A/N: I cannot tell you how exceedingly embarrassed I am at how long it has taken to write a new chapter. Some of you very kind souls asked a while back when the new chapter was coming and I said the answer was shortly. That was horrible of me to drag it out, but the real world got in the way. But, here we are. Hopefully this can help make up for wait. To everyone still reading, thank you.

Chapter Twelve: Twilight Shadows

What had begun as a conversation held in muted whispers swiftly had turned to an argument in hissed sharp sentences and wild gesticulations volleying back and forth. The two Comms held my attention and I wanted to hear what had them arguing so vehemently though I tried not to show it lest they noticed and punished me. Even through the snapped words I knew the Comm who had yet to beat me with anything but kindness was one of the speakers, except I didn't know precisely which one. "Kyohae!" Everyone froze; it was like a blanket of silence had been dropped over the yard. Even the other Comms were silent. Both glared at one another as if the anger in their eyes would cause the other to burst into flames. "Kyohae," the not nice Comm sneered and then reached for his weapon. The ground met him harshly as he sank to his knees, a punch to the gut knocking the wind out of him. His gun never made it out of the holster.

"What are you looking at?" Comm shouted. "Eyes down, head down," broke the pall sending everyone scurrying to their places. Everyone did as commanded, the Comms in the yard walked amongst us, lashing out indiscriminately at any who seemed to move from the lines. I kept my head down, staring intently at the dirty scabs on my feet. My vision swam a little as the tiny sparkles glittered in my eyes, but I was used to it and didn't pass out like others would. It was like the tremours, the general weak feeling, and the pain, after awhile you didn't notice it much any more. Merely accepted it and moved on. Acceptance was the key to survival at least in this part of our small world. The things one could put up with, the conditions, limitations, treatment… Ija. Ija would have survived if she had just accepted anything – everything. But she kept fighting, pushing back even when there was nothing to fight against. She argued with the Comms even though it cost her a beating and a day in the boxes. At meals Ija wanted more food, even stealing bits from block mates if they were too slow in protecting what meager morsels they – we- earned. So they sent her to the other side of camp, to work. Cutting out her tongue like all the others who worked there didn't stop her for she still found ways to rebel. In the end though, it got her nothing but a piece of rope smuggled from the other side, a quick drop, and a sudden stop. Her barrack mates untied her and laid her in the yard before morning count lest they be in trouble for having the count come up one short. She was on my cart that day; I made certain she lay face up so she could see the sky – it was the least and only kindness I could give her. It was her body that was covered last.

Dex's hand wrapped around my upper arm forcing me to fall back from the line, "You and me are working together today, McKay," he spoke quietly as if passing along important secrets. I didn't respond; didn't react. I had no desire for a repeat performance of the last time he spoke to me. I could still feel the sting of the needles Hæler injected me with and the sharp bite of the rough floor into my hand and knees as I tried to catch myself after the Comms threw me into an unused room and bolted the door so I would rant in peace. The screaming didn't last too long before the injection took effect and the floor opened up to let me slip beneath it. The shock of icy water dumped by KahVey pulled me up to reality as he muttered that I smelt. Turned out I had been sedated for almost three days. Dex seemed worried when I returned but didn't approach and watched intently from afar. I did kind of miss the extra food he gave – the few extra pieces had spoiled me just a little but I was getting used to normal rations again. "You hear me, McKay?"

Lifting my head ever so slightly, my gaze caught his for just a moment and dropped. I had heard him and now he knew. He snorted – growled- but said nothing in return as we sped up to rejoin our line. It was nice to venture beyond the gates of our yard and it felt lighter somehow even though the heavy stench of death weighted downed the air. The shovel handle was warm and rough but familiar feeling to my hand, welcoming in a way like an old friend. Even the dirt path towards my pit had the same feeling, but the air was different. It had an unusual electricity coursing through making it feel 'off'. Dex could sense it too judging by his posture, tense and wary – a predator observing their intended prey. The Comms though, didn't seem to notice or if they did none overtly showed awareness. They chatted quietly amongst themselves, doling out punishment or motivation when they felt it necessary to assert their position.

Sweat dripped down my forehead, sliding in my eyes and stinging them. Wiping it away did very little, more immediately took its place. Not even midday and the sun scorched everything even the dirt freshly dug. Our thin tattered clothes clung tightly, sodden with sweat. Dex's shirt lay beneath our assigned cart, damp and discarded long ago. Others had done the same and their flesh glistened, decorated with tinges of pink burns. Even Dex with his darkened skin began to burn across his shoulders. There was no desire in me to add the ache of sunburn to my pain; let the others fight over the green-spired plants to soothe their ailments. If the leafy things could provide water then that would be a different story – if the Comms would provide water… I wouldn't be in the right place nor would it be pure, more likely the cruelest of blows the Comms could deliver. Offer water to slake our thirst and leave us to die in agony from poison, even kindness comes with a cost.

"McKay." With a clang the shovel hit the ground; his voice so unexpected startled me entirely. Quickly it was retrieved, hopefully before a Comm noticed and looked over to investigate. The beating they'd give for not working would definitely be fierce or they'd assign me to a box – today the heat of it would kill me. Glaring at Dex, I sunk the blade of the shovel into the dirt and pulled the last corpse from the cart by its foot. If it hadn't been a little child so light and lithe I wouldn't have managed on my own. In it went with the rest, sliding down the side until it lay against the others. "She's a child," Dex murmured as if surprised somehow. His eyes searched mine but I could only touch his arm and give him the only answer I knew: at least she would never know. They were quickly covered and ready for the next cartload being brought down the path.

"Hey! Hey you, KV89603!" Instantly I looked up and mistakenly looked straight into the eyes of a Comm. Without blinking he backhanded me across the cheek sending stars shooting through my vision. "Eyes down; head down."

"Yes, Comm," I replied softly. Dex glanced up at him and I stuck the shovel blade into the dirt.

"Come with me."

I nodded as he turned and walked away not bothering to see if I was following behind. Of course, I was and would be since it wasn't wise not to follow their commands and they knew it. However, very few abused that position and used it to their advantage. In the grand scheme of things, we were lucky in that regard. The few who did extend their commands weren't terrible about the tasks, at least as far as anyone knew. They seemed to keep 'requests' limited to laundry or other cleaning tasks according to the whispers of gossip around the various barracks. But, the extra tasks came with a downside: they had to be done on top of previously assigned work and provided no extra benefits, not even one morsel of food from their much rumoured well-set tables. Nor was there any information that could be shared about the camp as none of the Comms would utter more than pleasantries and idle chatter with a prisoner around. I don't know who received the benefit: the Comms for having the knowledge of what was truly going on or us for not knowing.

"Go with this Comm to the infirmary, Hæler wants to see you."

"You'll have to move fast, she wants to see you right away," the second Comm replied gruffly. The voice was familiar, it seemed to belong to the 'nice' Comm but the harsh tone was different – at least I had never heard it directed at me. "Get a move on," he growled, grabbing me by the arm tightly. But, instead of grabbing where I was already injured like most Comms would to motivate me to move faster, he made certain to avoid those areas. Except as I stumbled, startled by the revelation did he squeeze the damaged flesh as if to say "act nonchalant" and "don't screw things up". My sure steps recovered quickly and we walked away without further incident.

He led me for some distance in silence, nodding in greeting to passing Comms. As I went to turn left through one of the gates he finally spoke, "No, this way." We ventured down the middle path; the buildings growing less frequent and maintained and trees sprouting in their place. No Comm walked the road and the sounds of the work brigades faded with each step. The back of my neck prickled, nervous and in warning. Glancing about, there wasn't anywhere I could run – even if I could run. The trees were thick together and the underbrush high; even still, I could make out the occasional glimpse of fencing. So even if I did somehow manage to flee I would still be trapped and too easily caught but not pardoned. Comm grabbed both shoulders, obviously noting my reticence. "You aren't going to run away," he said, his voice no longer gruff but brooking no argument.

"No, Comm," I replied, not looking at him.

"I need you to know I'm not going to hurt you. Okay?"

How do you respond to that? Yes, I had been treated well by him so far. But, he's a Comm. 'I am not entirely without mercy.' I'd heard words like that before dressed in the dulcet tones of feigned placation and empathy. Mercy turned out to be anything but. Being brought out here didn't help his case either. Past experience weighed too heavily out of his favour. Before I knew it, the word slipped out of my mouth, "No." The inhale following got stuck in the back of my throat. I – I said 'No' to a Comm. My mind swam as potential images of what would happen fluttered and collided as desperately I tried swallowing around the lump glued to the back of my throat.

"Hey." The lump dropped heavily with a bounce in my stomach. "I will not hurt you. I swear. I need you to do exactly as I say." Both hands grasped my cheeks so we were seeing eye to eye. "We are going to the infirmary; Hæler does want you. But you have to do something for me. She tests drugs on you, correct?"

As if he didn't know. "Yes, Comm."

"Don't care how, but, steal a vial. Everything she uses you take. Pills, liquid, whatever -"

"– But -"

"No! Steal one of everything. Hide it. You have to; your life depends on it! Trust me on this," he said forcefully, flecks of spit hitting my face.

Trust me. Where had I heard that before? "Why?" I wondered, suspiciously.

"The less you know about what is happening in the infirmary the better. All you need to know is that something is not right. Hæler…" His mouth clamped shut, biting back whatever he had meant to say. "I need your trust in me -"

"- I'm sure you can earn it if you really try."

Warmth blossomed on my cheek stinging sharply. "Do as you're told," he hissed as his hand slowly dropped to his side. "Get the medicine; keep it with you at all times." He glanced at the timepiece dangling on his chest, "We've got to go."

"What if I get caught?" I asked as we turned down a path further into the woods.

"Don't." The last word he spoke to me for the rest of the walk which wasn't long. The infirmary loomed before us quickly, rising out of the trees. We must have been on one of the first roads built in the camp. KahVey was waiting on the steps as we approached with a disapproving frown on his face. "Gave me some trouble, didn't move fast enough. Had to give him some encouragement," Comm murmured seeming angry. KahVey merely tutted and pulled me inside impatiently.

He didn't speak to me but the surrounding air swirled with annoyance. I fell onto the nearest bed as he pushed me out of the way, buzzing to and fro from cabinet to cabinet. Strips of bandages and small cloths were gathered up and deposited on the bedside table. Under his breath, KahVey muttered as he puttered about. Something had his attention and his annoyance, but it was too unintelligible to know precisely what that something was. He was even less communicative than usual; during my routine visits he would direct me to sit or make some comment to me instead of speaking in irritated body language.

"KahVey!" The yell echoed down one of the side hallways and into the main room. He dropped the tray, both of us a little startled and scuttled away grumbling. Two cloth squares, some slides and pipettes and three syringes partially hidden beneath a towel glittered in the light. Even though they had been cleaned, a few flecks of brown blood decorated the edges. Some of the speckles were most likely my own among many others. None of the syringe contents emitted any colour, just fine little bubbles of air that floated to the top as I shook each one. KahVey had left the counters free of anything that could clue me in to the liquid contents. Come to think of it, few items beyond bandages, dressings, linens and the rare antiseptic even emerged from the cupboards lining the wall. Obviously, medication was kept elsewhere, but, where? So many rooms and hallways split off the primary care room that any be the medicine store. And what if it wasn't kept with the regular medicines? I certainly couldn't ask Hæler where she kept it and KahVey wouldn't tell me either… But he could show me –

"KV89603," Hæler said; I jumped as she suddenly appeared in my vision. She let out an amused chuckle at my discomfiture and then the no-nonsense expression slid over her features. "Why did you not respond just now? I called you twice."

"Sorry, Hæler. I wasn't paying attention," I offered up sheepishly.

Her lips pursed for a moment, "Does this happen often - your inattentiveness?"

"Sorry ma'am, I was thinking of other things." How could I admit that I probably had lost track of myself and my surroundings at least once if not more? It's not like she caused it, just too much thinking beyond current reality and too little attentiveness to everything else. Hæler's response was a sniff and a note on her pad before grabbing my head and tilting it to the side to expose my neck. Quickly, she stabbed a needle into the vein, depressed the plunger, withdrew it, and had the others in just as swiftly. The cloths were pressed against the wound and she left with the instructions, "Not to bleed all over the floor." With her departure the room was empty for KahVey hadn't returned either. None of the strips of bandages he had laid out had been used. Not that I could exactly tie them around my neck either, but I could use them elsewhere. It wasn't efficient but I managed to wrap my poor battered hand, wrapping and layering the pieces to afford me some protection – much better than none.

Looking around, the only Comm I could see was lying unconscious on a bed and any other patients remained cloistered behind drapes. KahVey and Hæler hadn't reappeared. Comm's directive echoed in my head. Shudders ran down my spine when I thought of what he might do if I disobeyed orders. Carefully, I strode across the floorboards, tossed a glance behind, and as there weren't any witnesses slipped quietly into the nearest hallway. It split off into three more passages. KahVey's voice trickled down the left corridor through the silence and heavy pall. What he was saying seemed garbled, but certainly he was still grumbling over whatever had aggravated him in the infirmary. Hæler had disappeared down to the right when she left, leaving me one option.

The worn boards beneath my feet thankfully didn't creak or groan as I trod them. Just my silent shadow jumping in the flickering overhead lights accompanied me. Most of the rooms were dark, any outside windows having long since been covered. The first few contained nothing but other inmates – patients. Some packed so full their drawn, sallow faces pressed against the observation glass. A woman lifted her eyes ever so slightly to glance at me. All colour had left them; her irises only the slightest bit of grey against a yellowed background and so very dull. Short little puffs of her breath clouded the glass as I stared. Slowly, her eyelids fell to the half lidded look of detachment. Perhaps she had seen me or perhaps I was nothing more but a shadow through glass. None of the others caught in passing noticed or raised their heads to look. Few even had their eyes open. The further down the corridor I went the more they blurred together. Men indistinguishable from women and one face the same as another. The glass panes grew smaller too until finally each door was only solid wood with small tags tacked upon them. If only the written characters made any sense, but they were in the language of the Comms. Smart really; help our keepers keep their secrets longer from those who shouldn't know. But I needed to know.

Taking a breath, I opened the first door, planning methodically to check each room. It smelled like must and rotting leaves; a shrunken figure curled inwards on a dingy bed. The second room didn't smell much better; it, however, was empty. Fewer lights illuminated the hallway and less penetrated into each darkened room. Each successive door had to be opened wider and wider but still I had to step into the shadows, swallow down my fear and find what lurked or lay inside. Most contained more individuals wallowing in a horrid stench and clinging to themselves. The pain they were feeling or had felt radiated off of them so strongly it was a wonder no one else sensed it. Yet, maybe they had. I hadn't seen one person that wasn't a patient, not KahVey, Hæler or her assistant come down this corridor. But then again, one didn't think about what they couldn't see.

He wasn't curled up, the thin figure lying before me. Cracking open his eyes, he blinked a few times unlike the others who hadn't noticed my intrusion. "Bu?" I froze hoping that he would think me just a hallucination. "Bu?" His voice grew louder. He knew; I had his attention. And now he wanted mine. "Bu? Bu! Bu!"

"Shut up! Shut up!" KahVey, Hæler, someone would hear – probably already heard him. Pushing the door closed, I rushed towards his bed hoping that wood would muffle the sound. But he kept emphatically speaking, growing louder with each succession.

"Bu! Bu!" His head thrashed as I tried to stifle him. Digging my fingertips into the soft skin in the sharp hollows of his cheeks silenced him slightly. A stinging tingle radiated from my hand and up the arm. He grinned as I pulled away, lips dark against stark white flesh. Thin droplets slid down over calluses and caught in the furrows and swirls etched there. "Bu! BU!"

From down the hall, Hæler starting yelling with KahVey responding back loudly. They were going to find me. "BU! BU! B-" He flailed; words and air smothered by his own pillow. His weakness, my advantage. The blows buffeting my arm barely registered while he struggled to escape. For a moment, his hands wrapped around my forearm; nails tearing at layers of skin. Frantically, he then tried clawing at the pillow but I didn't let up. The scrabbling motions grew weaker and weaker until his hands dropped to the mattress. Inside my own chest, my heart pounded erratically. After it had slowed a little did the pillow fall free of my hands. His unseeing eyes stared up at me, a shudder raced down my spine. Like his lips after biting me, a partial handprint practically glowed in contrast to the pillow case. Carefully, I lifted his head as the slow shuffle of KahVey crept through the door. Shoving the pillow beneath his head, I dropped to my knees, ignoring the pain and wiggled beneath the bed.

KahVey grumbled, "I bring you another dose in moment," as he cracked open the door. Hopefully he didn't notice the bloodstain that probably wasn't covered. But… KahVey was going to show me where the medicines were kept, even if he didn't know it yet. Sliding out, quietly, I crept to the door; peering out but not opening it further. Three doors down, he disappeared inside a lit room which happily (for me) didn't seem to be locked. It was so close the entire time. He didn't spend long there. Dirty, fetid linens and corner shadows concealed me from his view. Nothing was uttered even as the man's head lolled back as the sharp needlepoint split the flesh over the now unpulsing vein. KahVey didn't see the blood that should have bubbled up behind his retreating back.

An escaping sigh echoed loudly; a sigh unknowingly held. Perhaps Comm was right about the goings-on in the infirmary. KahVey's shuffling gait faded from earshot; carefully, I extricated myself from hiding. I didn't look back pulling the door shut. I couldn't – wouldn't. Better him than me… right? Clicking softly, the door latch slid free of its jamb with little resistance. Long shadows of tall shelves rushed out into the hall. Various colours washed over me, arraying everything in rich hues. Strange how familiar the honeyed orange and yellow, crisp green and blue seemed especially when swirling my hand through and between the projected rays – like I had basked in them before. I had to stick to my orders. The cobwebs cleared with a shake of my head. KahVey could return at any moment for supplies and then I could only hope to be dead. Up and down the aisles I searched. The room was larger than anticipated, but, the last four rows contained tray upon tray of clear vials. Many, though, weren't full only partially. Reaching for one, I stopped. Which to bring back to Comm? A half vial would probably be expected since I knew the contents were used often. If something wasn't right in the infirmary then a full vial might not be expected. Time was running out, I'd spent too much here. I had to leave. Grabbing the full one, I fled making sure to close the door behind me.

"Has there been any message from Comm Ragan?" Hæler's voice echoed around the corner. Her footsteps could be made out and were growing louder.

"No, Hæler."

The first door to my right, the room was too open; there wasn't any place to hide nor was there an exit door to escape outside. I wouldn't be able to get out without her knowing. The next door only rattled the lock, loudly. Much too loudly. Hæler's steps stopped – suddenly my throat tightened! She was going to find me! Desperately, every door was opened as quietly as I could in my haste. Too many rooms offered no safety, period. Others, I couldn't see anything and didn't know what or whom they contained.

"Why won't he answer me, the swine – I didn't mean that and don't you dare repeat it, understand?"

She was close; I glanced back. Part of her shoe appeared around the corner. My fingers grasped the cool metal of a doorknob. Her companion's foot landed. Slowly, the knob turned. I could see the grey legs of her uniform pants rounding the corner. With a soft click the bolt released letting me slip in just as they completely turned down the hall. Quietly, I panted hoping the thundering rushing pulse in my ears couldn't be heard outside of the room which appeared to be an office – Hæler's office! I wanted to let my legs give way and slide to the floor but would likely never get up again. Slowly, my fingers unclenched from around the vial. There had to be some place I could put it and not catch the Comm's or Hæler's eye. If it went under my tongue, accidentally it might be swallowed or choked on. Yet, a slight lump in my bandage wouldn't be too obvious; instead, passed off as an end or thickness in the fabric especially under the knot. Fingers shaking, the knot struggled to but finally came loose. Tugging on the layers, I managed to pull them far enough away from my palm to be able to slip two fingers under. The vial fit in easily and a few yanks of the bandages tightened against my hand.

"Get his junior to get an answer from him. Get someone." Her voice carried straight through the wood at my back. Any moment I was a dead man. Rushing around, I threw myself into the only hiding place there, under her desk. Knees to chest, air hung in my lungs, not daring to be exhaled. Hopefully, she wouldn't be stopping to do paperwork – anything that would make her see me. The doorknob jiggled and it opened. On the desktop, papers were shuffled and then there was a resounding thunk as something was dropped. She cursed as her pen rolled off the edge, hit the floor and skittered to a stop next to me. "Never you mind," she muttered under her breath. "Forget what I told you," she called out to her retreating lackey. "I will contact Ragan myself." And left with a slam of the door. My knees protested slightly as I scooted out from the desk. If my heart pounded any more it would fly right out of my chest - too many close calls for comfort. Whatever was going on, Comm needed to deal with it himself. I wasn't earning enough food to cover this insanity no matter how much extra he gave me. Never again.

Hissing as my feet impacted the earth, a quick glance showed no one witnessed my crawl out Hæler's window. Luckily, dusk covered the camp in long inky shadows – easier for me to steal through back towards the barracks without getting caught. Most Comm's didn't pay attention to the cast shadows once darkness fell; they were more concerned in getting a good seat at the dinner table. Sticking to the edges would conceal me while I could at least know what was in my path. Even better still, the lack of gates along the infirmary road; less explaining for me to do. Warm was the pavement beneath my feet, smoother and with fewer rocks than the dirt sides. The air, though, had cooled considerably and seemed to keep a chill. A very cold night it would be. Bankha – if he had lived we could have huddled together for warmth; but, another night shivering on my hard wooden slab alone. Would it be so bad? Not going back? Above, the last slivers of twilight tangled in the branches of the trees. I caught a leaf floating to the ground. Silence all around me. For once completely alone and yet without the fear usually accompanying it. It could be done; I could disappear. Just turn back down the road and take the path to the right past the infirmary. Cross over the burial grounds and then hide in the woods until the end of… whatever. I could do it; it would work and no one would ever know – except Dex. He'd notice; then a Comm will know. After they were finished with me – if they ever finished with me – blessed, death would be. No, hiding was not safe at the moment. Too many strings attached and too few ways to cut each thread. Sighing heavily, I walked on.

Slowly the gates began to come into view. Most of the Comms had gone off duty for the night thankfully. "You're late," one did say while reluctantly opening the gate. The rest of the keepers merely grunted when I asked to pass through.

"Thank you, Comm," I murmured to each one. "Thank you."

"Where have you been?" the Comm at the yard gate sneered. "Death brigade came back before dark, why didn't you?"

"Infirmary, Comm." My upturned bandaged hand held out to show him, "Hæler called for me," I said softly, staring hard at his feet.

My whole arm exploded in agony, his baton striking twice across the palm. Tears leaked down my cheeks. "I don't believe you," he growled.

Instinctively, I cradled my arm to my chest and fell to his feet. "P-Please, Comm. I was there, Comm." My forehead pressed against his dusty boots. "– not lying Comm. Believe me, please!"

Dust swirled around my face, kicked up by another Comm. "He was there." 'Nice' Comm. Quickly, I scuttled around, kneeling before him. "I took him to KahVey myself on Hæler's command." Fervently, I kissed his boots. "She must have finished early and released him. Check with her if you want."

"You outrank me so I have to accept your word." Lowering his voice, "even if I don't believe it."

"That's enough 89603," Comm said to me. "Back inside with you." His hand wrapped around my upper arm, guiding me to standing. Whispering, he said, "Nod if you got it." Ever so slightly did my head dip.

A roll snatched from the passing food servers he handed to me and closed the gate behind me loudly. Wiping the remaining tears away, I stumbled to my usual spot. Dex's massive hulk loomed nearby. At least he waited until I sat and began picking at the crust before approaching. Slowly and carefully, I chewed each piece grateful for no bugs in tonight's meal. Soup would have made it better but my side trip took too long. I would survive until morning though.

"Where'd you go?"

"To market."

He made a sound; it could have been a growl or a laugh in response. "You're fine," he said. Maybe he was the crazy one. An odd expression on his face, he rose and wandered off leaving me to eat in peace.

Little shivers tickled my skin while the cold bed warmed up. Faint puffs of air caught in the dim light for moment before the Comms locked the barrack door. Carefully slipping a finger beneath the bandages, the vial felt almost hot to the touch. But also, undamaged. Pulling my loose tattered shirt tightly around me, I closed my eyes wanting to quickly fall asleep.

Quiet creaking pulled me out of a light doze. Bleary-eyed I could see the door ajar, and then heard footsteps crossing the floor. They stopped below my bunk. Vibrations of someone climbing up the beds rippled beneath me. Fear, meanwhile, reached down my throat and into my gullet twisting my insides. They were coming for me. Suddenly, a hand clamped over my mouth. Frantically, I tried to twist away as its owner's head and shoulders appeared from below. That hand held me in place and they leaned close. The twisted mass of hair and dark features, it was Dex. He let go when I calmed bit. Tugging my right hand, "Come on, McKay," he said. "It's time to go."