I am soooooooooooooooooooooooo sorry that I am only writing the next chapter now! My parents took us on a mini ski vacation (fun, but I had to leave my laptop here) and then break ended and school started again…

Anyway, really sorry. I hope you'll still read it!

It was only an hour or so after Liz had left me that I realized I was being followed.

It wasn't so much of a certainty as a feeling, the prickle on the back of my neck that meant I was being watched. Every few steps I would whirl and study the thick undergrowth behind me for any sign of disturbance. There was none.

Still, I couldn't shake the growing unease. That combined with the fact that all the adrenaline in my veins had long since disappeared left me cold, miserable, and wincing with every step. I had been able to ignore the waves of pain rolling up from the bullet wound at first, redirecting them away from my brain like a rock disrupting the pattern of a stream. Now that the immediate survival instinct had fizzled out, I was forced to endure it. Instead of only resting every half hour or so, I was stopping to catch my breath every five minutes. That made my progress horrifically slower, but there was nothing I could do.

As I walked I mulled over who could be following me:

A) My friends

B) A ghost (most likely Royce)

C) Edison Group

Here are the reasons why they aren't the ones following me:

A) they would've approached me by now instead of all this creepy tracking crap

B) He would have scared me by now and/or started throwing pointy objects

C) ?

Only one option made sense: I was being followed by the Edison Group.

If I thought I'd have stood a chance I would have turned and confronted them. As it was I resigned myself to trying to figure out why they were following me as opposed to, oh…I don't know. Shooting me? Again?

Mere thinking wasn't helping anything and after another hour of walking the growl in my stomach had begun a rising crescendo. If I had remembered food I wouldn't be in this situation, just another reminder that as much as I tried to play it, I wasn't Indiana Jones.

I couldn't keep this up much longer. Eventually I would need sleep, a scary enough prospect without knowing I was being followed. It seemed my only option would be to confront the pursuers, though that would most likely end with a bullet in my head.

I didn't dare turn around and actually meet them face-to-face (my bravery has limits) so I did the next best thing: climbed a tree. Ideally, they wouldn't notice that and would pass right beneath me, unsuspecting. I had no clue what I'd do then, maybe fall on top of them since that seemed to work last time, but I didn't want them behind me anymore. This is assuming there is someone following you. A voice whispered in the back of my mind. I shook it off, though it did have a point. Still, I wasn't willing to take the chance so I decided to stick with my tree idea.

In only a matter of minutes I was perched on a low branch, just high enough to melt into the foliage. There I crouched in the now familiar position, digging my fingers into the rough bark as I waited. I didn't even want to think about how many splinters I was going to have after all this Tarzan tree crap.

It wasn't long until my suspicions were proved correct. A pair of men decked out in total camouflage crept out of the undergrowth. I couldn't be sure past the massive night vision goggles dominating the majority of their faces, but neither of them looked familiar.

"Wait!" One of them held up a hand, lifting the clunky black radio he clutched up to his ear. "I think someone's trying to connect-"

"Give me that!" The other one snatched it away from the guy. The one he grabbed it from didn't put up any resistance, so the other one must be inferior somehow. Team leader?

"This is team Dakota. Status?"

The radio crackled to life in his hands.

"I only want you to give yes or no answers, understand?" the unrecognizably tinny voice came from the radio.

"Yes." the Edison Group spoke into the little metal box, face wary. I held my breath and leaned as far down as I dared, straining my ears so I wouldn't miss what was said next.

"The other subjects should have caught up with her by now. It is troubling they haven't approached her."

"Yes."

The voice on the other end sharpened. "That didn't warrant an answer."

"No."

"They should have approached her," the radio continued. "They must know she is being watched. No doubt the poltergeist Elizabeth Delaney has been aiding them."

"So what should we do?"

"Provoke them. Make them think she is in immediate danger. That will effectively lure them out of hiding."

"And then?"

"Careful with the questions. There is a good chance that Derek can hear you and is listening in on your every word right now."

"Yes."

"But to answer your question, just fulfill the primary mission. I want you to bring me my son." I almost fell out of the tree when I realized it must be Kit on the other end. That must mean they were after Simon…And the way they were talking made me feel like a worm on the hook. Bait. But one small fact brought me comfort: if all they were saying was true- my friends were nearby. Derek was out there, within hearing distance, waiting to rescue me. Though I had run away to protect them, my hero instinct had long since died out. The thought of seeing them made my heart lift, though I knew it was horrifically selfish of me. Then I remembered what else they had just said, about luring them out of hiding by threatening me, and my heart sunk again. It seemed my friends were about to walk into a trap and there was nothing I could do about it. At least not yet; I wanted to listen more first.

"And the other one, sir?" the guard dared asking timidly.

"Other? Oh, you mean my other son." A short barked laugh. "No, Derek is not my son."

"So…?"

"Try not to kill him; he is still a valuable subject. But he will certainly prove difficult to ward off…Just do whatever it takes to get my son, my real son, back in one piece." I felt that like a punch in the gut, even though it wasn't me he was talking about. This was Simon and Derek's dad? Even if he didn't seem to feel any fatherly attachment to Derek, his "other son" certainly did.

"Yes."

"Now, do you still have the Saunders girl in sight?"

"No."

"No?"

"Not directly."

"But you still see her location on the GTS, yes?"

"Yes." Shit.

"And she is nearby?"

"Yes."

"Good." the voice- Kit- sounded satisfied. "Leave your radio on and say when you have him."

"Yes."

"Good luck." the radio gave one more crackle before falling silent.

I knew now was the time to act, to go full out ninja and drop down on them or whatever I had been planning on doing, but I couldn't seem to make my heavy limbs move. I was literally frozen by the weight of the knowledge I had just obtained. The panicky signals being sent to my brain were met with a solid brick wall.

"So what do we do now?" The initial guard lowered his voice beyond a whisper, leaning in close to his companion. I hoped that wouldn't be enough to keep Derek from listening in.

The other's mouth was twisted in silent thought. When his partner began to speak again, he held up a finger for silence. Eventually he spoke in the same low tone, "follow my lead." the other guard nodded his agreement.

He continued in a much louder voice, falsely loud to my ears, "It is suspicious that they haven't come for the Saunders girl by now. I guess they aren't going to come after all."

"So what do we do now?" The other guard asked, voice also too loud. They wanted Derek to hear this.

"Shoot her."

I tensed myself for launch but didn't get the chance. A strangled roar erupted from the bushes behind us, a dark blur barreling into the guards before I could make my move.

The guards had their guns halfway raised before Derek caught them, knocking them over simultaneously like a twisted game of Red Rover. Clearly they hadn't been expecting the speed and velocity of his attack, for they lay there stunned for a moment. That was all the time Derek needed, he pounced on the nearest guard and descended in a whirl of swinging fists and kicks.

"Derek!" Someone yelled. It may have been me.

Simon, streaked with dirt with leaves tangled in his hair, blundered out of the bushes, raising his hands to cast. I heard the rustling of Tori behind him.

They were too late. The other guard had recovered and had lifted his gun, pointing it right at Derek.

I know, I know. I make you wait for a week and then I end on a frickin' cliffhanger? I don't blame you if you want to kill me right now but I will right more ASAP- promise.