Disclaimer: Everyone dies. The end. I do not own Alex Rider.

Chapter 38: Exploring

"Hey, Alex." A hand shook his shoulder, waking him out of the light doze he had fallen into.

A miracle he had dozed at all. They had left the smooth roads and jostled onto something that was as rough as a washboard. Even without broken ribs, it would have been uncomfortable. But that had stopped, so… he just wanted to go back to sleep.

The hand shook him again. "Come on, I'm not dragging you in. We're here."

Wherever here was. Though the others had insisted that they were staying well within the populated region of Peru – not venturing off into the jungle or mountains – he questioned their definition of populated if the roads were anything to go by.

"Alex!" A finger poked him in the shoulder and Alex pulled away.

"'m 'wake." Alex squinted his eyes open. It was still dark out. Which meant that they hadn't gone too far. Not more than a couple of hours. He pushed himself up into a more upright position and took a look around. The van was pulled under some sort of awning and the others were already unloading. Which... their things had multiplied miraculously, since Alex could've sworn that he and Nico had flown into the country with nothing more than a backpack.

Nico leaned against the van door and surveyed him carefully. "I'm surprised you managed to sleep through that."

Alex cracked a smile, which turned into a yawn. He was tired. "The washboard road." He stretched, pleased to find that for the first time in days, that didn't hurt too much. At least, not more than all the jostling he had been through. "I thought we weren't going off-roading on this little adventure."

Nico snorted. "According to Mickey, they had bad flooding in the region a couple of years ago. Took out a lot of the main roads and well… redoing roads out here isn't exactly a high priority. And the locals have to travel somehow."

Alex peered out the door of the van, but all he saw was what looked like a painted cement wall. "Where are we, anyway?"

"Town called Chalacayo. East of Lima. We might head further into the hills in a couple of days, but Mickey assures me that it all follows this main road." He gave a wry grin. "For some designation of main road."

Alex climbed out, taking the strange blanket the old man had given him at the airport. It was cold. It wasn't his fault that they had just gone from summer to the middle of winter. He followed Nico across the gated courtyard and into whatever passed for a house in this region.

It was disappointingly cool. "No heat?" He asked.

"Not yet," Mickey squeezed past him in the hall, carrying an armload of blankets. "Gonna have to wait a bit. Or just bundle up for the time being. I think I can get it working."

Alex shared a skeptical look with Nico. They were definitely going to be in need of warmer clothing… Whoever thought that coming to South America was going to solve their problems… had obviously forgotten a few key pieces of information. Such as a weather report.

"Come on, your room is here. You're going to have to share though, as we've only got two rooms."

Alex wanted to just flop down onto the bed and sleep some more, but also knew that that would be a terrible decision. He wasn't a masochist. Besides, Jacobs was going to come hunt him down for another injection soon enough. It was the last thing he really wanted. It left him nauseous, exhausted, and in a terminally bad mood. He had to get through two more days of the treatment before he was cleared. Well... as cleared as he was going to get with no measurable way to determine whether he was weaned off the drugs or not.

Alex settled for sitting down carefully on the bed. "So who gets to share?"

"Either me or Jacobs," Nico sat down on the bed across from him. "They'll rotate through the other room depending on watch schedules." He gave Alex a careful look. "You're okay though, right?"

Right… Nico had witnessed his meltdown. His panic. His realization that this was all truly his fault. All over again. He really didn't want to talk about. "Sure, fine." He'd blame it on the drugs.

Nico opened his mouth, but was cut off by Jacobs' entrance.

Saved by Jacobs. When would he have ever been happy for that?

Jacobs set his bag down next to Alex. "Injection, then you're going to bed."

Alex warily eyed the vial of medicine he withdrew from his bag. "How'd you get that across international borders?"

Jacobs smirked. "Same way Cameron carried a knife through all the security screenings. You just need to know the tricks of the system." And well… if that didn't make the farce of airport security seem even more real.

Alex took the injection without complaint, then crawled underneath the blankets. He wasn't about to give Nico another opening to pry.

Not today. Not now.

After four days in cramped quarters, tensions were rising. There wasn't anywhere for them to really go, and there wasn't really any outside information coming in. They were adrift without any hope of news – which supposedly was for the better.

Alex was skeptical that this plan was even going to work. And other moments it seemed like this was his only hope.

They had always caught up with him. It seemed impossible to think that there might be one place on earth they didn't have agents. Hiding. Waiting.

Of course, part of Alex wondered how wise it was to come to South America, since Project PRISM had originated there. S-Unit's sketchy memories never connected Project PRISM with Peru, but… they had definitely heard about it in Venezuela and Bolivia. Their missions had never brought them to Peru, but that's not to say that there wasn't some sort of activity there as well.

He still didn't remember anything from the house fire, which as time passed on he suspected held more and more critical information. And of course, everything that he had learned so far was suspect due to Smithers. Or not-Smithers. The person he had trusted and figured was on his side – it had been a pretty harsh realization that they had had him under their thumb for months on end. They could've come for him at any moment. It had taken ages for him to figure out the code, but since then… They could have been feeding him whatever information they liked. So far though, it seemed like most of what they had given him was true… but there was no telling the fact from fiction.

It was basically how he functioned nowadays.

He had been more than happy to see the end of Jacobs' injections, not only because it was freedom, but because he actually started to feel better. He could take deeper breaths. He could sit without feeling like he needed a nap. He could pace the apartment when he was really itching to do something.

Like now.

He had started pacing nearly an hour ago and had Nico eyeing him warily from the kitchen table.

"Planning to do that all day?"

"What else is there to do?"

"Well… we did bring your coursework."

Alex snorted. Coursework. At the rate he was going, it wasn't going to matter that he had tested and passed two exams. He would never have a chance to use the information. Either he would be on the run for the rest of his life – and he'd have to find some way to safely ditch the SAS unit – or he would be caught and probably killed by his pursuers. And the second option might be the only way to get away from the SAS unit…

Unless MI6 pulled some miracle out of thin air. And given their track record he didn't exactly expect much.

"Alright, that's it," Cameron marched through the doorway and grabbed his elbow. "No. More. Pacing. We're going out. Get your jacket."

Nico perked up from his spot at the table. "You've got Jacobs' permission for that?"

"And just who is the unit leader here?" Cameron asked, before jabbing a finger in Alex's direction. "Besides, we're all going to go crazy and someone is going to end up hurt. Probably him."

Alex huffed at the implication, but wasn't going to argue against someone planning to get him out. The apartment hardly had windows – though that was probably a feature, since it helped the place stay warmer. The few windows they had were shuttered for his safety.

Nico stood up. "Alright. Get your coat kid."

"Not. A. Kid." Alex grumbled, walking back to the room. Mickey had turned up with actual jackets sometime in the past day – and someone had kicked the apartment heater into working halfway decently. Now that they weren't all freezing to death during the night, it really wasn't that bad. Just colder than it should be in the middle of August.

He headed back out to the main area to find Cameron and Nico already dressed and ready to go. Likely with some weapons on their person – though how they had found those so quickly within the country… Alex wasn't quite sure he was ready to hear that answer. Probably similar to how blasé they had been about airport security.

Cameron led the way out of the apartment and through the gate to the street. "Traveling local," he murmured in Spanish, "Stick to Spanish, pretend you're visiting the university."

Alex glanced at the street they were on. Dirt and gravel, similar to what he assumed the main road had been like coming in. It didn't look like a university town of any sort. "There's a university here?"

"Couple of towns down, but yeah," Cameron led the way down the street, toward the busier road. "They get a decent amount of foreigners there, so you won't look too out of place."

They skirted around a few groups of people, but most seemed content to ignore them. Though Alex was visibly a gringo, at least it wasn't a novelty here. Though neither Nico nor Cameron did a great job at blending in either. They were too European. The street – really, it felt more like an alley – opened out onto a larger street teaming with people.

This had to be the main road.

There were cars and vans and buses, and rickshaw like vehicles pulled by motorcycles. Each packed to the brim.

"We'll take a mototaxi to the market," Cameron said, "Once we're in, I'll give you some coins. Keep hold of it. I'll pay, but just in case you see something at the market." He flagged down one of the motorcycles and leaned down next to the window to haggle with the driver.

Alex shared a long glance with Nico, not entirely sure what he had gotten himself into. This seemed like the least secure method of traveling around – but it was also local and helped them blend in the best. Buses and cars alike careened down the road with seemingly no care for the pedestrian, and the mototaxi seemed like the safest option. Besides, Alex had no desire to be crammed onto a bus with standing room only.

Haggling complete, Cameron ushered them into the seats behind the driver and really, three grown people crammed into one was probably pushing the limits just a little bit. Alex felt something hard pressing against his thigh – likely whatever Cameron had opted for as a gun. He bet Nico had one as well, somewhere else.

If only they'd give him a gun… He was a good shot after all. But no, who would trust the 16-year-old with a gun?

The motorcycle burst into life and started to make its way through the crowds of people and other vehicles. They flew down the street at a rapid pace, dodging pedestrians and vehicles here and there. Every now and then, another mototaxi would roar to life and pass them on one side or the other. Though vehicles were clearly sticking to one side of the road, it was clear that that was only a suggestion.

Cameron pressed some coins into his hand. "The market is only open on Sundays." He practically had to shout to be heard over the noise of the motorcycle. "It's the best place to buy fresh fruits and vegetables though. Just be careful."

Alex rolled his eyes. Cameron obviously learned his Spanish in Spain. "You need to work on your accent. No one would ever think you're from Peru!"

Nico nudged him in the ribs, but really, the mototaxi was so loud, he doubted the driver could hear anything from them.

They continued to race through the streets for another fifteen minutes, hitting rough patches here and there, but that didn't really matter. This was the first time he had been outside and seen the country. It certainly wasn't what he expected.

All the tourist pictures of Peru showed lush green spaces, mountains in the background, clear blue skies. Stereotypical Machu Picchu or Lake Titicaca. Here, the skies were anything but blue, but were gray and smokey. There weren't any signs of green grass, just brown dust for ages. The hills, because that was all they were, had little for trees or shrubbery, and just looked like a desolate wasteland as far as the eye could see. It wasn't what people raved about, that was for sure.

Dust, dust, and more dust.

What country it actually felt like… well, he wasn't sure.

The streets slowly became more and more crowded, as they, Alex suspected, got closer to their destination. Why this was Cameron's choice of outing destination… he wasn't sure. The mototaxi ground to a halt, rather abruptly, at the back of a line of more mototaxis.

The driver pulled on a latch, opening the door next to Cameron. Cameron stepped up to pay the driver and Nico and Alex got out behind him.

It didn't look much like a market… Sure, there were a few shops, but nothing… impressive.

"Gracias, señor!"

Cameron nodded toward the crowds of people. "Through here."

The press of the people was really more than Alex would like. But… there wasn't the ever present feeling of someone watching him. He was just another face in the crowd.

How odd to finally feel that.

They wove through the crowd, with Nico close on Alex's heels. And finally found a break that opened into the market. And a market it was. There were colorful fruits – some of which Alex wasn't sure how to identify – and quite a few familiar ones as well. Some sellers had grains and pastas, and others had whole pieces of chicken and other assorted poultry.

Something settled in his chest. Loose and relaxing.

There was no telling how safe he actually was, but… this felt right for once. Lost in a sea of anonymity. Better than any crowds in the city.

Cameron nudged his shoulder. "See anything you like?"

There were plenty of things that caught his eye. Whether or not the five of them could make it edible… well, that was probably going to come down to Mickey's cooking skills. Or they would probably live off boiled rice.

He followed them further into the market, taking in the sights and smells.

And for once, the anxious ants that crawled his skin disappeared.

Hands. Reaching. Stretching. Catching.

He couldn't breathe.

Every inhale caught in his throat.

"Why'd you do it Alex, why?"

Jack.

"Should've let me go."

No.

He couldn't.

Not now. Please.

"You shouldn't have done this."

It's all your fault.

Your fault.

Your.

Fault.

He couldn't. Breathe.

"My dear boy! Right on time."

Smithers.

A stranger.

Imposter.

"Gave us right what we needed, my boy."

Blinding, crushing pain in his fingers.

"Shall we start with the easy questions, my boy?"

A stranger staring back at him. Uncomfortable. Untenable.

"Where are the PRISM files, hmm?"

Gone.

Gone.

Gone.

Erased.

Kaput.

A/N:Thoughts? What's going to happen next? And yes, it is a bit of a temperature shock to your system going down at that time of year. And yes, it is very depressingly grey and dusty in that area. But eventually it becomes home and you can't imagine anything else.