There was sludge in the pool. Or some sort of weird green substance that had caught Tyler's eyes as he looked down to the murky waters from the benches. Not something he wanted to investigate, nor somethign he really cared about, but the pool was the only safe place for him to sneak a cigarette. Anywhere else and Tricia would catch him for sure.

He'd never hear the end of it.

Another drag, and Tyler sat back, watching the tiny puff of smoke saunter through the area before disappearing from sight.

There was the sound of a door opening, and Tyler instinctually tossed his cigarette to the floor and snuffed it underneath his boot. He didn't turn to who had entered, but only listened, as footsteps approached him and then stopped right beside him. It was Curtis, and the old preacher took a seat on the bench a few feet away from the young biker.

Curt's eyes caught the destroyed cigarette on the floor, "Those things will kill you know."

"Believe me father, If I get killed, It aint going to be from one lousy cigarette."

Curtis mimicked Tyler's action and propped his own legs up on the opposing bench before speaking again, "I know what you're thinking of doing... what you have planned."

"....yeah."

"Tyler, I know Madison was like a sister to you but, killing Billy isn't going to solve anything."

"No, but it sure as hell will feel good," Tyler propped his elbows back on the bench behind him, "The last thing I told her parents before they died, was they'd out watch out for their daughter."

The preacher sighed and hooked his fingers together in a triangle, "You know I saw a change in you since all this happened, since you met Tricia."

"Yeah."

"A good change, don't screw it all up."

"You forget where we are Curtis. The normal rules don't apply anymore."

Curtis sighed and shook his head pitifully, "Tricia still doesn't know about your past and she doesn't have to. Remember when you first came to me, remember what you were like back then? You were the spitting image of that Eric fellow, but now you've matured." Curtis stood up from the benches, ready to leave since there was nothing else left to say, "Try and keep it that way son."

More footsteps, and Tyler didn't have to turn sideways to know that Curtis was leaving. A creak of a door, and the preacher was gone.

Tyler let his mind wander over everything he'd just heard in the last minute or so. It bothered him that those same words had struck some kind of emotional chord in him.

But it won't make any difference.....

Tyler grabbed another cigarette from his jacket pocket and struck a match to it.

----------------------

"And yeah, this was my dad's bike. I never did get my license but I used to steal this bike from the garage almost every night," said Tyler, holding up a picture of his motorcycle. It was the only photograph he still had in his possession.

He and Tricia were in the rec room. They made sure everyday to reserve some time for each other when they weren't to busy planning survival strategies with the rest of the group.

"I used to head out to bars with my friends, either that or cruise around causing whatever kind of trouble I could."

"Wow," replied Tricia, "I used to think stealing a few coins ot of my mom's purse was rebellious enough."

Tyler grinned and put the photo away, taking Tricia's hands in his as he planted a soft kiss on her lips.

Time seemed to move so slow when they were together, as if there were no monsters, no psychos, no dead bodies, only he and her. And nothing else mattered.

"You know," said Tricia, "I feel like I've known forever but.... I don't really know anything about the old you. Your past, it's all one big mystery."

"You wouldn't want to know the old me, I wasn't a very pleasant guy to be around."

"I don't believe that."

Tyler sighed and leaned back on the couch. Tricia leaned back with him. He didn't like where the conversation was going.

"Look, I was just a screwed up teenager. A high school drop out. I did some things that I regret. But, that's all over with. Just know you can trust me."

Tricia looked him over for a few seconds. She could tell there was something he definitely didn't want to talk about, but she also knew there was no sense in haggling him, "I trust you," she said quietly.

------------------

Night time again. There were wet footsteps on the floor. A long, slippery line of prints extending across the floor of the corridor, forming a sort of silvery wet trail. And Tyler knew exactly what was at the end of that trail.

His footfalls echoed loudly through the corridor, the sound of each step bouncing back and forth between the walls on either side of him. He could hear whispers from up ahead, but most of it was drowned out by the thudding rainstorm outside.

He wasnt bothering to be stealthy, wasn't bothering to hide his movements. He moved with deliberate stride and purpose, and there was nothing that could stop him, not even Tricia herself.

Soon he was at the end of the footstep trail. It led him into a room, a room he'd never been in before. This particular room was tiny and cramped and filled with carvings and weird drawings, which covered ever nook and cranny.

Inside, there was only a bed with crumpled sheets, a barred window, and a sink with the tap still running. Every second or so, a single bead of water would fall down to the drain in a repetitive motion.

Drip....... Drip..... .Drip....

And beside the sink, sitting there on the floor, soaked from the rain outside, was Billy. The stocky soldier was shivering forcibly and mumbling something incoherently to himself.

Tyler's eyes narrowed and he shook his head pitifully, "You're an embarassment Billy."

Billy only laughed in response.

"How long have you been here?" asked Tyler

"About an hour, given me a lot of time to think you know."

Tyler dug his hands into his jeans pockets and walked through the room, stopping to take a seat on the bed. Billy was now sitting only a couple of feet in front of him.

"I didn't mean to kill Madison, it was a mistake. I.... I just lost control." Billy followed-up that sentence with a series of violent coughs.

"But you've killed people before."

"Yes.... haven't you?"

Tyler's eyes went cold and he nodded slowly in response, "Yes."

The young biker's hands emerged from his pockets only now the right hand was twirling his favoured butterfly knife. Billy saw the weapon but didn't bother getting up to move.

"Do you know what it's like to be laughed at all your life, to spend every night lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling and fearing what the next day brings."

Tyler didn't reply.

Billy laughed again, "I did a bad bad thing"

"What?"

"I Heard the radio transmission, I heard about the choppers coming, so I," Billy stopped to chuckle, "I planted bombs all over the compounds and main base. Your sitting right beside the detonator," Billy pointed to the device on the bed just a few inches from where Tyler was.

"So what now Billy, why did you come back?"

"I don't know. I was planning on setting them off, but I'm too tired now, and I'm sick. Sick of all this shit. For once, I just want it to be over," Billy coughed again, even harder than the last time.

It wasn't a normal cough. The man had probably caught pneumonia, thought Tyler.

"I don't have anything left to finish what I had planned. I'm tired now. It's funny, you never see things clearly until right at the very end," Billy tried to keep control of his shivering but it was no use, "Maybe I want to be saved."

Tyler stood up off the bed, tired of sitting and listening now. The butterfly knife was no longer twirling between his fingers, though his grip remained fasteneded to the handle.

"You know Tyler, you've got the same eyes as I do."

There was a flash of white light. The butterfly knife had come down in a swift arc, a slashing motion, followed by a spray of blood.

Billy never even had a chance to scream before the end came.

So then it was over.

Billy's body fell to the ground right by Tyler's feet. Some of the soldier's blood had gotten onto his shirt, but Tyler didn't care. Slowly, he dropped the butterfly knife to the floor and also moved to grab the detonator off the bed, which he carefully placed in his pocket. When he was all done, he turned away from the corpse, ready to leave the room.

Tyler's green eyes went to the doorway and grew wide with the surprise at that sight that greeted him there.

Tricia Miller, his Tricia, stood at the entrance, with a look of sheer terror on her delicate features.