Chapter 1

3 hours left until dawn. Time to hustle.

Chloe leans her left ear against the door, careful to avoid any splinters. She waits for any sounds of movement. Seconds tick by, then minutes. Satisfied, she holds her breath and slowly turns the knob. The unlocked door quietly opens without a creak.

Success! Ninja Chloe strikes again.

Disposing the lockpick, she crouches as low as possible and silently steps into the house. She gently shuts the door behind her and stealthily scampers to the darkest corner of the hallway. She lets her eyes adjust to the lack of light for several moments and analyses her surroundings.

The interior of the semi-detached house looks like every other house in Arcadia Bay today. Abandoned, broken, despondent. Rubble are intermittently strewn all over the floor and gaping holes on the walls have been hastily boarded up with uneven planks of wood. The recent rain gives off an unpleasant damp, mouldy smell and Chloe swears she hears rodents scurrying around somewhere in the vicinity. She peers into the kitchen nearby, and sees steam waffing out of a pot.

Someone is here.

She takes a deep breath and tries not to get her hopes up. There is no proof the person she's looking for is here, and it will not do her any good to go calling her out and getting herself killed for no good reason. Chloe may not have to constantly worry everyday about being shot, but she does live in a warzone. It is impossible to shut out the sounds of shelling and shots ringing in the distance. Whispers of civilians being slaughtered and purposely taken advantage of by soldiers are not uncommon, no matter how hard the military tries to shut down the rumours and blame them on the rebels. No one can continue living in such a situation without developing a basic level of street smarts.

Chloe shakes off her thoughts and focuses on her current objective.

Find Rachel.

She sneaks down the hallway and passes an opening on the floor that leads to the basement. There are flickers of light through the cracks and she hears barely audible music playing.

Wait, not music. Are those…whale sounds on loop? What the fuck.

Suddenly, Chloe hears a male voice coming from beneath her. He sounds agitated, even unhinged. She freezes for a few moments but is only able to make out one single voice. Chloe picks up her pace and moves on, hoping that whoever the man is stays in the basement until she finds Rachel. Best case scenario, he's a friendly. Worse case scenario, he comes after her with a hatchet.

Okay, she's not here. Maybe she has already left?

She quickly tries to hunt for any clues or signs that could be left behind by Rachel. Perhaps a note, one of her earrings, bracelets, or, hell, even a torn piece of her shirt. Anything to indicate she has passed through here. It is not like her to go for weeks like this without letting her know she was fine.

The only reason Rachel could have disappeared without a trace is… No, I am not going there. Especially when there is no body as proof.

Chloe is just toeing past the first bedroom when she felt a ferocious blow to the side of her head. The hit left her sprawled on the grimy parquet floor. Despite seeing stars, her survival instincts kick in and she quickly crawls away from her attacker. Her hand gropes for her holster and grabs her 9mm pistol.

"Stay the fuck away from me or I'll shoot!" she warns, as she turns on her back and points her weapon at her assailant.

"…Price?" says a vaguely familiar voice as the figure ignores her threat and inches dangerously close.

The throbbing in her head becomes more pronounced even as she stops seeing double. Her head finally connects against a huge, fallen debris as she is backed into a corner. She squints her eyes to get a better look at her attacker. At first, she could only make out a tall man with disheveled brown hair wearing a dirty tan jacket and jeans. It is not until she looks at his cobalt blue eyes that something inside her mind clicks.

"Shit, Nathan Prescott? What the hell are you doing here? Are you on an assignment?" she asks, lowering her gun, feeling slightly relieved to see a familiar face.

But she doesn't realise that the familiar face is looking at her fiercely, even menacingly.

"No, what the fuck are YOU doing here? Fuck, no one is supposed to know I'm here! Who sent you?!"

"What? No one sent me, asshole. I am looking for Rachel. This is listed as one of her assigned temporary safe houses…"

Chloe's explanation is suddenly cut short when Nathan kicks her pistol out of her grasp and points his own Glock 20 at her.

So that's what he hit me with.

"Nathan? What are you doing? Come on, put that thing down!" she pleads, feeling confused and disoriented as her hands grope for any small debris she could use as projectile.

"Don't EVER tell me what to do. I'm so SICK of people trying to control me!" he yells, coming in closer to her with the barrel of his handgun pointing straight between her eyes.

"You are going to get in hella more trouble for this. Madsen will make you pay if anything happens to me," she threatens meekly, and briefly contemplates lunging at him but she knows she's too dizzy and weak to make a sudden movement.

"Nobody would ever even miss your punk ass, would they?"

That struck a nerve for some reason, perhaps because it is so damn accurate. It was certainly enough to make her throw caution into the wind.

"Get that gun away from me, psycho!" she spits out.

Bang!

A shot fired. Chloe closes her eyes on reflex and feels something falling on her legs. The bullet whizzes so close to her head that her right ear is ringing so hard it must be bleeding. She opens her eyes; she doesn't understand why she is still alive, or why Nathan is lying motionless slumped on top of her. She looks up to see another person over her. The figure is more petite this time, a female tentatively holding a baseball bat with both hands. Her face is filthy.

No, wait, they are just freckles…

"Hey, erm, are you okay?" she asks, almost timidly, as if Chloe isn't the one bleeding, unarmed and unable to move because there is a full-grown man trapping her underneath him.

But the intruder's voice clears the fog in her mind; the grogginess Chloe has been feeling due to the initial blow is suddenly lifted. The female's face comes into focus. It is a face that is as familiar to her as the back of her hand; the face that she dreams of every time life is being a bitch to her. She doesn't know whether to feel elated that one of her dreams finally came true, or scared that she is actually dead and staring at her angel.

"Max?" Chloe finally squeaks out.

There was a moment of pause before the person's eyes grew wide in recognition.

"…oh my god, Chloe?!"

It is the final thing she heard before passing out.