Finally.

I stumbled past a few charcoaled branches that lay on the ground, trying to ignore my nearly unbearable desires. My hands were inches away from the singed door, kept upright by only a few weak brass hinges nailed to the shack's walls. The strangely placed house was still standing, despise the odds that it should have been burned to the ground by now.

I quickly scanned the perimeter, searching for anything out of the ordinary, like murderous coyotes or strangers. Not that I expected anyone, or anything, to be living here after the fire, but just in case.

After endless hours of digging up infuriating memories from the depths of my mind and aiming my palms towards the sky, I still hadn't been able to get anything to shoot from my hands. Not even a little spark. So I had given up trying, for now.

But that meant that I was still completely defenseless, especially when I was as weak as I was.

My thoughts snapped back to my survival, so I focused my eyes on a shiny piece of metal attached to the side of the shack, sparkling in the sun. I squinted, taking a few unstable steps towards it, and realized that it was a spout. A water spout.

A grin broke out onto my face, and I leaped towards the appliance, a sudden burst of energy. My fingers fumbling with the slippery metal, I managed to twist it sideways so that a stream of cool and luscious water spilled out, into my mouth and all over the ground.

Pausing between mouthfuls, I tried to remember the last time that I had felt this happy. So content, so free. Even though it had only been a few days ago since the FAYZ, it had felt like weeks ago. Days ago since everyone fifteen years and older had disappeared. Days ago since Caine had come to Perdido Beach. Days ago since I had met Drake.

I bit down on my lip, determined not to ruin the moment. Instead, I concentrated on how I felt physically. My thirst was now quenched, but I was still incredibly hungry. It had been almost two days since I'd last eaten, and I was growing weary from the lack of nutrition.

I savored the wetness on my lips, satisfied, and forced myself to shut off the faucet and walk over to the front of the burned shack. Using a little but of the strength that I had left, I pushed open the door with my shoulder and eyed the inside, looking for something useful. An old stove, a comfortable chair, a tattered rug. And, to my complete joy, an opened cupboard, filled with tones of cans and packaged meals.

I stepped on the carpet, noticing how untidy it was in here. Empty pudding cups and fruit salad tins lay sprawled out on the floor, probably eaten by Sam and his friends. I kicked an old can of chile aside, wrinkling my nose as a few ants scurried out of it, and reached for the packaged food in front of me.

I hesitated for a brief moment, wondering what would happen if the owner of this place returned, but then dug in, realizing that he or she would have more important matters to deal with then a teenager rummaging through his or her house.

That is, if the owner came back.

Soon I was full, and lay back against the recliner, which smelled like sweat. As I waited for sleep to hit me, I planned my next move, thinking about what I wanted to do.

There was no way that I was heading back to Coates. I was done with that place, even if Drake was still alive. I wanted to see him again, to hold him, and let him tell me that everything was alright. Then we would maybe patrol the town for a little while and stroll back to his apartment to rest.

But I had to tell myself that even though some pretty wierd stuff had happened, my fantasies weren't realistic. They were what I wanted them to be, which was the opposite of what was happening right now.

I couldn't dwell on my past or my future.

I had to focus on the present.

I was in the middle of nowhere, sitting in a charcoaled shack, with no weapons. Where could I go?

I realized that I wasn't tired at all, despite my long walk, so I stood up and shuffled through multiple drawers, looking for anything that resembled a map. Maybe there were some more cabins just like this one, leading to a city. It was unlikely, but I knew that it would be useful to have something that could tell me where I was.

There wasn't much here except for a collection of books and a few documents which I didn't bother to flip open. I did sneak a peek at a copy of a driver's liscence though, curious to see who all these items belonged to.

Jim.

Huh. Jim's last name was scribbled out in black. I guessed he was the secretive sort of guy. But what was there to hide in the middle of the desert?

I realized in a shocked instant that it would be pretty easy to hide anything. Who would stumble across an old, wooden shack?

I shuddered, possibilities of Jim's real identity flooding into my mind. Was Jim a murderer who was hiding from the police? An undercover spy from another country? A gang member?

I caught myself after a few minutes, and frowned. It was a crossed out last name, for crying out loud! It didn't mean that Jim was dangerous. He was probably just being careful, not wanting to give out personal information to random strangers who were tresspassing. Like me, for example.

Enough of that. There had to be a map in here somewhere. I doubted that Jim would be stupid enough to live all alone without some way of telling where he was.

Maybe he had it stowed away in the closet for safekeeping, in case of an emergency. I turned the brass knob, and glanced around the slightly messy storage space. Sure enough, folded neatly on the top shelf was a piece of graphing paper, buildings and roads printed on it. I carefully picked it up, unfolding the map so that I could see where I was.

I flattened the paper out on the wooden floor, tracing my finger along the road from Perdido Beach to Coates. Now where had I ditched the highway?

My finger followed the red lines off of the map, so I flipped it over, realizing that my calculations had been unnecessary. Jim had already marked the location of his home with a red dot. I was approximately twenty miles away from Coates, and thirty miles away from Perdido Beach.

There weren't many places in a walking distance marked on the map, except for a mine about a few miles away from here. I guessed that that was where Jim worked during the day, and probably where his car was, if he owned one. If I could somehow get to Jim's car, and find a way to start it, I would be able to leave this lonely desert and head somewhere else, maybe see how far the barrier went. Who knew, there might be an exit somewhere.

So I figured that that was my plan, for now.

To go to the mine and get out of here.

To leave everything behind.

There was no time to think about the flaws. I had no idea how long I had before I was put in danger again.

I grabbed a plastic bag from the ground and stuffed it with a few cans of beans, pudding, and fruit. Then I found a few empty jars, walked back out to the faucet, rinsing them out and filling them with water.

I managed to find a hammer in the closet, which would serve as my single weapon of defense. If I swung it hard enough, it could do some serious damage.

I searched for a source of light, flashlights, matches, candles, but came up empty handed. I shrugged, figuring that I'd reach the mine before nighttime, anyways.

There. I was all set. It was time to start hiking again. Back into the scorching heat.

But this time I was prepared.

----------

Oh, no.

I hadn't expected this. I hadn't expected this at all.

I had made it to the mine in less then an hour, barely using up any of my supplies. I had found Jim's car, a new looking red truck, parked out front.

But I had also discovered that I wasn't alone. I hadn't been the only one who had thought that coming to the mine would be a good idea.

I was now crouched behind Jim's truck, trying not to catch the attention of two vicious coyotes, patrolling the entrance of the mine. What the heck were they doing here? If I could only find some way to actually get into the truck, and lock the doors. Then I'd be safe, and I could get away from this extremely strange situation. Since when did coyotes stand guard?

I snickered to myself. It's not like anything normal was happening. Since when did I clutch hammers in my hands, and plan on stealing a truck?

I was suddenly aware of a low rumbling behind me, accompanied by a menacing snarl.

Oh, lovely.

I slowly turned my head, wincing in fear. I knew what was behind me, but I didn't want it to be real.

"Nice coyote." I whispered, my voice shaking. I held up the hammer in my trembling hands, still on my knees. The two coyotes growled, their hackles raised in anger. They crouched forward, ready to spring. "Oh, crap."

I covered my head and leaped up, backing away from the predators. Maybe if I moved slowly enough, they would ignore me. The coyotes inched forward, drool gathering on their furry muzzles. They were scrawny things, but surprisingly larger then dogs. It was obvious that they were hungry.

What was I supposed to do? I didn't want to fight them. But what choice did I have?

"Stay away!" I shouted, swinging the hammer in the air. "Go away! Shoo!"

The coyotes jumped back at mu sudden movement, and I could practically see their beady eyes narrow. Their skin pulled back over their teeth, resulting in another horrible snarl. I could tell they weren't going anywhere.

Both coyotes glanced at each other for a brief second, and the first coyote nodded.

I gasped as the second coyote leaped towards me, it's jaw snapping at my neck. I felt a sharp, fiery pain in my right arm, followed by a sickening crack. The hammer dropped to the ground with a thud, signaling the first coyote to attack as well. Their weight knocked me down, and soon both animals were on top of me, yanking and biting at my flesh.

I cried out in pain as a set of teeth sunk into my right leg, sending a strong jolt of fire through my nerves. I felt a crushing weight on my torso, and a warm liquid spill over my eyes, blinding me with red. I heard the tear of my clothing, and an endless amount on growling.

I started to lose feeling in my agonized limbs, which were probably broken in a number of places, mangled beyond belief. The pain was everywhere, making me dizzy and weak.

Soon I couldn't struggle any longer. I was out of energy. I was going to die.

Darkness was crowding my vision, and I knew that I was on the verge of unconciousness. My whole body burned, a bloody mess, electrifying sparks ripping through my battered, raw skin. Even if the coyotes did ley up before I was finished, I wouldn't be able to get help soon enough. I was as good as dead.

I tried to ignore the loud whirring in my ears, but it was useless. I heard a frightened yelp, and suddenly I wasn't weighed down anymore. Great.

They were gone, and I would soon be as well.

I tried to shout out, but no sound came from my torn mouth. My head throbbed, feeling like it was on fire, jagged spikes pulsing through my veins.

I struggled to stay awake, but I was getting pulled deeper and deeper into blackness. There was nothing I could do except lie there, writhing in torment, waiting to die.

But I familiar voice jolted my senses, lurching me out of misery for an instant.

I forced my eyes open, despise the blood, and the sharp blades that enhanced the sheer agony. I couldn't see anything, but I could still hear.

"Gretchen!" I felt someone next to me crying my name, their voice filled with pure horror and shock. It was raw, tortured, as if what they were seeing was deathly, unbearably painful.

Drake.

I was too hurt to register any form of surprise. I just wanted to tell him that I could hear him, but nothing came. I tried to shake my head, but I couldn't move. I felt hands on my shoulders, shaking me back and forth. Something squeezing my palm. Ragged breaths on my forehead.

"Help her!" Drake demanded, desperate, tone choked. "You have to help her!"

The whirring in my head was growing louder, the blackness getting deeper, flames burning hotter. His words didn't make much sense to me anymore, the white hot pain too much to handle, searing through my mind.

I barely felt the palm pressed against my forehead, and another palm on my chest.

"She'll be okay, right?" Drake pleaded, his voice shrill with fear. I had never heard him their scared before.

"Yes." I heard a female voice, more annoyed then terrified. I could tell who it was. "She'll be fine."

Yeah, right. What was she going to do, heal me?

Oh.

If I could have moved my hands, I would have slapped my forehead. Of course. The girl was the one who could heal. The one that we had captured and brought to Coates. But what was she doing with Drake out in the desert?

That silent question made me realize that I was able to think straight again. Here powers must be working.

The pain slowly began to dull, her hands moving up and down my broken body. Drake had put some kind of cloth on my head, moping up all of the blood covering my eyes. There was a new weight was on me, this one of exhaustion. I had only slept a few hours last night, only half of what I normally rested. Besides, I had been hiking almost all day.

I started to feel a lot better, my burning pain reducing to a dull ache. It was hard to believe everything that had just happened, all passing so quickly.

"Are you okay?" Drake whispered shakily, unsure of whether I could hear him. He rubbed my shoulder, making me shiver at his familiar, gentle touch.

"Y-yeah." I whispered hoarsely, lips dry, my eyes finally adjusting to the bright daylight. "W-what... happened?"

Drake laughed, a dark, menacing sound. He drew in a shuddering breath, making me realize how much tension he had been holding, why his hands were curled into tight fists, knuckles white. "I'll explain later. But right now, we're going to head back to Coates." He paused, nervously scanning my gruesome injuries, and brushed a lock of bloodied hair out of my eyes. "I mean, if you're up for it."

"No." I tried to sit up, struggling against the fiery pain in my arm, but was still unable to move. "What are you doing here? I thought you were... hurt." I paused at the end of my sentance, realizing that I hadn't actually seen Drake's appearance yet, because he had been towering over me this whole time.

But as I turned my head around to get a better glance, I gasped. "Y-you're... arm!"

Drake's arm was now a blood red whip, curled around his body like a vicious snake, ready to strike. It appeared stretchy, like taffy, and I couldn't help my jaw from falling open in pure horror.

"Isn't it great?" Drake laughed again, slightly more bold, running it's scaly tip lightly over my cheek. "That's why I was out here. I needed to fix my arm."

Then Drake's expression grew serious, as if remembering something important, and he frowned. "But what are you doing out here? The last time I saw you, you were next to me in the academy's field. When I woke up after I had passed out, I couldn't find you anywhere. I searched Coates and Perdido Beach, figuring that you had gone back with Sam and the others. After I had looked and found nothing, I left with her." Drake jerked his thumb at the healer girl. "To get my arm back."

I didn't know what to say. My mouth felt dry, as if my words were at the tip of my tongue, my eyes turning away in shame. His explanation had left me feeling like I'd been punched in the stomach, a painful reminder of what a coward I was, leaving him to die. I had left Coates, despise the fact that Drake was still there, and had run off into the desert.

"Gretchen." Drake's expression was still stern, but contained a lighter edge, a gentle warmth covering his features. He must have noticed the tears starting to well up in my eyes, betraying my emotions, a pitiful thing to do. Crying was a sign of weakness. "What are you doing here?"

"I-I ran away." I admitted, choking out the words, feeling extremely guilty. I bit down on my lip, hard, preventing the tears from spilling over. "I... couldn't take it anymore. I knew that as soon as I saw you again, there would be no way that you'd take me back. I came here, searching for somewhere to go."

"Why wouldn't I take you back?" Drake asked, sheer horror filling his tone, astounded by my assumption. "I nearly had a heart attack when I came out of the mine and saw you lying on the ground, practically dead. I mean, of all the crazy things that have happened, that was the craziest yet."

"I-I'm sorry, Drake." I apologized, frowning, trying to block out his worried expression. Concentrating on the girl, I noticed that she was still pressing one of her palms against my leg, the other against my arm. I wiggled my fingers. "I just... I didn't think you'd forgive me, after I left."

Drake's expression was hard. "I would never do that." He shook his head, sandy colored hair rustling through the air, a wind blown mess. "Never. But I still don't understand. Why don't you want to return to Coates?"

"I just can't go back there." I mumbled, the pain almost completely faded away. "I don't think... I just can't. And besides... Caine will be really mad."

"Caine will be ticked off." Drake agreed, nodding sympathetically. "I didn't exactly ask for his permission to head out here, either. But we have to go back. The big fight is soon, and Caine will need all the help he can get."

"He just wants you there." I rolled my eyes, indignant. "I'm nothing to him. The only reason I'm still receiving orders is because I'm with you."

"That's not true." Drake shook his head, frowning at my assumption. "Caine wants anyone who will help him defeat Sam Temple. Besides," Drake winked at me, a smirk on his face. "We're a packaged deal."

I thought about that. If I left, would Drake really come with me? Would it even make a difference?

"There." The healer girl muttered, brushing the grimy dust off of her blue jeans. "I'm getting better at this."

"Thanks." I grinned, slowly standing up. My body was still sore, cuts and bruises everywhere, but intact.

Deciding that I didn't really have much of a choice, I gave in to Drake's request. "Fine." I grumbled, letting him wrap his still human arm around my waist. "Let's go back to the Fearless Leader."

"Good choice." Drake grinned his shark like grin. "It would suck if you weren't there for Sam's defeat."

"Or Caine's." I whispered, too quietly for anyone to hear. "The odds are pretty even."

The three of us moved to the side of the mine, where a dark colored car was parked. I smiled, extremely glad that we weren't going back to Coates on foot, and sat in the front passenger's seat. right next to Drake, who was at the wheel. The healer girl sat down in the back seat, staring at nothing in particular, after getting shoved in by Drake.

Drake raised his eyebrows at me, amused by my smug expression. "What are you so happy about?"

I laughed as he started up the car's engine. "You'd be too if you had walked all the way here."