Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes.
Shoulders slumped like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.
- Mary Angelou

We kept running and running, our feet making no sound on the gravel.

This was our only shot at freedom – Quentin had blocked every exit in the Elements - the main road was the only path we could take.

Then Catherine skidded into a stop, and I stopped too. So did Austin and Kayla.

"Something's wrong," Catherine whispered, lifting her head to sniff at the cold night air.

A wonderful, sweet smell wafted gently though the breeze, reminding me of being comfortable and loved and relaxed.

Sheer terror gripped at me - I opened my mouth to shout out an order but my lips didn't seem to be responding as though glued together by some unknown substance - and then Austin was screaming but he never screamed - I saw a dagger pierce his thigh but there was no time to mourn now as the Rebels were coming -

In the next second Catherine got wrestled to the floor by a tall dark figure and Kayla was unconscious on the ground with a tranquilizer dart impaled in her leg.

They'll never take me alive, I thought dazedly.

"Laurel!" Catherine suddenly shrieked, her limbs flailing. "Th -"

Her voice was cut off abruptly when a gloved hand slammed over her mouth, and I didn't even get the chance to be furious when Quentin bowled me over.

"Saved the best for last," he hissed with a malicious smirk on his face, pinning me onto the ground.

"Good to know," I spat back reflexively, and reached up to scratch at his face.

But I couldn't. Pure fear snatched at me, howling like the wind and tearing at my clothes.

Quentin swiped my hand aside and we wrestled on the ground like fighting she-cats. In the corner of my eye, I saw Catherine and Kayla being pulled away and into the white building hidden by the trees; Catherine was still struggling furiously, her muffled cries echoing around the clearing until her shoulders sagged and the brown haired girl collapsed onto the ground.

She'd given up, I realized - not dead, not injured, not unconscious by a stabilizer - but given up. The Rebel that had attacked her - I think it was Steven - knelt down and whispered something to Catherine - and she nodded numbly. Steven stared at the petite girl for a moment, then pulled Catherine to her feet and locked her arms behind her back with his own, pushing her towards to the white building.

I, to put it plainly, was furious.

Quentin had noticed where my eyes strayed to, and then he leaned close to me and said smugly, "Why don't you just give up?"

I let out a scream of rage and raised a hand to slap him, but Quentin swatted it away.

"Do you know what's going on between her and Steven?" Quentin asked, cruel amusement glittering in his eyes. "Because I don't."

"Don't you dare suggest anything like that about my leader!" I snarled, aiming a kick to his stomach. Quentin dodged it, and then he pulled out a needle.

Oh my God. Oh my God. No. No.

Frantically, I tried to twist away, all coherent thought scattered by the screaming panic burning through my brain.

We wrestled silently for another moment, me being the prey and Quentin being the hunter - then he caught hold of my wrist, and Quentin's amber gaze met my haunted blue eyes.

He was holding the needle to my arm, nearly piercing through the skin. Both of us were breathing hard, and I was sure that Quentin's heart was beating just as fast as mine.

"Do it," I told him. "I dare you." I slipped my other hand into my back pocket. "Do it." My fingers found the minuscule object. "I don't care anymore."
Then I brought out the tiny pill.

"It's a win-win situation," I continued, lifting it to my mouth.

Quentin hesitated. Then he leaped for the little object in my hand, and I lunged for his stabilizer.

Neither of us got what we wanted; my fist fastened around the pill and held it high out of Quentin's reach; the blonde haired boy pulled the stabilizer behind his back.

"Looks like you value my life, Moore," I sneered. "Who are you working for?"

His golden irises showed venomous hatred, all concentrated in obsidian black pupils.

"I'm not working for anybody, Laurel," Quentin said calmly, and I knew that was the truth as his loathing eyes shattered the sweet innocence of his angelic tone. Then he pitched his voice low, curling a hand around my wrist and pulling me closer, so close that his lips were almost touching my ear. "I'm going to torture you and make you beg for mercy. I'll crush your bones and cut out your tongue. I'll shatter you and make you wish you were never born." Then Quentin's tone dropped even lower, and he added underneath his breath, "And then I'll kill you."

He was holding the stabilizer to my arm again, and this time I knew he would not hesitate.