IX.

Ben didn't sleep that first night in the Capital. He walked around the dorms for a short minute before a guard told him he needed to turn in, that it was past curfew. By the time he reached his assigned dorm, his roommates were already in bed and passed out for the night. Two of the boys in the room weren't familiar, and from their garments, obviously they were from the Capital. The other boy was a 2nd Mass member, Ben recognized him as Valerie's little brother. He was thirteen, his name started with a "D", but that was all Ben could remember from Valerie's ramblings about him on those few nights they'd been assigned patrol together when Jimmy was unavailable.

For the rest of the night, Ben sat up listening to the sounds around camp. It's noises were different than the 2nd Mass. Majority of the people were asleep, a concept hard for Ben to wrap his head around. There were also barnyard sounds from the livestock. Cows, chickens, other animals Ben didn't recognize. Along the perimeter, men were on patrol, but the Capital occupied a larger span of land than Ben could hear the whole way across. They were too far away from the command center and the front gate for Ben, and the 2nd Mass was beyond too far. It felt odd to be so disconnected from them.

Eventually, Ben let his mind drift, and as his mind drifted, that ever present crackle in the distance grew louder and more prominent. He'd been shutting it out with his grief those past few weeks, hadn't thought about it in week, so he hadn't realized, but the signal had grown stronger. It pulsated through him, pounding in his head and beating in time to the blood rushing through his veins. He closed his eyes and he could taste blood in his mouth, smell smoke, and he felt, for a moment, like he was losing Jimmy all over again.

When he opened his eyes, it was morning.

The other boys were waking up already and getting dressed for the day. They gave Ben wary looks, and none of them greeted him, though they all spoke to each other like old friends. Ben followed them out to the mess hall where breakfast was being served. Ben scanned the crowd for his father, figured he might as well report in. Hal and Tom were sitting with Dai, Maggie, and a few of the other fighters that came in with that first group. Reluctantly, Ben took the empty seat beside Maggie. She barely glanced his direction.

"They have a curfew at night," Ben said, partially in question.

"Yeah, lights out is at nine. Supposedly to conserve energy," Tom replied.

"We can't be out of our bunks then, either?" Ben persisted.

"Only if you're under eighteen," Maggie said, her eyes were on the plate of food in front of her. There were eggs for breakfast, and for a second that fact tripped Ben up and startled him into a brief silence. He stared at the yellow scramble in confusion; they didn't seem to belong there beside the oatmeal.

"Curfew is eleven for adults," Dai said, picking at his plate, his expression unreadable as he explained, "All the children here are orphans. They think structure will help keep them in line."

"It's probably not the worst thing," Tom admitted, shrugging, "They also teach the children trade skills around camp, things for survival. Most learn fieldwork, some are learning medical from the doctor, and they have a blacksmith or tanner, old school handy man I guess is what they call him, he's taken a couple apprentices. Older boys can choose to start training as guards and scouts when they turn eighteen. It's a nice system."

"You're alright with the curfew," Ben said, gaping at his father in stun.

"I understand why some of our people won't like it; it is a good way to maintain control of the populace," Tom said.

"Are you even listening to yourself right now, dad, you know better than anyone…"

"Calm down. I didn't say I agreed with it," Tom took a bite of his food, swallowed it down with some fresh milk, "You're right, Ben, it is cause for alarm. That's the trouble. Everything here seems to be cause for alarm, but nothing sends up a big red flag. There are reasonable explanations for everything. They have hundreds of people in a small area, they're trying to maintain peace and limit crimes, like violence, sexual assault, meanwhile keep productivity going to ensure the group's survival. It's smart."

"Also disturbing," Dai commented.

"And wrong," another fighter added, shaking his head, "They keep fighters separate from civilians like we're corralling prisoners or slaves. Have you noticed yet that all their fighters are men, too? Some of the women back at camp aren't going to be thrilled when they get here and have their guns stripped from them."

"If that happens, we won't be staying," Tom said.

"But where else would we go?" Maggie said and the group fell quiet.

Tom cleared his throat, "Dai and I are going out with Wade and his men after the orientation to bring supplies back to our people. I'll talk to Weaver, let him know our concerns. If he says to pull out, we'll leave tonight. Hopefully the Berserkers will be back with good news by then. Cranston says he's arranged for me to meet with the man in charge today, too, I'll ask him about getting families bunked together. There's no good reason why families should be separated."

They finished up breakfast with mild conversation about the landscape and possible escape plans. After, they were brought to a kind of epicenter of the residential area, into a large, open air structure. It served as a meeting place for the community, and the people of the Capital were already gathered there. Wade gave the introduction speech. He brought Tom up to the front, and Tom said a few words of greeting, gave his thanks to the people for letting the 2nd Mass stay. A woman with long black hair wound into a braid gave out job assignments to 2nd Mass-ers, handed them work clothes, and then sent them on their way to groups of Capital people with the same jobs. Like Tom had said, most of the civilians were sent to work agriculture. She paused at Ben, gave him an uncertain look.

"You'll be in Work Group Blue 9," she said, pointing to a cluster of young boys standing at the far edge of the meeting area.

Ben recognized his roommates among them; he also spotted the boys he'd seen at the fence the night before. He took the offered garments from the black haired woman, gray sweats and a t-shirt, same as the other boys, and he turned to join his group. A few cold looks from the boys told Ben to keep his distance, and he more than happily obliged. He wasn't interested in making friends; he wouldn't make that mistake again. Once assignments were finished being given, they headed for the fields. There was another gate, and they were let through by yet another armed guard. It was a short hike to the barnyard, the stench of animals came first, and even with his dulled sense of smell, Ben was turned off by the odor.

Aside from Ben, there were three boys from the 2nd Mass in Work Group Blue 9. They seemed to be making friends easily, chatting with several of the Capital boys. It had been a long time since they'd met new people. Everyone kept their distance from Ben; made it known he wasn't wanted there. One of the boys announced that the new workers could change into their work clothes in the front barn and then pair up with someone to train for the day. There were horses in the barn, which startled Ben at first. He wasn't expecting it, and wondered what the horses were there for. He wandered to the far back stalls, out of sight of the other boys, to change, and put his hand on the haunches of the horse inside. It glanced at him, unperturbed, kept eating its hay and Ben smiled, despite himself.

Outside again in his work clothes, Ben found that the other boys had already partnered up and the group was hard at work. Ben held his original clothes in his hands. He spotted a storage chest on top of which the other boys had stacked their clothes. He left his there, walked out towards a pen where a dozen or so small goats were housed. He leaned against the fence, watched them a moment, but relented to the fact he needed to get to work. He looked over to his work group for an approachable face. Most of the boys averted their gaze, those that didn't wore dark, warning expressions. He sniffed, set his jaw, and turned back to the goats, let the sting set in. It didn't matter; he didn't need them, he could figure it out on his own. It was probably better this way, anyhow, that they keep their distance. A small ache pierced his chest, the way Jimmy should've kept his distance.

Some of the boys were arguing at the barn, hissing at each other in low whispers, shoving each other. Ben perked a brow, glanced at them from the corner of his eye. Eventually, one of the boys got shoved from the group, the blond from the night before. He shot the boys a hard look, straightened himself, and sheepishly began Ben's direction. Ben turned his attention to the goats again, feeling a deepening cold come over him, a weight growing heavier in the pit of his stomach, with every step closer the boy came.

"Hey," the boy started.

"Let me guess, you drew the short straw," Ben said without looking at him. There was a brief pause.

"Yes," the boy quietly admitted, "Except no straw. There was a vote, I lost…or won, however you want to see it." He coughed, fidgeted a minute, and extended his hand, "I'm Ryan."

Ben regarded the offered appendage, made no move to take it. He met Ryan's eyes with a harsh glare.

"Ben," he said, pushing away from the fence and stalking towards the other boys hard at work, "Let's get this over with."

"Oh, okay," Ryan stammered, hurrying to catch up, "We do the animals in the mornings. Throw out feed, muck stables, shit like that. Have you ever done that kind of work?"

"No," Ben said.

"Me neither, not until I got here. City kid, you know. The animals all freak me out. Horses and cows are the worst. Why the fuck do they have to be so big? You're from Boston, right? 2nd Mass is all from Boston?"

"Mostly."

"Cool. I'm from Boston too. Small world, I guess. People here are from all over though. Massachusetts, New York, Pennsylvania, New Jersey, some from Connecticut. There are some people here all the way from California, they were vacationing when the aliens invaded, you know," Ryan said.

Ben stopped, gave Ryan an inquisitive look, and Ryan went quiet, blanching.

"I'm sorry. I just…I'm nervous. I ramble when I'm nervous, or just always. I'm a rambler," Ryan took a deep breath, rolled his eyes, and said as though he were put out about it, "People are saying you killed your patrol partner."

The words hurt, even though Ben couldn't say he was really surprised. Maybe surprised it spread so fast through the town. It was only the second day.

"I don't really believe it. People talk trash. When they're scared or don't understand things, I guess. People talk trash about me, too. Around here they got nothing better to do," Ryan said, crossing and uncrossing his arms, he swept some loose hair from his face back towards the rest bunched up in an elastic band. His soft gray eyes searched Ben.

"You should," Ben finally said, lowered his eyes and continued towards the others, "You should believe it."

"It's true," Ryan asked.

Ben paused at the boldness of the question, only long enough to let his own emotions overwhelm him. Suddenly, caught up in a rush of memory, he could feel the blood warm on his hands again, Jimmy's fingers twined round those jagged rods in his neck, and the touch of Jimmy's cold lips, their last kiss. For what felt the thousandth time since waking that day, the billionth time since that night, Ben wondered at the look in Jimmy's eyes, how his heart breaking felt, at that very moment Ben betrayed him, failed to save him, maybe, even, was the one to kill him.

"It's true he's dead because of me."

A pot of coffee was brewing in the kitchen. Jimmy could smell it and it prompted his eyes open. He'd been lying awake nearly an hour, wondering why the bed felt so cold and lonely, and now it all made sense. He stretched, tossed off the covers and wandered into the living space.

"I was starting to think you would sleep all day," Ben greeted, working on scrambled eggs. He leaned against the counter, grinned broadly.

"That was my plan. Not fair, leaving me all alone. That's fighting dirty," Jimmy complained, crossing the kitchen and meeting Ben with a kiss. Ben laughed, brushing the hair from Jimmy's face, relaxing with Jimmy leaned against him while using the spatula to move the eggs around in their frying pan.

"What have I got to do with it? You could've stayed in bed."

Jimmy made a face and pulled away, heading off in search of a coffee mug in the far cabinet.

"My plan was to sleep all day with you, otherwise, what the fuck is the point? Come on, Ben, its winter break. There are no classes to go to, and no work," Jimmy said, pouring himself some coffee and taking a sip. He pouted at the young man on the other side of the kitchen, "It's ridiculously cold outside. I'm freezing my ass off right now. All evidence points to our best plan for the day being: you, me, in bed, under the covers, sharing body warmth," he perked a suggestive brow, "And other things."

Ben rolled his eyes, "We can't stay in bed, Jimmy."

"And why exactly can't we?" Jimmy demanded, crossing his arms over his chest. He frowned, dropped his eyes, a chill racing his spine and sudden fear creeping into his heart, "Don't you want to be with me?"

"I think you're the one that doesn't want to be with me. You made a promise, remember?" Ben said, he'd turned away now, his attention on the cooking eggs. They were burning now. Jimmy's hand went instinctively to his chest, to the bullet around his neck.

"I know," Jimmy whispered, "I just…I've made a lot of promises. I don't know which ones I'll be able to keep."

Ben slammed the spatula down, spun to face Jimmy again, his features lit with rage.

"But keeping mine should be what's most important to you!"

"It is important to me," Jimmy cried.

"Then why are you second guessing yourself? Why aren't you pushing forward? If you're planning to keep promises, why isn't one of them mine?" Ben yelled.

"I'm trying the best I can," Jimmy whispered, shuddering as his breath came out in a puff of air, "It's cold, Ben, can we go back to bed?"

"Actually, I think it's about time you woke up," Ben said.

Jimmy blinked, startled back into reality. He lay against a tree with the bow and quiver of arrows relaxing next to him. He'd fallen asleep while waiting for prey to come by. A fresh layer of snow had settled over the landscape and blanketed him in his sleep. He sniffled, his body trembling with cold sweat. He cursed under his breath and pulled himself to his feet, was hit with a dizzy spell, and nearly collapsed back to the ground.

"Stupid," he told himself, plucking up the bow, shouldering his quiver, and stumbling back towards camp. He was on week five, and had felt illness coming over him the past few days. He didn't have many options but to press out into the cold every day for food and supplies. It was taking its toll. Now, he could feel the weight of fever on his brow and seeping heavy into his limbs. He felt a wreck and there was no time to rest and recover.

He was halfway home when he heard a cry of pain. At first, he thought it might be an animal, maybe, but nothing more. He trudged forward until a piercing scream cut through the still air. He pressed his body flat to a tree, an arrow notched on his bow's string and senses on full alert. When he didn't hear or see anything else, he slowly began again for home, hoping, whatever it was, was maybe farther in the distance. He kept his bow still held at the ready, though. Nearly four minutes later, coming down a slope, he saw a flash of movement. He stopped, heart pounding, breath bated, a layer of sweat on his skin and fever blurring his vision. Another flash of something, darting around trees, weaving through the woods.

Jimmy dropped to the ground as much out of view as possible and tried to focus, get a better look at what he was dealing with. They were nearly a klick down the hill. Two people, boy and girl, running like they had hell on their heels, and a brief second later, Jimmy confirmed that they, in fact, did. Three Skitters were hot on their trail. Jimmy stayed low, watched, and weighed the situation in his mind.

Considering the direction the boy and girl were running, they and their pursuers would bolt right by Jimmy's home base and never even know it was there. If Jimmy waited it out several minutes, gave them all time to pass a safe distance, he could go home and forget he ever saw them. Likely, the two humans would be dead by then anyways so it wouldn't matter. Of course, that left live Skitters nearby, but it wasn't a great risk. They probably wouldn't see his home on the way back to their unit either.

Really, it was all a matter of whether Jimmy could live with the guilt. Given the circumstances, all he had was his bow and arrows against three Skitters, and no clue whether he could actually trust their victims, ignoring what he'd seen was his only option.

Trouble was, Jimmy was already on his feet tracking the Skitters. He moved more swiftly than in the snowboard boots with the hiking boots he'd pulled from one of the houses earlier that week. They handled the snow better than he expected, though were about two sizes too big for his feet. He caught up quickly, took out one of the Skitters with a lucky shot, arrow straight through the back of its head. The other two were immediately alerted to his presence by the kill though, and his element of surprise was completely gone.

One of the Skitters went in search of Jimmy. The other continued after the boy and girl. Apparently, they'd found an old shed and locked themselves in. Not the smartest tactical move. Jimmy sought cover in the woods, heading back up the slope. He needed to keep high ground. He didn't want the Skitters to see him though. If they thought a mysterious force took them out, chances were low that a scout group would be sent to investigate; they might even assume the boy and girl were slaughtered by the same unknown assailant. If they knew a young, teenage boy took them out, it was guaranteed a team of Mech would sweep the area.

After a short, upward hike, Jimmy doubled back around for the shed. He would take out the Skitter on those people first, draw the second one to the shed, and hopefully leave before those two ever saw him, be home in time to check his traps and have rabbit for supper. Snow was falling again. Good, it would cover his tracks. Plan fell apart when he nearly stumbled into the Skitter pursuing him. He'd underestimated the sound of snow crunching under his feet, and the heightened hearing of Skitters. He barely had a chance to get an arrow off before it was on him. His arrow pierced the creature's shoulder, and it took him down. He fumbled for his knife, but the Skitter knocked it into the snow as soon as he got it from its sheath. He fell back to the snow, struggling, part of him aware he was calling for someone that wouldn't be coming.

The Skitter pinned Jimmy down under its claws. It would be sending for backup to collect him and the other two for harnessing. It held him pushed to the ground, eyes roving over him almost curiously, examining him closely, roughly shoving his face to one side, to the other, picking at his clothes to get a closer look at his body, a rush of cold licking across his belly as it ripped open his shirt. His heart pounded in his chest, body flushed with embarrassment, what the hell was it doing? Jimmy pushed against it, fought with his one free hand even though it was futile until his hand found the arrow shaft. Without thought, he tugged the arrow out, the Skitter screamed and Jimmy plunged the arrow down its throat. It died on top of him, and he squirmed his way out from underneath, snatched up his bow and arrows and raced for the shed.

The other Skitter was inside, it had the boy and girl trapped. Somewhere, a Mech sang out on the wind, and every bone in Jimmy's body froze to the core. The Skitter heard Jimmy approaching, spun round, and he put an arrow through its face, and another one into its neck. It dropped dead to the ground, and behind it, backs pressed to the wall, clutching on to one another were the boy and girl, gaping at Jimmy.

"More are coming. We have to go," he told them, breathless. They stood paralyzed, stared at him in fear and stun. He growled exasperation, tossing the door further open and roared, "If you want to live, move."


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AN: There's the chapter. I hope you all enjoy.

Leave a review?

Thanks to those who reviewed!

LuckyDreamer91, I might change the name, I might not. I've got an idea for it, considering what it turns out to be, but we'll see. Jimmy and Ben will be reunited soon-ish. My version of soon anyways. Which means, maybe not for twenty chapters? I don't know. We'll see how long it takes. After, they'll be together for pretty much the entire rest of the story though, so there's that to look forward to. Dee, I'm glad you liked the chapter. I wasn't overly fond of it...or this one, but oh well. That happens. Yes, Weaver would have kissed you for punching that guy out. The man was a civilian, so no, he wasn't a fighter. None of the fighters would've been stupid enough to speak Jimmy's name in front of Weaver, especially not like that. The doctor is a creeper, but there are creepier characters coming up that will definitely be trumping him. Aw...Cranston is just following orders. Yeah, its funny that you say that, because their goal in dividing people up like that is supposedly to protect them from violence and abuse. At least, that's what they say the reason is. You'll see what's really going on in the Capital soon-ish. Anyhow, there was Ryan's official intro. Gary will come soon.