A very familiar sinking feeling settled within my stomach, a feeling that caused your skin to become ice cold and your heart beat accelerate. A feeling that made you feel as if you were to puke up a tennis ball at any moment, all of your senses suddenly jumping into over drive and making you feel so incredibly screwed yet invincible at the same time.

My knees went up to my chest instinctively, feet being pushed against the Skitter as it launched towards me, now giving me just enough space away from its pincers. Its claws were scratching at my face as I reached for my rifle, my hands shaking as I attempted to grip onto it. The weight of the Skitter pushed down on me, knees digging into my chest and increasing the feeling of suffocation, the screeching practically bursting my ear drums.

My fingers gripped onto the rifle, forcing myself to think of nothing but Hal's instructions, how to focus on nothing but getting Alex back. My aim was sloppy, due to the grappling and my position I only scraped its shoulder, but it was enough to make it pause in its tracks. It's screeching reaching a new pitch due to the point, it allowed me to focus on a clearer shot; a shot to the head.

Someone else got there first, the Skitter practically collapsing on me a second later, dark liquid seeping from the wound in its shoulder and head. I attempted to slow my breathing, controlling the panicking feeling within me as I tried to shuffle out from underneath it.

"Hold on," a voice panted out, "I'll get you out."

I pushed with both hands, raising the skitter from my body as it was dragged from me. I rolled away from it and the garbage bin, panting heavily as I lay there for a few seconds, eyes wide in slight shock at how close I had just come to death. Again.

Every day I seemed to be narrowly escaping it, and it was that way for everyone now. Living day to day without getting yourself killed.

I pushed myself up to my knees, gradually standing and bending to pick my rifle. I looked up to Hal, realising he had been the one to save my ass, he stood by the dead skitter, looking out to the wreckage. Everything felt incredibly silent, although I supposed it was due to the explosion nearly deafening me. There was still a few Skitters and Mech's a long way ahead, but no more gun shots.

"Everyone's split up; we'll meet them back at camp. Come on."

He didn't even look at me as he began running in the other direction, and I had no choice but to follow as I swung my own rifle behind my back. He took an abrupt turn down an alley way, and I had to pick up my pace twice as much since I was so much shorter. He continued doing that, taking quick turns and only stopping to look around corners, panting softly. He was far more in shape than I was, but I had long ago stopped caring for the dirt and sweat that caked my entire face. Being clean was a myth now.

"Sorry," he said between breaths, and I looked up from my bending position to see Hal smiling apologetically, "we can take a break."

"Jesus, were you a track athlete in school?"

I commented, as I leaned against the brick wall of the alley we were in, and allowed myself to slide down into a sitting position. With my legs crossed I leaned my head back, wiping sweat across my forehead. Hal came to stand opposite, leaving some space between us as he knelt down onto the balls of his feet, pulling out a map from a pocket of the inside of his jacket.

"Lacrosse actually," he smiled widely at that, feeling smug with himself, "but nice try."

"Shut up."

He shook his head in amusement as he chuckled, laying out the map between us, pointing his finger at places he had circled with a sharpie. I had no idea what I was looking at.

"This is the camp, and we're here." There wasn't much of a distance between the two and so I didn't imagine it would take us long to get back, only the sigh that escaped Hal's lips seemed to suggest otherwise. "We're gonna' have to go the long way around, and through a lot of back alleys. The Mech's and Skitters seem to patrol all the main roads within a 20 mile radius."

"All these numbers and dots are hurting my head, just tell me how long it'll take us to get back."

"By tomorrow afternoon."

"Tomorrow? How the fuck is that even possible?"

"If I try any of the usual or quick routes I'll lead them right back to camp, and I will not jeopardise everyone's lives."

"Everyone except our own."

I muttered sarcastically, looking away from him and out to the main road.

"You're not gonna die Thalia, not while you're with me."

To say his words had startled me would have been an understatement, and when I looked back to find Hal staring directly at me with an expression of sheer confidence and determination I felt uncomfortable. It was the amount of conviction he always had, and easily dependable he was, and I found myself feeling terrified. I had quickly become so dependent on Hal myself that it was dangerous, especially in the world we lived in now, the only person I should have ever depended on was myself. We remained like that for many moments, blue eyes locked with brown, and it was a stare I found myself unable to look away from.

"You're annoying."

I eventually said, watching his self-satisfied grin emerge again. Never had I met someone so incredibly proud of himself in the most irritating way, and still manage to be charming. Not that I would have told him that, Hal would be lucky if I ever gave him a backhanded compliment.

"We can walk from here," he said, putting the map back in his jacket, "just stick to the shadows."

We hadn't settled somewhere until hours later, Hal breaking into a small Starbucks from the back, going in first to give it the all clear while I followed with my rifle at the ready. It was pitch black inside, and only until he deemed it safe did he switch on his flashlight, just about managing to illuminate his face. We stayed well away from the front of the store, and just by the counters. It was dark outside, and with us outnumbered, low on ammo and no supplies it would have been stupid to continue on.

"I'll take first watch," he said quietly, not even needing to look at me to know how exhausted I was, "I'll wake you up in four hours."

I nodded, once again being reminded of just how much more out of shape I was compared to him. Yet I found myself practically collapsing into the corner we had settled ourselves into at the back of the shop, couches and chairs surrounding us as a form of camouflage. I practically hugged my rifle, resting a bent arm beneath my head as my eyes instantly fluttered shut.

"This'll teach ya to do as ya told!"

He slurred out, his stance wavering with every step he took, yet along with his drunkenness came a brute strength that made me cower in my room when he came home like this. My hair was yanked on with such force I was dragged across the living room, my vision blurred with my tears and I only briefly saw my mom's cowering face in the corner. Bruises littering her face, something so common I didn't understand why people looked at her weirdly when we went out.

Dad knocked over the ironing board that had been in front of her as she sat on the couch, unable to walk because she had fallen down the stairs last week. He pushed her out of the way, paying no attention to her as she fell into the pile of clothes that he had knocked over.

"Sa- Sam please stop-"

"Shut up! This is your fuckin' fault in the first place, If you hadn't been so fuckin' clumsy you coulda' gotten it yaself! This is your fault!"

"Daddy stop please!" I choked out, tears falling out at an uncontrollable speed as I scratched at his hands, his grip in my hair so painful.

He ignored me, his other hand grabbing the iron, and before I could beg him to let go an uncontrollable scream ripped through my lips. Pain taking over in waves that it was all I could think of, and all that kept running around in my head. The iron burning through my skin over and over again, my scream becoming silent as I felt like I had lost my voice, only I didn't realise that that wasn't the case. My ears had simply become deaf to the volume that I had taken it to, and even when I began choking on my sobs and tears, unable to breathe properly, I still didn't stop screaming.

Slowly the image of him and mom, and the iron and our living room that always stunk of whiskey started to fade away. But the pain stayed, and so did my screams. Something I would never forget, even as I begun to realise that it was just a dream, me reliving memories from another life.

Still half asleep and disorientated I twisted and turned, unaware of the hand that tucked strands of hair behind my ear, too cautious to try any other form of contact. The hand continued to do so in a comforting manner, whispering softly as if it would push away the dream, and it did. I thought it was my mom, coming to me when dad wasn't at home and giving her the only time she could to comfort me, running her hands through my hair and telling me how sorry she was. Telling me dad loved me, and he was just always sad and she would stay there, crying with me. With Alex tucked in between us. His toddler self not actually sure what was going on, but wanting to comfort us still. With the image of my mom and Alex beside me I descended back into sleep.

My slumber remained undisturbed until I woke up that morning, and rubbing the sleep from my eyes I realised that Hal hadn't woken me for my watch. The sun shined through the cracked windows, lighting up the store and distorting my shadow as I stood. Hal turned around from his crouching position, in the middle of packing his rucksack.

"Good," he said lightly, "you're awake."

"Why didn't you wake me?" I asked, watching as he spoke without hesitation.

"You looked like you needed the sleep."

"And you didn't?" I countered, a brow rising at the clear exhaustion etched all over his own face.

He shrugged, grabbing onto his rifle and placing the strap on his shoulder, "I've gone without sleep before," he said, his casual grin still in place, "but you still need to adjust."

He seemed convincing enough, only the annoying voice in the back of my head was telling me that he wasn't being entirely truthful. That he was holding something back, and it was only confirmed with the way he was looking at me now, he seemed to be trying too hard to look casual. His smile usually came off as so comfortable, except it looked forced, and the playfulness in his brown eyes now emitted a newfound softness them. He looked guilty of something.

I knew he wouldn't tell me, even if I pushed him to, so with a scowl in his direction I led the way out of the Starbucks. I was all too eager to return home now, and to my bunk that I was now ridiculously comfortable with, unable to imagine anything better than this life now.

I stopped myself midway into those thoughts, confused as to when I began regarding the came as my home.

It's been almost seven months and I apologise for taking so long! Next episode things will pick up as we officially fall into the storyline of season two, which I'm hoping to have up in the next week! Please review, if you still care haha