and lots of rope. He did not ask her what it was for. The pack must have been extremely heavy for her to carry. "I like being prepared."

"For World War Three?" He scoffed.

Victoria smirked, it was an unhealthy smile that creeped Howard out. "Sure. World War Three."

She was about to leave when they both heard a crashing lamp hit the floor and someone, a girl judging by her voice, muttered curses. Tori instinctively pulled the pistol from her holster, and suddenly Howard was glad she decided to intrude his house at this very time. She seemed to have that type of bad luck, he was just happy she'd shoot whoever decided to sneak up on him.

However, that was not the case. Not shooting the intruder, Victoria lowered her weapon and raised an eyebrow. "Taylor?"

"Hey! I've been looking all over for you, idiot!" The Gossip Queen shouted. Taylor must have bounced in the house and landed on top of the nightstand, knocking over the meager lamp. Howard knew the bulb had died weeks ago, but he still acted annoyed. This was his house, after all, and he didn't like two girls he found more annoying and troublesome for him than attractive invading it.

"Me?" Victoria flinched, the news surprised her. She wasn't the type of person to accept being the center of attention well. She didn't like it, and she'd never gotten used to it. So the notion of people looking for her to talk to her was surprising. "Why me?"

"Because your friend is spilling the dirty little secret to anyone who'll listen. Sam and Astrid, mostly. So we better get moving." Taylor grinned, a completely different version of the one Victoria had worn minutes ago. It was more of a smile that showed she held all the cards. She wanted in on the action and Tori had no other choice but to let her tag along.

"We? There is no 'we', Taylor. This is not a game. There are zero do-overs. No restart button for an easy exit." An emotionless slab replaced Victoria's face. She'd given this speech before, no doubt. Howard wondered who she gave it to.

"It's been nice playing catch-up with you, Tori, it really was. But please get the hell out of my house before you break it," he said curtly.

She scowled at him, but thankfully the two girls left out the back door. Their problem was not Howard's. Deciding to comb the town to restock his inventory, he put the strange encounter in the back of his mind and resolved to never think of it again.
***
Victoria POV
She had to be joking.

Or lying.

Or both.

Still hoping to devise a plan to ditch Taylor, the girls walked through abandoned backyards on their way to the main road. Without asking her to, Taylor did what she was known for: gossiping. Within a few minutes Victoria knew Amy had sought out Sam and Astrid after the chaos in the church died down and the crowd dispersed. Apparently they were still arguing whether to go after her or not. Taylor wasn't completely sure, but she thought from the sound of the conversation that Sam and Dekka were on her side. Victoria felt relief flood through her, if their power––not their powers, the power they held politically––weren't enough to hold off a search party, nothing was.

Tori was actually going through with this.

It was insane.

Irrational.

Completely unplanned.

And she loved it. Loved the weight bearing down on her shoulders, the heaviness of the gasoline and fireworks. It was a little late for a New Years' celebration, but the FAYZ sky was going to have an exquisite show tonight. The grin on her face refused to be dampened by the cold facts. Highly likely that she might not come out of this. Highly likely Michael might already be dead and she, destined to find his lifeless body, would not be able to leave from sheer shock.

Not knowing, though, that was what twisted the evil knife in her heart. It was killing her. The not knowing. Always had. She couldn't stand it. Being here, not knowing if he was OK. Not knowing if he was bleeding out, begging someone to put a bullet between his eyes for the reason he could not endure another second...

Victoria had to know. And if there was any chance, any chance at all of ending this whole fiasco, she needed to take the shot.

And killing Drake in the process wouldn't be too bad, either. A bullet with his name on it was in her back pocket. Contemplating Taylor's reaction if she showed her the engraved messenger of death, she laughed darkly.

Taylor asked, "What's so funny?"

"Me." Victoria answered simply. They left the trees behind and pavement lay under their sneakers. Tori walked on the double yellow line while Taylor bounced ahead every so often. Silent for the longest time, Victoria finally asked why Taylor was tagging along with her.

"What? Can't two roomies hang out together?" Taylor bounced back. They walked side by side now.

Ah, yes. The wonderful days of being Taylor's roommate. Perhaps the single positive outcome of the FAYZ was switching roommate for boyfriend.You sound like a pathetic hormonal teenager. A.K.A Taylor. "No, I'm serious. Bounce home, this is gonna go south real fast. I've got distractions ready but I'm sort of an outlaw where I'm headed and not the celebrated kind. I'm Bonnie and they're gonna gun me down if they get the chance."

Taylor's response was accompanied by a flip of the hair, "To rescue Clyde, duh. You need to admit, if anyone needs a break it's you. And no one lets me in on their plans, anyway. I want to do something. This town is boring with a capital 'B'."

"I thought the capital 'B' belonged to Breeze."

"That girl is letting her speed get to her head. Did you know Dekka has a crush on her but Brianna loves Jack? Computer Jack, of all people!" Taylor said, and the familiar spark from spreading the entertainment news lit her eyes.

"No, I didn't." She lied.

They went on like this for the duration of the trip, Taylor spewing nonsensical garbage and Victoria putting up an effort to care. It was nice, really. Letting her mind wander to what other people were dealing with. Made her problems seem a little less overpowering.

They did not find the body of James, the boy Michael had killed. Not even a trace of blood. It'd all been cleaned up. Victoria made a beeline for the woods a mile and a half from Coates. Taylor did not question her motives, she just followed her. Feeling a need to explain, she said, "Guards have been patrolling recently. Don't wanna get caught before the party starts."

"Should I just bounce in and out of rooms and look for Michael?" Taylor suggested.

"No, anyone could be walking the halls. And I doubt you want to test if you can bounce faster than a bullet today."

"Then what are we gonna do?"

"Give 'em a show, Taylor. Give them a show."

They marched on.
***
Michael POV
"You're an asshole."

Those were the words he woke up to. That and a slap across the face. Shards of glass had left ugly cuts in the skin, and some pieces were still stuck. If he could have found his voice he'd have screamed from the pain. It only lasted a little while, but it made his head spin and he felt the need to throw up.

Only a single lamp in the corner lighted the room. Windows covered by boards of plywood blocked sunlight. He wasn't sure of how much time passed since being knocked out. His head was killing him, and he was concerned he had a concussion. He'd had one a few years ago. Good thing the room might have been a void in outer space, when his friends visited him they thought it'd be hilarious to shine a flashlight in his eyes and clash pots and pans near his ears.

He remembered the difficulty keeping his coordination a few weeks after the fact. It seemed Michael would not have to deal with his balance, he was tied to a chair. The ropes might not hold Orc of Computer Jack, but they did a mighty fine job of keeping him in place. If his knife was still on him he might have been able to cut his way free, but it was missing. The dim lighting showed him it was on the familiar looking desk drawer.

Benno's desk drawer. The kid he shared a dorm with a million years ago. Benno was long gone. Turned fifteen and left the horrid FAYZ. So it couldn't be Benno calling him an asshole, could it? No. Michael might have a concussion, but he still held on to enough common sense to know who was very pissed off at him.

"This isn't my kind of thing, ya' know. Tying up and all that. I appreciate the effort, but I'm kinda in a relationship and I hope to God someone kills me if I get that kinky."

"Shut up." Diana said. He tried to think of another clever reply and came up short.

Fairly unwise to use all his strength in coherent insults and retorts, but it made him feel better. And if she was going to kill him, Michael figured he was at least entitled to a last laugh of sorts. Only now was it all coming together. Bug spying on him and Tori and walking in on them. It hadn't been Drake sending the tool after them, it was Diana. Smart, manipulative Diana who was going to repair the damaged mind of a beaten and heartless king. Michael was the bait. Diana would have Tori fix Caine and he'd lead some second attempt to take over Perdido Beach. The Thanksgiving Day Battle and all the lives lost meant nothing if Caine ended up as dictator.

And the only person who knew this was tethered to a chair with some minor head injuries f-cking up his thinking. "Ugh, goddamn headache. They had to whack me with that bat three times?"

"Consider yourself struck out." Diana smiled. She wore the regular Coates blazer and skirt all the girls used to wear here. He wondered if most kids had any other clothes. A glance down revealed red splatters staining his white shirt.

He supposed he should feel guilty.

He supposed the blood should be freaking him out, that he should be filled with regret and remorse.

"Suppose it's all bullsh-t," Michael muttered under his breath. Even though he just woke up, he felt incredibly tried. He knew better than to give in to sleep. If his head injuries were bad, he might not wake up. One thing was clear to him. He had to get out of here somehow. Worse, that impossible feat was only the beginning in what he had to do. He had to stagger back to town. Warn Sam. About Caine.

"What?" She asked.

He shook his head in a hopeless attempt to shake the pain away. "Nothing," he spat. Blood dripped down his mouth. Just how bad, exactly, were his injuries? And how the hell was he going to escape this chair, let alone Coates Academy?

"Kinda reminds you of when you were a cripple and couldn't save your girlfriend, doesn't it?" Gently kicking his restrained leg, it was more of a tap that he had to remind himself he felt, she brought up the skeleton in his own closet. "Does that still haunt you, Mike? That you were stuck in a room like this one, knowing she was going through hell, knowing that she loved you enough to still stand back up and keep you alive?"

She broke him more than any blow to the head could have. And she wasn't even done.

In those hands that had manipulated people like clay for a living was a letter. He'd only seen her handwriting a few times, when she wrote lists of things for him to get from Ralph's when she was too busy or too tired to go herself. He didn't see the piece of paper until Diana switched the lights on, nearly blinding him.

Michael wasn't sure if she was aiming to break his mind or heart, but in the end she managed to tear both into pathetic imitations of their former selves.
***

...

...


Diana versus Mike.

The ultimate battle of awesome.


Kinda hot, actually.


"This isn't my kind of thing, ya' know. Tying up and all that. I appreciate the effort, but I'm kinda in a relationship and I hope to God someone kills me if I get that kinky."

This made me picture serious Miana S&M so yeah... thanks I guess...

Keep writing :)

Chapter 102:
Taylor POV
Bouncing giddily on the heels of her sneakers, Taylor watched as her partner in crime climbed a tree that was about fifteen feet off the ground. Tori fell a few times, always hissing curses as she hit the leafy floor, and Taylor asked why she couldn't just bounce to the desired tree branch and do whatever needed to be done.

"Because you'll set yourself on fire and I'll have to deal with it." Tori said on her third and successful attempt.

Taylor didn't like being back at Coates Academy. The place always used to give her the creeps, and now, with its jungle-like lawns and broken windows, some of which were Tori's fault, the former boarding school was a disaster zone. Her days of being plastered and left to die, left to starve, were bubbling up in the back of her mind, but a moment later they vanished as if they never happened.

She glanced up the tree and saw Tori grimace, "Sucks, doesn't it? Being back here?"

"Uh, thanks." Taylor said, not used to her roommate being nice to her. She wasn't sure if she liked the older girl going through her memories. "What did you do, just now?"

Tori sighed as she dug through the backpack. "Relax, those stories of me turning people into lunatics aren't true. I can't get rid of the stuff, just push it back down the hellhole it came from."

"What are you looking for?" Taylor asked, bouncing to sit on a nearby tree. She dangled her legs over the side. The school was within sight, and Victoria was right. There were guards patrolling the walkways.

"You know that thing soccer refs use at games to signal halftime or whatever?" Tori said as she pulled out a roll of duct-tape. "Makes a ton of noise and hurts like hell to sit next to?"

"An air horn?" Taylor offered.

"Yeah, that. Figured I'd launch a few of them into some broken windows. Get all the kids to come out. Then it'll be easier to break in."

Taylor's face went pale. She poked holes in the tactic they were going to go through with anyway, "And tell everyone we're here? Seems like a pretty bad plan, Tor."

Something changed inside Victoria when she turned to meet her gaze. It was in those eyes, Taylor realized. Sparks flew inside her head and exploded in the overwrought eyes, showing how ecstatic this part of the mission truly made her. Because it would be total BS to believe for five seconds Victoria didn't crave to squeeze every last drop of revenge out of this place before departing, Taylor guessed pain and desperation did that to people.

She evaluated the girl who used to be her annoying, paranoid, nightmare ridden roommate. The girl who hid her knives now kept them looped in her belt, next to her gun holster. She'd scrounged up another leather jacket before visiting Howard, and she wore a pair of jeans that were more torn up than Taylor's. Replacing that eerie necklace she used to wear was some old cop's badge, although it looked like a glob of metal after surviving a fire. The ratty old thing was attached to a piece of black string. Taylor came to the conclusion that this murderous, victimized girl on her last resort. Victoria was not the girl who used to be her roommate anymore. Taylor figured she'd get used to that.

Victoria glanced down at the badge around her neck and frowned for a brief second. Then followed a nod, and finally a smirk. “You’d think so, wouldn't ya'. But guess what?"

Taylor anticipated the answer. Her tone should have scared her, it would have scared any normal person, but Taylor had lived abnormal for the past three months. She was used to it. So when Victoria carefully placed the air horn and duct-tape in a reachable crevasse and pulled out a match, Taylor remained unnerved. "I'm setting the son of a b!tch on fire and leaving him to rot in hell."

"Aw, how romantic." Taylor grinned, and Tori was tempted to sling-shoot a rock in her direction.

Victoria stuffed the pack of matches in her pocket. "When they start pouring out, you bounce in the school and meet me in our old room. Got it?"

"Is that where they're keeping Michael?" Taylor asked.

"No, see the plywood? Third floor? That's the same stuff they used so I wouldn't j..." she stopped herself, but it was hard for Taylor to pretend she hadn't heard the slip. Efforts to stop the gasp failed, and she felt bad. "It's the same stuff." Victoria quickly looked away and refocused on whatever she was doing.

Taylor was beginning to lose interest when Tori said, "Hey, catch," and tossed a bundle of fireworks to the ground. She soon dropped a lighter down below and Taylor bounced to collect them.

"What are these for?" She asked, curious.

"Light one red if you need help. Light the green one if you find him." Victoria seemed to be carving something in the tree. Taylor didn't bother to ask what.

Noticed there were also blues, oranges and pinks in the mix, Taylor asked, "What do I do with all these other ones?"

"If you really need help, light them all at once and know we're all probably going to die soon." Victoria's attempt at humor cast a dark mood on both of them. "You know you can go home if you want, right? You don't have to go through with this."

Taylor scoffed, "And miss this grand show you've been hinting at the past hour? Nah, I think I'd like to stick around." She pretended to not feel scared, to not feel an impending sense of failure on her shoulders, to not stare as Victoria flinched, barely noticeable unless you were searching for any signs of fear in her. Taylor did notice, because she was searching for it.

As she bounced to the opposite side of the school, Taylor couldn't help but feel she'd heard something the traumatized former psychiatric patient never told anyone before. That at some point she'd considered going through with the unspoken 'j word'.

It was probably the only secret she'd ever keep.
***
Victoria POV
Just like she'd done with Taylor, Victoria shoved the memories down the abyss in her mind and focused on the task at hand. Shooting a slingshot proved to be a little more difficult than she expected. Before using her Sound Bombs, as she could come up with no other name, she figured she could warn Michael not to do anything stupid. No need to go all Rambo and screw everything up. But how? He was too far away for her to get any thoughts across, and she wasn't entirely sure if the blocked off room was his. A lot of kids used various tools to block their windows from the outside.

But somehow she just knew.

Of course, she didn't know that room was his old room. She hadn't even known him back then. Well, she had, but she hadn't known she'd known him until recently. His sister had died at the same hospital she had been in for a good few weeks. When her cancer was on the last of her organs he had sought some sort of vice, an escape from the world, really, by coming up to the roof of Saint Vincent's and throwing rocks out into a vacant section of the parking lot. During one of his trips to the roof that Victoria had picked up a laptop and done some Google searches about why all those whispers were in her head and a few clicks turned into believing she was a schizophrenic who was never going to get the thoughts of others out of her brain, that she was making it up, that if she told anyone they'd send her off to an asylum, and they wouldn't let her out because who in their right mind would discharge her?

She honestly would've done it if he hadn't been such an idiot. He'd stepped in front of her and grabbed her wrists, actually pulling the two of them towards the last inch of the edge.

She remembered because she could not forget. It had been 9:57pm and her parents had left hours ago to the airport to pick up her cousin. RJ had promised to be back in an hour, she had to visit her mother in a nursing home. Tammy, one of the nicer doctors, had to go to her sister's wedding, although Tammy hadn't told her, she'd been thinking about her sister's dress the whole day and Tori had heard everything from everyone.

There was no moon out, so she hadn't seen him. For a moment she believed he was just another one of those voices launching an attack on her psyche.

It's a long drop, and I don't think you really want to die here.

Are you f-cking crazy? Let go of me before I bash your head in the concrete.

Well I would, but then I'd fall and hit the concrete anyway. Paralysis doesn't seem like nice outcome, and that's if I'm lucky.

That little remark would eat him alive.

Then go away. How am I your problem?

You’re not my problem, you just seem...

Insane? A lunatic about to jump to her death? Piss off, I've heard the lecture a thousand times already.

No, you just seem hurt.

And it was those five simple words that had prevented her from going through with it. They froze like that, leaning over the side of the building, for a good ten minutes before saying anything. She held his wrists, ensuring he wouldn't topple over to his death.

When she tried to find him the next day, find any trace of the boy who stood with her on the roof, no one could find him. And she certainly wasn't going to tell anyone how she encountered him. She hadn't known his sister was also a patient there, he sort of appeared out of thin air back then. Fully expecting an article about the Crazy Girl about to jump to her death pop up in any newspaper, she forced herself to read through the multitude of articles. But she'd found nothing and a million more voices smothered his out of the picture.

Victoria held a rock in her hand not too unlike the ones Michael used to throw out into the parking lot and launched the thing directly at his window.

Would he understand? She wasn't entirely sure, but there was no time to waste. Victoria quickly wrapped the air horn's buzzer in duct-tape, providing a warcry much to close to her ears. She cringed as she fired the noisemaker into the sky. She blew up some fireworks and set the tree ablaze. The dead leaves clinging on in a last ditch effort to receive nutrients begged to catch fire.

Distractions taken care of, she reflected back on a grotesque gas station bathroom she had wrapped her ankle up in a few days back. All that graffiti still rolled around in her memories. One design stood out, though. Two rigid red lines engraved in the wall forming the letter "V".

She jumped down below, picked a strategic location where the curious would surely step to get a look at her destruction, and splashed gasoline as she walked towards Coates Academy. Some of the liquid was strategically spilled to garner attention, but the rest was poured into a large puddle.

Victoria stepped outside the lines and dropped a match.

As the flames devoured the dry grass and spread with rapid succession, there was no going back. Smoke stung her eyes, making it difficult to see. Yet as the gray hands reached towards the sky pulling the entire world into a smoldering heat and embers flew in the air, further spreading the sparkling chaos, her eyes found his in that horrid building and they both ignited in hatred.

There was no other way to describe what they had created.

War.
***
Diana POV
Leaving to meet Tori at the meeting place Bug informed her about was when she encountered Drake staring out a second story window. The insult truly presented itself, and no one was ever surprised to find Diana spouting snarky remarks towards Drake and the demented boy returning the gesture with a threat of some sort. Diana wasn't worried, Caine was going to get better and put the rabid dog back on his leash.

"Stick your head back in, Fido. Wouldn't want you to fall out and get hit by a car."

Drake acted like he didn't even acknowledge the comment, the first alarm among several that told Diana something had gone wrong with her plan. The day, which should have gone as smoothly as a day at Coates could go, was spiraling askew. The psychopath spoke with a level of indifference only the hate in his eyes betrayed, "Someone's setting the fields on fire."

"What?" Diana pushed him aside for a look. Two stories down in the midst of a blaze, staring up at them with a backpack over one shoulder and a gun pointed in their general direction, stood the very person who should be hiding in the corn fields a few miles behind the school.

She was grinning up at them.

No. At him.

And then she was yelling up at him, letting the whole damn world know she was here. "C'mon, sweetheart, let's paint the town red!"

There was a gun in his human hand, but he wasn't about to kill her at the moment. His indifference was taken over by a devilish grin. Not when she was clearly setting a challenge on the table. "Oh, just wait right there and I'll be down in a minute."

As if her need for an answer to the powering chaos growing in the atmosphere, Bug materialized in front of them with a grave look on his face. He'd sought refuge in the school when he saw the fires. He said something about spying in on a town meeting, and the look on his face told Diana he never spoke to Victoria.

Diana's plan burned to ashes.
***

Wow... Really good chapter <3

I liked the Taylor Tori part, it was the best.

feeling really bad for Diana though