I know, I know. It's been far too long since I've updated. There's been a lot going on in my life lately, so please forgive me. However, I have this new chapter for you. Honestly, it's truly just a build-up to the brutal. LOL. So, here you go, loves.

Chapter 24

It's dark. Quiet.

Lindsey and Zane's feet pounded down the sidewalk. They'd been dodging from building to building. After Jasper was plugged by arrows like a dartboard, they didn't look back. He fell right over the side of the rooftop and was dead before he hit the ground. There was nothing they could do for him. It had happened so fast. She never saw who did it and neither did Zane.

Her feet pushed, step after burning step, on the pavement in the same direction Strand had gone. Toward the college campus. Arrows had plinked around her and Zane as they ran, nearly hitting them but bouncing away. Whoever the hell was playing evil Robin Hood was a good shot. They'd gotten him in the shoulder. He clutched his shoulder around the arrow. Blood spilled between his finger. He cursed in Spanish with every step.

"Come on!" Lindsey exclaimed.

They were halfway through town, weaving back onto Main Street when suddenly every single light in town turned on. The street lamps flicked on with an electrical buzz, like lighting a runway, all the way to campus. Every single building, every window, was lit all they to and through the campus.

Lindsey blanched and spun around, her rifle clutched tightly in her hands.

"We have to keep moving," She told Zane.

"They're dead. Jasper and Grant. Fuck!" Zane was breathing hard. His shoulder still bleeding.

"And if we stop we will be too! Where the hell is Strand?!" Lindsey huffed. Running past the gates onto the campus, both of them wound around, making for a back parking lot, neither of them noticing the tall, iron gates being closed and locking them inside.

Strand had dropped his walkie a while ago and now hid between the library and the English Annex. Tall lamps, lining the sidewalks and dotting the campus, sprung to life across campus. All at once, startling him. From the lamps illuminating sidewalks to every classroom and dorm room. The town was one epicenter of light.

Strand stayed in the small path. It remained in shadow, but now he had nowhere to go. Like an animal, he was trapped.

Ryan sprang upright, shutting her eyes quickly. The bright fluorescent lighting was blinding. Troy stirred but didn't wake. Ryan looked around, letting her breathing and heart rate reach steady levels again. Out the window, she saw the lamps alight, making the grass and sidewalks glow. So were the other buildings. Every floor, every room was alight.

She inhaled in through her nose and then out, no longer half asleep but full-on alert and so tense there was no room for trembles. She looked up. Who turned on the lights? The door was still closed.

Suddenly, Troy jerked in his sleep. It wasn't much. Certainly not as bad as before. It was from thee nightmares. They all had their own nightmares. She touched his shoulder and he seemed to relax entirely.

When he stilled Ryan scooted to the end of the bed and off to slip on her boots. She looked out the window. Down below she swore she could see movement. She grabbed her blade off the dresser then turned toward the door. She hadn't locked it. There was a pinching in her gut and her heart pounded against her chest like a rock being thrown at a window.

She moved toward the door. Only a step or two away, she was suddenly grabbed by the arm and startled. Troy held a firm grip and a stern look at the door as if he could see through it and didn't like what was on the other side. His jaw was tight.

Both of their heads turned sharply as the walkie on the desk crackled with white noise. It stopped as quickly as it started.

Something had changed. Where were Grant and Strand? They would've announced themselves. Why weren't they back already?

"We see you…" It was a soft and disturbingly scratchy whisper through the walkie.

Then the screaming started. It was Sophie.

Ryan moved for the door, ready to fight whatever was on the other side and get her girl back. It was just an automatic response anymore. There was no thinking. Sophie wasn't theirs to have. Troy put his hand, flat, to the door, stopping her, then wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her back as he locked the door. Her attempt to break free was weak. She was weak and growing more so.

"I'm not leaving them out there. We have to help them," Ryan gritted out, staring at him absurdly.

There were more screams and protests, making Ryan's stomach clench. Reed and Alicia. Whoever was watching them had them now and probably had the others that were missing. Reed swore and yelled, but it became muffled as if he'd been gagged. Ryan's heart panged painfully in her chest.

"We can't help them if we get caught by whatever the fuck is out there." Troy dragged her back until his back was to the dresser. "And as far as we know, they're dead already."

Ryan's legs nearly buckled at the words and she was thankful that Troy held her. Of course, he'd be straight about how horribly sideways this just went. Didn't hurt any less or any more.

"No," she argued feebly, with heartbroken dread. She couldn't leave her brother not again.

Troy let go of her, but only long enough to open the window and look out it as if to check something. It was a clear drop. He turned and saw Ryan drifting to the door. He whipped her around and grabbed her face between his hands. His thumbs pressed into her soft cheeks chastely.

"You go out there—" Another scream followed by a heinous cackle cut through his words and made her face crumple. "and you join them. You. Will. Die."

Everything in his stark eyes was fear, but he wouldn't leave her. While she couldn't lose him again and he couldn't lose her. They had to be smart.

"Help me," he said, his slate eyes not leaving hers, but filled with concrete determination to not lose any more people.

Ryan's dark eyes darted to the door. Then they squeezed shut and she sucked in a sharp breath, and not to bite back a sob. She grabbed her chest and breathed an audible ache. The pounding of her heart made it feel like the organ would jump ship for a new body. Not good. She grabbed her chest.

Troy stepped back with wide eyes and his hands raised. Like he thought he'd done something. The panic there…and guilt. He didn't want her to hurt. He didn't want to be responsible for it.

"What's wrong?" he asked quickly.

Ryan didn't reply right away. Her mouth gaped open with silent screams. A pain that was so unbearable but she sluiced down like water unless she wanted the two of them to be caught.

"It's my heart. Its time has been up since the plantation," she ground out. Her eyes squeezed shut.

Troy cursed under his breath. Ryan knew it would be better if he just left her behind. Being bait so the others could get out wasn't such a bad idea since she was already heading south. She wasn't stupid. He was. Stupid, that is. That was one of the first things she'd noticed about him. Damn if it wasn't slightly adorable. She stood up straight finally catching her breath.

"I'm okay," she said, but just barely. Troy could see that she almost wasn't and he wasn't ready for that. He couldn't put it into words why, and wouldn't ever, but he wasn't ready to make sure she'd stay permanently dead.

A solid thud against the door made them both jump.

"We hear you in there." It came out low and gravelly and the shit nightmares were made out of. "And we're coming in."

Ryan shuddered. She turned pale and wasn't sure it was from her heart on its last mile or from the people trying to get in.

"That's not fucking creepy," she muttered sarcastically.

Troy turned back to the window and shoved the screen out. It landed on the grass and not even with much sound. Then he grabbed the mattress they'd just been sleeping on not long ago and shoved it out the window effortlessly. Turning, he offered his hand to help lift her up to the window.

Ignoring it, not purposefully, she climbed up on top of the dresser and looked out. Her vision swirled. It was only the second floor but still. A long way down.

"There's no way we don't break something upon landing," she said. Her voice didn't shake. She was so matter of fact.

Troy huffed. She was taking too long. He gave her a shove and she clumsily leaped. As he turned to jump right after, he saw her pack on the floor. The banging on the door grew louder. The wood of the door cracked. Whoever was on the other side was going to get in here any second. He swiped the pack, knowing it would be useful, and flung it over his shoulder and then jumped out the window as the door exploded off its hinges.

Reed struggled and fought as hard as he could. He got one of them but was quickly captured and his hands hog-tied as was Alicia. He couldn't keep track of it all. These people looked like they were about their ages. There were only six of them. They all bore amused looks.

For what he could see so briefly anyway. As soon as he'd been dragged from the room, there'd been hot and heavy breathing in his face. Their breath smelled disgusting, making him want to puke as it made him break a sweat.

"It's been a while since we've had visitors on campus."

Then an itchy burlap bag was shoved over his head and he went down from a hit to the back of the head. Her saw blasts of white behind his eyelids making his eyes cross as he fought and failed to remain conscious. The last thing he heard of was Sophie calling their captors a bunch of cunts. The girl has spirit and spunk, that's for sure. She definitely gained her resistance and rebellion and fight from Ryan.

Ryan barely rolled to the side onto the grass in time. Her shoulder and tailbone ached from the landing, but she didn't break anything. Troy landed on the mattress and instantly hissed and groaned. He held his shoulder as he rolled off of the mattress next to her.

Ryan saw her pack nearby and crawled over him to check its contents, hoping the jump didn't destroy anything, most particularly the lethal explosive.

"I'm fine," Troy grunted as he sat up. "Thanks…for asking."

"It's not damaged. Good," she murmured. She glanced back at him. Troy's face was crumpled in pain.

Ryan took the strap and flung the pack on her shoulder. They were both pretty lucky. When the ingredients of the bomb mixed, if they did—if they had, the two of them would've gone boom.

Troy was on his feet already. His right arm hung strangely from his body. His shoulder had been dislocated. He just held it to his side and nodded her onward with a deep grimace.

They took off running across campus, quickly. There wasn't anywhere to hide. Troy held his arms to his side, gritting his teeth tightly with every step. Ryan's head turned this way and that, searching for a place out of the light.

There were shouts and hoots not far off in the distance. They were the kind that was loud and obnoxious and looking to party, but not the kind of party anyone wanted to get caught up in. The skin-crawling kind. The kind that made Ryan's stomach roll. They couldn't get caught by these people.

"Come on," came a holler. A man. He sounded close to Reed's age. "We won't hurt you. Much. We just want to welcome you. It's been a long time since we've had visitors."

Ryan and Troy stopped behind another building. The bright hallway light shining in revealed a portrait hanging on the wall on the far side. It was of George Washington. She guessed this was the History building. Reed had told her that classes were grouped together in buildings.

"Now, don't be rude." The same voice spoke.

Ryan held her chest as it started to ache again. The path down her throat burned.

"We don't want to be nasty." They were closer than before. Ryan swallowed hard, her chest heaving with shallow breaths. "Doesn't mean we won't be."

That sounded sick. Ryan's cheeks numbed in that way they do right before puking. She didn't like imagining what he meant by that. Troy pulled her arm and they wove around the building to the library.

Right as they did they nearly ran right into somebody. Ryan nearly screamed, but it caught in her throat. Troy had lashed out, kicking the form without a second thought. Attack first. Ask questions second.

"Hey!"

Strand had his hands up, protecting his face from whatever else came next. He looked at them bewildered.

"It's me." He spoke in loud whispers. He repeated, "It's me."

More calls made Troy's head shoot up, like a predator hearing the rustle of prey. All three of them were alert and sweating fear.

"You know what? You just go ahead and stay on out here. We've got your friends to keep us company tonight. Those two girls we came across were sweeter than peach cobbler. We can't wait to get to know these ones."

Ryan shuddered. A small whimper made it past her lips, making them tremble.

Strand got to his feet and brushed his pants off. Troy stepped back, mumbling an apology. He exhaled through his nose, still holding his arm.

"What the hell happened?" Strand asked.

"We ran into a trap. That's what." Ryan said. She peeked out past him at the open campus. It was bright and eerie.

"I meant with that." Strand motioned to Troy's hurt shoulder.

"Dislocated," he said. He leaned back against the brick wall of the History building.

Strand moved to stand in front of him and reached up slowly. Troy released his hurt arm, wincing. It hung lower than his other from being disjointed. His cheeks puffed as he breathed.

"Have to be honest. I've never been happier to see you," Troy said through his teeth.

"You won't say that in a minute," Strand said. He licked his lips and then grabbed the wrist of his dislocated arm. "Think of your happy place."

Troy turned his head and looked at Ryan who bore a very faraway look. He'd never had a happy place before and wondered what a kind of place like that was like. He bet it was sunny and psychotically unstable people weren't trying to kill him.

The air in his lungs plugged as Strand pulled, twisted, and then, with a crunch and pop, pushed his arm back into its socket, fast. Troy's eyes watered briefly.

"It's going to be sore, but you'll live," Strand said.

"That's the dream, isn't it?" Troy spoke sarcastically as he rolled his shoulder. It was better than being useless.

"Strand," Ryan mumbled, looking at him now. She blanched. Her eyes were wide with dread because she already had an idea of what the answer was to the question she was about to ask. "Where's Grant?"