"We need a room," Syl said to the clerk of a small motel they stopped at when the sun was just rising over Montana. "Two beds." She felt Krit's eyes on her but he said nothing, and then the keys were being handed to her and she headed for the room, trying not to fall over before she got there. Inside were a set of twin beds, a chair, a television, and a bathroom. Syl stumbled into the nearest bed and flopped onto it, asleep almost immediately.


They moved motels every day; on the third night when she was trying to fall asleep she said to him in a whisper, "You were going to leave before." She tried to keep the tears out of her voice. "If you're still planning to, please do it when I'm awake." She heard him sigh from the other bed.

"I'm not going anywhere, Syl."

"Why not?" she asked after a long time. His shoulders tensed up.

"I don't think I need to answer that." Then she heard him roll over, and she closed her eyes to try and get to sleep.


Each day Syl checked in with a new number for Zack to call, having discarded her cell phone because it was a tactical risk. After a week, he still hadn't phoned.

"I'm so worried," Syl said, dropping into the sofa where Krit was reading. He raised his eyes to her and nodded. They'd hugged a few times, little friendly squeezes, but other than that they hadn't touched each other since the night Syl had her terrifying flashback.

"He'll call," Krit assured her. She gazed at him and wondered how he could always be so calm.

"What if it wasn't even Zack?" she asked softly. "What if one of the others broadcast that message?" He sighed.

"I don't know." His voice was gentle and he took her hand, squeezed. "But I think more than likely it was him, Syl." She managed a small smile.

"Thanks, Krit," she whispered. He shrugged, smiled, stood up.

"I'm going to take a shower."

"Okay," she said, getting to her own feet. "I'm going to get us something to eat." Krit frowned and touched her arm.

"Wait till I'm out," he said. She shot him a questioning look but nodded; he smiled, left the room. She heard the water turn on and fidgeted, bored. She wanted to get outside in the cool air. If she was fast, she'd be back before he was out, and he could say whatever he wanted to say to her then. Syl turned and left the motel, heading for the grocery store across the street. She pushed through the door and a bell rang announcing her presence.

"Can I help you?" the clerk asked, a young man about twenty-five years old with great hair and a nice smile. Syl walked over to him and smiled, looking up at him through slightly lowered lashes.

"I'm hungry," she said with a slight smirk in her voice. The man grinned and leaned toward her.

"Then you've come to the right place," he said softly. She felt his hand on hers and glanced down, feeling a shiver run down her spine at the contact of his cool skin on hers.

"It's hot in here," she whispered, raising her gaze slowly to his. His green eyes were slightly darkened and she felt her heart quicken as she looked at him.

"Yeah," he agreed, his voice rumbling slightly. "It is hot." He came around the counter, stopping in front of her. His palms stroked rough over her forearms and she raised her hands to his shoulders, running her fingers through his hair.

"What's your name?" she whispered, leaning in so their noses almost touched. He smiled and met her eyes, his breath warm and ticklish against her face.

"Tony," he breathed, touching his lips against hers. His arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer, his tongue meeting hers as he deepened the kiss. She was turned and felt her back press up against the grocer's counter, felt his body both soft and hard against hers. She could feel the heat through his clothes; her hands pulled at the hem of his shirt. Somewhere, she heard a bell ring.

"Syl!" Krit's sharp voice came from the door, alarmed. Tony pulled his lips away from hers suddenly, leaving them both breathing hard, and his eyes flew between her and Krit, who was charging over. He pulled Tony off her roughly and grabbed her arm. After she was hauled from the grocery store, enough sense returned to her to make her nauseous.

"Oh God," she whispered. She didn't want this, not with Tony or with Krit or with anyone else. But what was she going to do? Now that she and Krit as well as Tinga and Jondy had gone on the run, none of her sisters were available to hold her down until it passed. She felt like crying and struggled against Krit's tight grip, staring at the ground, clenching a fist against the desire to throw herself at him. He hauled her inside the motel and upstairs, into their room, where he slammed and locked the door, releasing her and shoving her away from him toward the opposite wall.

"Cold shower," he said, not looking at her. "Now, Syl." She nodded, realizing that must have been what he'd taken before; she wanted to ask why he hadn't said anything, but she supposed he'd been concentrating most of his energy on trying to get the hell away from her. And besides, if he had told her, she might have just attacked him and that would have been the end of them for sure. In a huge feat of self-control she stepped into the bathroom and closed the door, shedding her clothes and turning the water on icy-cold. It cooled her burning skin and she stood under it for almost an hour before she stepped out, getting dressed again, making a half-assed attempt to look undesirable though she knew that was impossible. She stepped into the living room, her eyes fixed to the floor.

"Krit," she said softly, holding the bathroom doorknob like a lifeline. No answer. Slowly she looked up; the room was completely empty. "Krit?" she asked, slightly alarmed. He'd left her? It was true she was afraid she might have a nervous breakdown if she slept with him, but she didn't want to sleep with anyone else either. Her eyes scanned the room and she saw a small box on the bedside table. She walked over, picked it up, removed the lid. Inside was a syringe filled with 350mg of liquid; her eyes widened and she stared at it for several moments.

Then she sprung into action. She found the 'do not disturb' sign and hung it on the doorknob for housekeeping, then locked the door and propped a chair against the knob for good measure. She just hoped Krit was somewhere nearby, because they weren't entirely sure they were out of the woods with Lydecker yet. She laid down on the bed and took out the syringe, pushing the air out and pulling up the sleeve of her shirt. She straightened her arm and tied it off just above her elbow, slipping the needle into her skin. She injected the liquid into her bloodstream and set the syringe back down on the bedside table. Pulling a blanket around her shoulders, she closed her eyes and waited for the sedative to take effect.


Most of it, she didn't remember, and the rest was patchy at best.

It was a field, open and grassy and calm. The sun was shining down; it was summer, not very many clouds. It was hot but not unpleasant, breezy in just the right way. She was sitting in the grass, in a small thicket of bushes, wearing camos though she didn't know why. She glanced down at herself and she was holding a semi-automatic machine gun. She frowned at it but slung it over her shoulder, listened for any sign of life. No birds, no insects, nothing.

"Syl!" Krit's face appeared beside her suddenly, similarly dressed and armed. He smiled at her. "Come see this."

"Where are we?" she asked as he took her hand, pulling her from the thicket. He turned and gave her a strange look.

"At Manticore."

"Oh." She let him lead her through the field and then he stopped and pointed at the ground. She looked down and saw a raven, dead, it's feet twisted and blood dried in a dark stain on the grass underneath it. Krit looked sad as he gazed at it.

"Bram," he said.

"It was an accident," she answered, not taking her eyes off the bird that was her brother at the same time. Finally she forced herself to tear her eyes away from the sight to look around the field. "Where are the others?"

"I don't know," he said, and shrugged. "Dead, I guess."

"Oh." Syl crouched down beside a stream and cupped her hands in the cool water, taking a drink.

"Watch out!" Krit exclaimed. "It'll malfunction." She followed his gaze and saw that her machine gun was dipping into the water, its end in the riverbank mud. She pulled it out and cleaned it with the corner of her camo jacket.

"Sorry." She straightened and glanced at him. "What are our orders?" Krit wasn't looking at her, he was staring off into the distance. He threw a distracted look back at her.

"Orders?" he asked, as though the thought that they had to do something specific had just occurred to him. "Oh, I'm supposed to find Zane."

"I thought he was dead."

"He will be, once I find him."

"Where are the others?" she asked again. Krit turned and let out an exasperated breath.

"You already killed them, Syl, you finished that part. Can't you see that?" He looked annoyed, and she opened her mouth to say that no, she couldn't, but then she glanced down at the water in the stream and it was red with blood from where she'd dipped her hands in. She looked at herself and her camos were soaked with blood as well, and now she could taste the metal-warm taste in her mouth, could feel it in smears against her cheeks.

"I don't remember," she said, calmly. She glanced at Krit. "Why did I kill them?"

"It's the mission," he said.

"Why would Lydecker-"

"No, not his," he cut her off, annoyed. "Yours. It's your own personal mission." He finally gave her his full attention and sighed, leaned against a nearby tree. "I don't know what you're waiting for with me. Want me to do Zane for you, I guess."

"I'm not going to kill you," she said, surprised. Krit laughed.

"Right," he said dryly, slinging his machine gun over his shoulder. "That's what you said to every one of them. It's getting old." He sighed. "Well, I'll do Zane for you anyway. Then you can get to me."

"And then what?" she asked. "I'll be alone." Krit shrugged.

"That's your plan, isn't it?" he asked, and the scenery suddenly shifted and they were in a room. Krit walked to the other wall, glancing at a door nearby. It was partway open and she could see up into a darkened stairwell, which she knew led to a bedroom with a rose-petal design on the quilt. She could hear soft noises coming from upstairs.

"Didn't I tell you never to open this door?" she asked, reaching over and slamming it closed. Krit grabbed it before it could hit the frame.

"What's that sound?"

"Nothing," she said, and pushed the door out of his hands and closed. "Don't go in there, Jared." It was still Krit, but he didn't seem to notice or mind the change in name.

"What's going on up there?" he asked suspiciously. Syl shook her head, glanced away.

"I can't tell you."

"Why not? I want to help you."

"I can't let you know that things like that exist. I have to take care of you, Zack said so."

"Syl, you don't have to look after me anymore. I'm not a child."

"We're all children," she whispered. Krit frowned, ran a hand through his hair. He reached for the doorknob and Syl panicked.

"Jared!" she screamed. "Stay out of the bedroom!" She kicked him and sent him slamming backward into the opposite wall, where he stared at her with dark eyes full of anger and pain. There was a crash of broken glass upstairs and then a loud thump outside. The stairs creaked and then the door opened, and Zack emerged, grown-up though he shouldn't have been for the timing of what had just happened. He looked between Krit and Syl and then sighed, reacing for Syl and stroking her hair a bit.

"Do what makes you happy," he said to her softly, pulling her into an embrace. "That's all I ever wanted for you." Syl cried into his chest for a moment and then she heard a crack and all his body weight came down hard on her. She stumbled and Zack slid to the floor in a pool of blood; she screamed loudly, whirled on Krit. His gun was still held toward Zack and he stared down at the body. Tears slipped down her cheeks and she dropped to the floor, cradling Zack's head in her arms.

"He's dead," Krit said.

"Why?" she whispered. "Why, why?"

"He was causing all your problems," he said, crouching down beside her. "You kept missing him. You got the others, but not him. I was just trying to help. You don't want him around, he's too much like Lydecker." Syl looked at him sharply.

"Zack was afraid to be Lydecker," she whispered. "He's not though. He's nothing like Lydecker."

"Syl, you don't get it-"

"You didn't know him!" she snapped, and stood up, trying to shake the sticky blood off her hands. Before he could answer the house and the sun suddenly slipped away and they were cast into darkness. Krit glanced up at the sky.

"Look at the stars," he said. She gazed up at them for a moment, and then back at Krit. He was four years old again but still nearly eye-level; she'd become younger too. "Look at them, Syl." She reached out, ran a hand along his head.

"I don't know if you know this, but everything I've ever done has been for you," she said softly. Krit looked up at her, smiled, reached out and hugged her. She held him close and watched the stars sparkle and glitter in the dark sky. Then she pulled back and said, "We'd better move out."

"I don't want to go," he said. "I want to stay out here with you."

"Just listen to me. I know what's best for you," she said, and Krit got angry. He pulled away from her violently, his lip trembling as he stared at her.

"Stop saying that, Syl, you sound like Zack!"

"Are you going to kill Zane or do I have to do it myself?" she asked firmly. Krit glared at her and ran a hand through his hair- she blinked. Older again, they both were.

"It's my responsibility," he said. "He shouldn't have done that."

"I did it," she said. "It was me."

"I don't want to hear it, Syl," he muttered, then sighed. "Are you going to tell me what you told him or do I have to torture it out of him?" Syl swallowed hard.

"I can't," she whispered.

"Syl-" Before he could say anything more, she turned away from him and ran, heard him following, ran faster. She ran and ran until she wasn't even in the field anymore, and she was getting farther and farther away-

Then she fell.

A scream ripped from her throat and her hands scrambled to grab onto something but she was falling and there was nothing and she almost threw up. Then a strong hand grabbed her wrist at the last second and she looked up into Krit's eyes.

"Hang on," he whispered, lying on his stomach on the clifftop, barely holding onto her. Her other hand came up and gripped his wrist tightly. He tried to haul her up but couldn't quite do it, so he just held on and they stayed that way.

"I love you, Krit," she whispered finally. "I've never loved anyone like I love you."

"I love you too, Syl," he answered softly. She gazed at him for a long time.

"I'm scared."

"It's okay."

"Don't let me fall."

"I won't."


Syl's eyes slowly opened and she squinted against the bright light in the room; her mouth was parched dry and she felt like her head had been hit by a sledgehammer. She let out a groan of pain and the light clicked off, relieving her slightly. Krit's face came into view a moment later, his dark eyes sympathetic. She didn't want him at all.

"Can you sit up?" he asked. She thought about that for a moment, nodded.

"I think so," she said. His hand took hers tightly and pulled, and she fought dizziness for a moment, resting against the headboard.

"What was that stuff?" she asked after she could think enough to form the words. "I had the strangest dreams..."

"A very specialized type of kedamine," he said, sitting down beside her and brushing the hair from her face. "I got it a few days ago. I knew you were due."

"That was really sweet, Krit," she said softly. This was one of only two times she'd gotten through a heat cycle without having to act on it, but she'd never tried sedatives before. Krit managed a lopsided smile and reached out to squeeze her hand.

"Well, I'm a sweet guy," he said softly. She smiled and let go of him.

"Yeah," she whispered, then cleared her throat. "I'm starving. And my head is killing me."

"Sorry about that," he said. "Most of the other drugs I could get my hands on had side effects that were worse."

"It's okay, baby brother," she assured him softly. She'd called him that quite a few times in the last little while, and he barely looked disappointed anymore. He smiled.

"Something to eat?"

"Yeah," she said. "Definitely."

"And then we'll move out," he said. "We've been here too long."

"I'll call Zack once we're on the road," she agreed. Krit nodded and stood up slowly, offering her a hand. She rose and helped him gather their things, leaving the motel room with him, incredibly glad it would be another three or four months before she'd have to deal with that again.