Chapter one:
I was quiet. I liked listening to my Flock's breathing at night, when it was just me and the silvery moon. It hung like a white-ish orb above the tall leafless trees. I was on watch tonight, alone, staring up at the moon through the trees. Even though the Erasers and Whitecoats were long gone, we still kept watch at night. We could be jumped. Any old crook could still come at us in the dead of night, not that we couldn't handle it, or anything. It's just, surprises don't bode well with us after nearly ten years of fighting and running and being one step ahead of our enemies. We were alone now, in this world. No one knew we existed except for the Martinez's, and they were allies.
When I was on watch, I felt free. The moonlight seemed to send energy filtering through the trees, and seek refuge in me. I was strong and…. Somehow more alive then I'd ever been before. I could see everything for miles around because of the pure white light, and I felt protected. Life felt good then. No Whitecoats, no Erasers, even Ter Borsht was no longer living. He died from a metal disease, and as far as we know, he didn't leave anyone to carry on his vile experiments.
I looked at the moon once more, and watched with satisfaction as the clear light penetrated the darkness with such ease. It was almost insulting, really. I'd spent my whole life attempting to destroy the evil, and when I had, and I felt good and peaceful, it was shoved in my face. The moon cut through darkness like a hot knife through butter, effortlessly and carelessly.
I leaned back on a tree trunk, my ears alert for any sound. Iggy would probably hear it before me, all the same. He was lying still, near Nudge. He had his arm around her waist. If something was out there, he'd know before any of us.
Angel was curled next to a tree trunk, awake. Her eyes were gleaming wolfishly in the reflected moonlight, sending shivers down my spine.
Gasman was breathing quietly, tunneled under his blanket. I could see the rise and fall of his chest, beginning to show visible muscle now that he was thirteen.
Fang was lying on his side, under a blanket normally shared. The wind played with his shaggy black hair, and I could almost hear it laughing serenely.
I looked back to the moon. The full moon was the best, so large and white and round. I envied it, at times, just because of its careless living. It didn't worry, because noting could try to kill it. Nothing could destroy the moon. I watched it move over the cloudless night sky, my raptor eyes sharp enough to catch every movement. I was wide awake now, and I decided I might as well sit up through the rest of the night.
I had the middle watch, and Fang was next. I heard him stir, and get up to sit near me. I leaned on his shoulder, and we sat there through the end of my watch. Now I could sleep, but I didn't. I got our blanket, wrapped it around us, and stayed awake, leaning on Fang's shoulder until morning.
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