Author's note: I'll post at least once a month, sorry for the inconvenience but, I have school and applications for college and scholarships and work. Just responsibilities in general. I promise I will be finished with The 5th Wave before the movie is released. Hopefully before The Infinite Sea becomes too popular so I can write fics based off of that book and also the last book of the trilogy. I only wish to uncover what isn't revealed in the books. Thank you all so much for reading these! It makes me so happy to know my work isn't going unnoticed. If you've seen my copy of The 5th Wave, you'll only see about 700 sticky notes covering it. Thanks again! Enjoy this chapter, it's a long one!. More to come soon.
As Evan opened his parents' closet, he recalled the times he'd found Val dressed up in their mom's clothes or the times he'd try to dress up like his dad to try to be like him. The many times his dad taught him to tie a tie and how to keep your suits away from your farm clothes.. Evan reached up and pulled a few boxes down, running his fingers lightly along the shelf to measure how much dust had collected. The first box was a hatbox, which contained pictures of his parents, souvenirs from their various trips like seashells and postcards from the west coast, France, and college. The second box, this one a shoebox, contained various letters and notes between his mom and dad from when they first started dating. At the top of the box laid a single dried pink rose from their wedding day. Mom was always sentimental, Evan recalled. He set the box aside, eyes lingering on the rose, and pulled the third box to him. This box was the largest and heaviest, his biceps strain at the sleeves from the weight. He opened the box slowly, glancing out the window to see the sun's position. "I have time." Evan whispered to himself. This box was the most important to him. It contained his life before the waves, every memory of Val. Five scrapbooks laid neatly stacked in the box, all in order from when he was born to almost a month before the first wave hit. He pulled the most recent from the bottom and flipped it open. These pictures helped him feel more human, like they made the shadow in his mind pull back with remorse. The shadow was always there, just less evident in these pictures. Those were more simple times. He looked at pictures of him and Lauren on their first date, his school pictures, Val's birthday party, a family photo, and a Christmas card: "Season's Greetings from the Walker Family!" "Val, Mom, Dad, Lauren.. I miss you all so much. I promise I won't let this one die." He prayed silently "For you, I'll keep her alive. She's all I have left and For you guys, all I cared about, I will keep living to keep her living. I won't be joining you guys anytime soon, I'm sorry." He placed the scrapbook back in the box and lifted it back onto the shelf, followed by the shoebox and the hatbox.
He felt the shadow returning, reminding him what time it was. He closed the closet door, sighed, pulled the blankets and sheets tighter on the bed, for a neater look and left the room. As he pulled the door shut, a chill ran down his spine and he felt his eyes moisten and warm. He knew that to save Sammy, they'd have to leave very soon. He knew that was one of the last times he would be closing that door. With that, he walked down to the barn, grabbed his sniper and went into the woods to do what he did when the shadow in his mind was strongest. The shadow led him a few miles away from the farm to a tent in the woods, oddly like the way he had found Cassie. He approached the site, keeping his senses sharpened and eyes never lingering in one place for too long. The camp site was quiet, a low fire burned before the entrance of the tent. Her heard a low snore coming from the tent and mismatched breathing. The wind rustled leaved and needles in the trees above him. The shadow told him there were three souls on this site. Three targets. He walked ten yards back, gathering stones and sticks as he went. Once he got his weapon set up, he broke the thickest sticks, sending a loud crack through the forest. He heard the targets stir, hush each other, and the tent unzipped as a gun clicked out of safety. He threw a rock across the site, hitting a tree, snapping Target One's attention to a different direction. "Stay here," Target One whispered gruffly to targets Two and Three.
Before Target One had time to stand up straight, Evan pulled the trigger, releasing a loud CRACK into the air, breaking the quiet. Target One crumpled sideways to the ground, the impact of the bullet overwhelming to his body's center of gravity. Evan's vision clouded and mind left him. The scene played out as if he were watching it on a screen. He flipped his body over the log he was crouching behind and he rushed forward, ripping the tent flaps open. He pulled a knife from a sheath attached to the back of his pants and threw the knife into Target Two's forehead as she screamed for her partner's and her own peril. The shadow took the blade from her forehead, spun around and held the knife in offense toward Target Three. Evan stopped. Like ripping the screen in front of him, he pushed the shadow back and took control. Target Three was a child. A small boy about Sammy's age with light brown hair and blue eyes shining with shock, fear, and grief. The shadow whispered to Evan, encouraging "It's our job. Just get it over with." Evan drew a breath and thrust the knife into the boy's head, his own heart breaking with realization. Evan drew the knife from the falling boy's head and wiped it on the grass before returning it to its sheath. He had to clean up the scene, make it look abandoned. His first time piercing the screen between him and the shadow, and it made him fear for his Cassiopeia more than ever. He crouched outside the tent, regaining his strength and searched for any emotion the shadow held. The shadow was quiet though. Almost remorseful for the evil acts they had just part took in. The shadow had changed. The shadow had seen light and now shared Evan's only wish;
to protect Cassie Sullivan.