A/N: I really really loved this book. It was truly amazing. I'd always wondered what happened to Alex before he showed up at the end of Pandemonium. This is just a snippet. And was inspired by the song 'Radioactive' by Imagine Dragons. Look it up, its some good stuff.

Alex had never been more furious in all his life, but neither had he ever been so scared. He had yelled at her to run, begged her and he wanted her to keep running and to never stop. Not even when he legs gave out. She had to crawl and then roll, and keep going until she was dead. Lena dead would be better that her becoming one of them. But the thought made him bite his tongue and tears well up inside him as a sharp, hot pain laced through his torso, through his chest.

He was dirty, covered in ashes and dust where 37 Brooks had practically been blown to smithereens. The thought made him gulp around the golf ball expanding in his throat.

They had taken his father, forced his mother to run and in the end she'd died, forced him to conceal himself in a world he belonged in; they killed his home, and may or may not have murdered the love of his life. His sight was tinted red and his mouth tasted like metal. He wanted to hurt something; kill something; blacken and burn it like his insides were. Like his heart was becoming.

The Crypts bus came to a shuddering halt and the doors were wrenched open. Standing there, framed with the light from torches and spotlights were the guards and regulators.

"Ready for hell lover boy?" the one who spoke was a short, bulky man who was unnaturally red and looked about ten seconds away from a heart attack. His eyes were small and watery, but they held all the malice of a demolition team on steroids.

The sight of him made something black rise in Alex's gut, so he did the only thing he could. He spat in the man's face.

"Like hell."

The hate inside him was intense, never before had it been so strong. He had been able to live in relative with the zombies for years, but now the idea was sickening. Staying with these cruel bastards any longer was going to make him blow. He could feel it shaking his bones, leaving a bitter after taste in his mouth.

The guard wiped his face sneering and raised his club to line up with Alex's skull, and he was going to welcome it, welcome the dullness and pain because being unconscious was better than looking at them. Time seemed to slow down and then a hand came up and wrapped around the guards forearm.

"Jacob," came and all too familiar voice, "I'll take him. They need him conscious."

Then the other guard, the one with the familiar voice turned to look at Alex, his expression one of disgust and Alex was proud of how far Mitch's acting had come. The kid made a really good... Invalid.

The guard called Jacob lowered the club after a minute, "Watch out, he's a spitter." There was a flash of amusement in Mitch's eyes but it was gone in the same instant.

"You got it."

Jacob hopped out of the back of the van then and Mitch closed the doors and knelt down next to Alex.

"God have I missed you," he said, a smiling lighting his face.

"You too cousin, but before we get to this, will you please untie me?" Alex grunted, straining on his binds.

Mitch undid the nylon cords tying Alex's hands and feet together and with a flourish wrapped his 'cousin' in a hug.

"Raven sent me to get you," Mitch whispered after a moment of comforting silence, "it's time to come home. I've been looking for you for days. The sympathisers you were staying with have been caught, we figured it was only a matter of time before you were as well," he smiled wryly.

Alex's heart leapt into his chest. The people that had helped raise him now in the Crypts? His fault. His entire fault. He brought on the suspicion; he pursued her, Lena, beautiful Lena.

He turned away from Mitch and took a few deep breaths, steadying himself.

"Get me out of here."

The fury was back again. It was like an itch covering his body. The scratches up his arms were the only thing he could keep doing without getting them into anymore trouble. He needed matches, something to occupy his mind, but Alex knew he wouldn't be able to stop himself from burning down all of Portland to find her, Lena.

He'd told Mitch all about her, the way her hair glinted slightly red in the sunlight, that blush that spread across her cheeks when he took her shirt off, there was no point hiding anything from him. No one ever did. In the Wilds, love was something you shared whole heartedly. That had never changed about him. He told of how she loved him inexplicably, how she laughed when she was nervous, and would hold his hand and brush against his side unknowingly when they walked places together.

Without realising he pulled the box of matches he always carried out of his pocket and lit one letting it burn down until right before it reached his fingers and before snuffing it out.

The fire was in his fingers anyway; in his toes, burning everything. Burning through him, through the spots Lena had touched. Through his heart. He was dying, hell he knew he was going to die without her. It was like poison. Like all this time he thought she'd been healing him, but without her a cancer sets in.

It was sadness and fury and, "We have to find her."

Mitch didn't try to deny it, "I know."