A/N:

Hey guys. I have no idea how I made this happen. It's about a thousand words shorter than normal, but I'm genuinely surprised at how much I was able to type. A little update on my life: I've been promoted to Managing Editor-Print of the college newspaper, and it looks like I'm going to be a freelancer for the local newspaper, so that's pretty neat.

A good hour or so writing this was to thunderstorm/wind sounds, which now that I've discovered, are pretty amazing. You should check them out if you ever need something to sleep/study/concentrate to.

Thanks for all of your reviews/faves/follows! Your support is my sustenance.

The clouds had rolled in by the droves not three hours after finding the sign. Kid Win's face was in an ongoing battle between smiling and suppressing said smile. His mood was light enough that he engaged Miss Militia in some light conversation, her own face soft from the healing wound on her forehead. It was closing lightly, probably wouldn't scar.

I could almost believe things were starting to look up for us.

But something deep within me, something deep and instinctual told me that this newfound hope was a farce. I knew what I had seen two days before, and it wasn't anything I'd seen on Earth Bet.

So, what? Were we on Earth Aleph? I knew that world had some urban legends like Bigfoot and the Loch Ness Monster, but nothing covered a tumor-like frog with baby faces poking out of the sides.

Could use Tattletale about now. It wasn't the first time I missed my team, and it damn sure wouldn't be the last.

"…soap, we'll finally be able to shower. I don't think I've ever been more eager to bathe," Kid Win was saying. I had a cricket placed between his gauntlets. Miss Militia said something in return, caught my eye and nodded ever so slightly. Surprised, I returned it.

"It was okay as a movie, but the book was better in my opinion," Weld said, apropos of nothing.

"Huh?" I said brilliantly.

"'Charlie and the Chocolate Factory,'" Weld replied. "The book was actually published on our Earth, too. 1964. There was an older version of the movie in 1971, but I only saw the more recent one from Aleph."

Oh. He was continuing our conversation from before, with the berries and the blueberry girl.

"I think I remember seeing the book as a kid," I said, thinking back. Now that he mentioned it, I vaguely remembered seeing the book in my elementary school library. I had never read it, and from his description I regretted nothing. "You like to read?"

"From time to time," he replied with a frown.

Great. The one person willing talk to me, and I've already offended him.

"I was a reader myself," I added, hoping the information would satisfy the 'trade'. Speaking with Weld was proving to be one large transaction. The conversations followed the saying 'an eye for an eye', and I respected that. But I wasn't sure how I felt about sharing so much of my personal life.

Granted, most of the important bits were already circulating the news back home. What I was sharing now was inconsequential compared to that.

"Was?" Weld asked.

I shrugged. "Am. There hasn't been much downtime in past months. I don't even know what I'd read."

My bugs sensed a shift in the wind above. A cool breeze was picking up.

"I can agree with that," he said. "What I've seen in just the last month is enough to beat down any of my old horror novels."

Miss Militia and Kid Win were still lightly conversing in front, but Vista and Clockblocker quietly followed us. In more than one way.

Weld carried on, either not noticing or caring. "I used to love 'The Fog', but now…"

I knew what he was referencing. The novel by James Herbert where a deadly, homicidal/suicidal-inducing fog envelops its victims. I remembered my mom assigning it to her literature class for an analysis behind the symbolism of the fog and its potential representation of the darker sides of society.

I could see how certain events would ruin the book.

"But like you said, there hasn't been much time to read lately. I've had to make do with the occasional audio book, or a song or two between moving around," he continued. "Such is the price for change."

In front, Miss Militia adjusted her belt. "Do you think there'll be any resident tinkers?" Kid Win asked her.

The wind reached us as I mulled over his words, and gooseflesh rose on my arms. The sun was cloaked by the clouds still rolling in.

"Yeah," I said. "It comes down to what you're willing to fight for, and nothing's cheap. There's always some sort of sacrifice."

Weld nodded, and our impromptu conversation ended. I wanted to ask what that was all about, but refrained. Silence was golden, especially when it made it look like you actually knew what you were doing.

A drop of something wet splashed on my arm. Startled, I looked at Weld and saw water droplets slowly collecting on his body.

It was raining? But it had been sunny not five minutes ago.

As if in petty retaliation against the thought, the heavens opened up and dumped buckets of water with newfound passion.

Someone cursed, and Miss Militia's weapon switched to a tiny sheathed dagger on her hip. I ducked my head. Shit. I was barely clothed. My silk sleeves were little more than halfway up my forearm.

I shivered against the sudden onslaught of rain as it pounded harder on my skin, bouncing off in little splashes. Weld was producing an interesting array of light tings and clanks as the water rebounded off him at different angles.

We hurried into the trees for some semblance of shelter. "Stay in file!" Miss Militia shouted over the downpour.

I could hardly see at this point. What had once been a clear, blue sky was now resembling a can of gray paint. The only time it had rained this badly was when Leviathan arrived.

Weld peeled bark from the trees as I donned my mask. Vista huddled under the makeshift board for our herbs, Clockblocker freezing it in place.

"You can't make an umbrella?" I asked Miss Militia. "I mean, I get it isn't a conventional weapon, but I could definitely use it as one."

She wrapped one of our cooked rabbits up in leaves, not pausing as she answered, "No. Believe me, I've tried."

I frowned, but Weld returned with the bark peels. They were slightly heavy and not nearly as manageable as an umbrella, but it was better than nothing.

"I'll take that off your hands," Weld said, gesturing to my bowlsket filled with our herbs.

Guess he didn't need to worry about rusting. I handed it over gladly in exchange.

Though my vision was improved with my lens, I couldn't make out his face as the rain rushed over them. My bugs were being pounded by the droplets. The closest ones swarmed to me, tucking themselves into the folds of my clothes.

"We're sticking to the trees for now! Stay together!" Miss Militia shouted back to us. I gave her a thumbs up, and we plodded along, gritted teeth, silent mouths.

There was no room for discussion above the noise. The rain came at all sides, disregarding our makeshift covers. Rain drops were reaching places that shouldn't be reached.

The ground was swiftly reduced to a mudslide in less than five minutes.

I was thoroughly soaked, and so were my bugs. I had my surviving fliers in the burrows of trees. The only life thriving in the storm were worms and larvae, and a few dogged beetles rapidly disappearing.

My legs were covered in mud, arms as well, though I had no recollection of when that happened. I shivered, teeth chattering. We couldn't do this much longer.

There was a wet, gritty sound as Kid Win sunk into the ground. "Fuck," he hissed. He struggled to right himself, his left foot sunk in the mud and the ground refusing to hold up his other. Weld stabbed his way over with elongated legs, having been the first to sink into the mud.

"We need to get out of this rain!" Clockblocker yelled from the back. Beside him, Vista's front resembled the ground below our feet.

"Skitter, can you sense anything?" Miss Militia called.

"Give me a minute!" I stretched out my worms. They only registered more water, and any hidey-holes we found would be drowned by the time we reached them. No caves in reach.

We needed to get to the other side of the river, currents be damned. I was about to respond with my finds when something vibrated.

"Fuck. We need to run!" I shouted, startling everyone. "Mudslide!"

That's what it looked like to be, at least. Something large enough to shake the ground was pounding its way towards us, and with the terrain we'd hiked over in the past few days, I was willing to bet my money on another slide.

"What?" Clockblocker had begun to say, but Miss Militia cut in.

"How close?" She advanced, and I could see her veins standing out against the thinner flesh below her eyes.

"Enough," I breathed.

I wasn't an expert on mudslides, but I knew we weren't going to last if we remained in this spot. We needed to get as far away as possible.

As a collective person we turned to face the river through the trees. It had flooded up its banks and was building into a rapid by the second. The ground at our feet had at least an inch of water streaming over it.

I had to give them credit. Maybe it was because I'd be as screwed as them if I were wrong, or that we were just as screwed either way. But no one argued as we stumbled to the tree line, breaking free just as a bolt of lightning lit up the sky.

I tossed my bark slab to Clockblocker, but he swatted it away.

You pick now of all times for a fight? "Clockblocker!" I shouted, but he shook his head.

"There's no telling how long my power will last!" he replied.

That's right. And barring Weld, none of us could survive a fall in that current.

Every bug I had safely hidden away erupted in a black cloud raining silk. Once one end was wrapped around several trees on our side, I had the rapidly receding cloud ferry the silk to the other end of the river. Only several hundred bugs remained once the line was secure.

Miss Militia tested the line by leaning her entire weight on it, noting how the height didn't budge. "Alright! We're taking turns. Weld, you're the ferry! Vista, you're with me!"

He nodded, tossing me my bowlsket and stepping into the river. Despite his added height, the water came up to his mid-thigh.

Miss Militia crouched low for Vista to climb on her back, and once the girl's arms were wrapped tightly around her shoulders I stepped forward with one of my silk sleeves. I couldn't place the look Vista gave me as I tied her hands together at the wrist, but Miss Militia didn't object.

Once I was finished, she stepped into the water with both hands gripping the line, Weld holding one hand over hers. It was slow work, and I clenched my fists. We were losing time.

Miles away, the first river had overflowed as well, except it was a good thirty feet above our elevation with gained momentum. I could feel the vibrations through my bugs. It wasn't in my range yet, but we only had a minute or two at most until it came crashing over us. I was leaning towards a minute as another lightning bolt lit up the sky, this time closer than before. We had yet to face the eye of the storm.

Towards the end of the crossing, it was touch and go when Weld disappeared beneath the water for a millisecond, the sand below him presumably swept away. His head bobbed up with the next wave, and I released a breath I hadn't known I'd been holding.

With Miss Militia and Vista safely on the other side, their forms blurry amidst the curtain of rain, Weld began to wade back.

"You're next!" Clockblocker shouted, looking past me. I could barely make out his words without my swarm, but somehow Kid Win heard and shook his head vigorously.

"No. They need you over there more than me right now." His mouth was set in a hard line. "Don't be stupid."

"Kid, don't fight me on this!" Lightning flashed across the sky in synch with Clockblocker's words, a scar of white across the blackened sky, clouds festering like oozing sores. Weld reached the bank and waited expectantly, waves rolling over his body.

Kid Win shook his head once more. "Seriously, I'll go after you!"

I heard a rumble in the distance.

"Hell, I'll go-" I interrupted, but then Weld's arm snaked around Clockblocker's waist and yanked him into the water.

The boy grunted in surprise but let himself be manhandled through the water, belatedly grasping the cord of spider silk once he adjusted to the current.

Kid Win rubbed his hands together, fidgeting. Water streamed down his armor, and his hair was plastered to his forehead like a second skin. Why hadn't he removed his armor?

I debated speaking to him, but I didn't know what I'd say. Offer some consolation? Reassurance? The topic of weather had never been more appropriate, I thought dryly.

By the time Weld returned, the river was up to his head though he stood on the bank. He slowly rose from the water, his shoulders looking a little smaller than normal. Converting mass to his lower body for a stronger base.

Kid Win clutched the spider silk with both hands, easing himself into the river. Weld had him by the shoulders and was just about to lead him away when the majority of my bugs wiped out at the border of my range.

The mudslide would be upon us in seconds.

"Wait!"

With my line in both hands, I dropped into the river and was almost swept away. My mind dropped into white fuzz at the chill, and I almost let go in shock. Weld was there within the second, grabbing my wrist while switching his grip on Kid Win to the forearm.

He yelled, but I couldn't make out his words over the rush of water. Instead I screamed back, "Run!"

Over the din of the river and thunder, the static in my ears and the pounding of raindrops, a great roar sounded through the trees.

Weld's eyes widened, and my arm almost tore from its socket as he yanked me and Kid Win along. My legs thrashed uselessly behind me, trying to help move us along. I coughed as water poured up my nose and stopped my efforts, allowing myself to be dragged like a rag doll.

It was a fight to keep my head above water despite keeping one hand on the line. Kid Win had the same problem. He sputtered a mouthful of water as another wave rushed over his head.

Weld carved through without stopping. His grip on my wrist was bruising. Kid Win was dunked back under, this time without having the chance to take a breath, and with my mind made up I let go of the line.

I had expected it, but the sheer force of the water was enough to leave me disoriented for a second. But without giving myself the chance to be swallowed up by it, I grasped blindly with my hand. Smooth metal grazed my fingertips but darted out of reach before I could get a better grip. Damn.

Something hard grazed past my side, and a bit of air squeezed past my lips when I tried to suppress a gasp. Trees had begun to collapse in the river and were now sailing past us.

I stretched my neck to the surface and gained a brief reprieve before I was forced back under, but I found Kid Win's hand on the first try. I clutched it tightly and pulled, using Weld's grip on my own wrist to leverage us up.

Despite the armor, he weighed no more than an ordinary teenage boy, if a little heavier accounting for the extra weight. Tinkertech.

But this was still a teenage boy in a rapid, and the effort left my muscles burning in strain. Air bubbles funneled out of my mouth but I continued to lift. I was helped along as Kid Win slowly came aware of what I was trying to do, and together we reached blindly above surface.

I was knocked to the side as another branch crashed into me. Kid Win was pulled along with the movement, and Weld tilted back as at least three hundred pounds fought against him. There was a moment I feared all three of us were going to be swept away, but he recovered.

Our hands finally brushed the string, and in an awkward half fold of our wrists we managed to anchor ourselves, pulling up with combined effort while Weld pulled in front.

I coughed, heaving large gulps of air into my mouth while Kid Win did the same. I inhaled almost as much water as I did air, and I could swear my lungs were halfway up my throat, but at least I could breathe.

I didn't have much time for anything else.

The bugs I had left in the burrows of trees were blotted out of existence. The slide had reached us.

Above us, the sky had darkened in the few seconds we'd been under. I couldn't see past a few feet in front of me, but the worms on the other side of the river registered movement as Miss Militia and Vista ran. Clockblocker stayed behind.

Kid Win flew overhead with the pull of Weld's arm, and the boy went sailing through the air. Weld yanked me forwards to repeat the maneuver but didn't get the chance.

Mounds of earth railed over us.

May 15th

The constant beep of hundreds of out-of-synch heart monitors and the clamor of thousands of voices were as loud and clear as thoughts, but all that reached me was the sound of rain.

Under a roof and out of the fight, I became aware of the lesser sensations underneath the pall of adrenaline and fear.

I was thirsty. My eyes felt curiously dry, and I blinked when they started to cloud over once more. The smell of blood and brine wafted from my body. Turning my face to the side didn't help.

What also didn't help was the fact that I didn't know a thing of what was happening. The shackle weighing down my arm was reminder enough. The lack of sensation in my lower extremities was, too.

I sighed through my nose. The nurse was long gone with the offer of a phone call, and none of the Undersiders were in the hospital to my knowledge. I'd basically told Tattletale that my leave was a done deal, but they were still my friends. Even if I was still a little torn over what the next step was.

Hell, if there were even a next step. I mean, I had to go somewhere after this, but without knowing if my dad was alive while I was shackled to a hospital bed made the future as bleak as a funeral covering.

I hadn't even said goodbye when I left. I'd only left a note.

I banished those thoughts completely once the dryness in my eyes became a little too apparent. There was nothing I could do now but wait.

I closed my eyes and called a horde of cockroaches to me, their resilient bodies dropping from the vent over my bed. I could always count on the little guys to stick around.

After a one-sided match of Janga and a few pyramids later, a voice startled me from reverie.

"You're creepy, you know."

I cracked one eye open and found Panacea at the curtain of my 'room', a PRT officer flanking her side.

"A matter of perspective," I replied, opening both eyes. She came to the foot of the bed, frowning in consideration.

"I wouldn't say that," she said. Her face was like a distorted yin and yang, a mix of too pale skin and dark circles painting her eyes. She was silent for a moment, and a scream for a doctor rang out from the room next to us.

She didn't pay heed to it, not so much as blink, and I found the reaction disturbing. I didn't want to place bugs near an injured person in case of infection, but from the splatters on the floor they were vomiting blood.

"You're not going to help with that?" I asked.

She shrugged. "They've got it covered."

A doctor pushed aside the curtain and got to work. The compressions were clearly audible.

Panacea stepped around my bed, coming to the side so as to peer down at me. "I need your permission to touch you."

"What?"

"Liability reasons. Someone overheard you say you've got a broken back. There could be other complications, and that takes people, time, equipment and money that the people in charge of this hospital are reluctant to spare at a time like this. You could refuse to let me touch you, make the hospital give you the X-rays and MRI, get months or years of treatment paid for by the Preservation Act, all under oppressive confidentiality agreements that could cost the hospital millions. It's an option, but the treatment wouldn't be as fast, good or effective as it would if I used my power. You'd be shooting yourself in the foot for the sake of being stubborn."

I opened my mouth to speak, but the words died in my mouth. She manipulated biology upon touch. The map of an organism's inner structure was laid bare to her with little more than the press of a finger.

She would learn about my scars.

Did I want to risk it? She was an enemy, had an obvious vendetta against me by the way she glowered. Just one touch and I'd be at her mercy.

But without it, I faced a life of paralysis. That brought with it a whole other type of baggage.

"Just decide so I can move on to other patients," she said.

"Do you just want me to decide so you can disfigure me sooner? What was it you said at the bank? Make me horribly obese, give me stage five cancer?"

She shrugged. "I guess you're going to have to trust me. Besides," she said, lowering her voice from the PRT officer that remained in the corner. "You said some things as well."

I did? The memory came back to me. I did.

It was as we were making a break for it, Glory Girl writhing on the ground while Panacea laid on the ground, unconscious.

At least, I had thought she was. Because if she was talking about what I thought she was, I had hesitated a moment, Tattletale leaning on my arm, and said, "A secret is worth keeping if it keeps families together."

Not exactly Hallmark, but it was the truth.

"Is it a yes or a no? Make up your mind," Panacea said, a touch of impatience to her voice.

"Yes. Please use your power."

She waved away the PRT officer who left without a word. I squeezed my eyes shut, grimacing behind my mask. Whatever the consequences would be, I'd face them head on.

Her fingers trailed around my neck for a moment till I directed her to the seam, and I waited for her reaction.

At first there was nothing. Then she blinked. "That's not from Leviathan."

That's it? I thought incredulously.

She was silent for a moment, and the pain disappeared completely. It wasn't near as much as normal, but the feeling that rushed into my legs made me gasp. My broken arm felt a deep pressure building from the inside, not painful, but not pleasant either.

"The scars are completely healed. Both the glandular and fatty tissues were removed. No cancers I can find, though you are- were predisposed to breast cancer. All breast tissue is gone. Some people have theirs removed as a preventative measure. But this wasn't that."

I heard the words as though from afar. Like an ocean sat atop of me, no air to breathe, no light.

"The two… incisions down your chest are wide and deep enough to require stitches, but there's no sign of them. The tiny strips taken off your back-"

"Taken?" I interrupted hoarsely.

"-have an almost strategic placement. The way they layer up towards the middle of your spine- it's odd."

She eyed me curiously, one hand on my throat. "This wasn't done by an average human. You'd be dead. The amount of blood loss coupled with infection would kill anyone, especially someone of your weight and size. The scars are all wrong, too. All of them have the same age, but the deeper lacerations are completely healed. That shouldn't be possible. And they should be restrictive, but they're not."

"Sometimes they are," I found myself saying. How was I talking to Panacea about this? Was this really happening?

"No, they're not. That's all in your head, probably some ingrained reaction to moments of stress or anxiety, possibly any emotionally-intense situation." She paused. "Your heartbeat is off the charts. I wonder, do you feel it now?"

I only now registered the racing beat of the heart monitor as my own. I took a few deep breaths, ignoring the pull across my chest.

"Although I'm curious as to how you survived, I don't really care." The tone of her voice changed. "You have a microfracture in your left shoulder with nerve damage to the hand. Reduced fine dexterity. There's some brain damage that hasn't fully healed as well. I'm not healing any of that."

I didn't answer, and she added, "I'm not growing them back for you, either."

I saw a flash of red. "That's fine," I gritted out. "Just heal my back and arm."

"Mmm. I can feel your emotions. You're angry."

"Damn right- Ow."

"That happens when my concentration slips. Best if you stay quiet."

My wounds knitted themselves back together. I could feel my muscles relaxing, but my heart hadn't slowed down.

There was no guarantee that she would tell me honestly, but I had to try. "You're not going to tell anyone, are you?" My voice crawled forward in a husk.

"What-" she broke off, then looked at me with newfound intensity. "Is that why you said what you did at the bank?"

"Patient confidentiality," I whispered. When did my mouth get so dry? "There's laws about it."

Panacea regarded me for a moment, then retracted her hand. All of my smaller nicks and bruises, torn muscles and ligaments were gone as well. I was good as new.

"Armsmaster, Miss Militia and Legend want me to keep you lucid," she replied abruptly, completely disregarding my question. "Apparently they have something of the utmost importance to speak to you about."

"Hey, you didn't answer my question."

"I don't know what they have to say to you, but I could take a guess," she said, pointedly ignoring my words in favor of glancing towards my manacle. I could care less about that now.

"Amy-"

Suddenly her face was inches away from my own. "You don't get to say my name," she snarled. "It doesn't feel so great now, does it? You've obviously had your fair share of physical warfare, but mentally? This isn't a hundredth of the mind-fuckery your teammate put me through."

"That wasn't-"

"Wasn't you?" She laughed, the sound as brittle as breaking glass. "Good luck with Armsmaster. I have others to help."

She left.

There was a sound.

It was a male's voice, young but mature, a bit odd sounding. There was a distinct edge to it that after a moment marked itself as an accent. Boston.

"Skitter!"

I groaned in response, jolting into consciousness. I felt like I had been dipped in chocolate and left in the freezer. The shivers raking down my spine did nothing except reveal that a vice grip encompassed my whole body.

"I need you to hold yourself up," Weld said.

Hold myself up? My legs felt as solid as ever, but my upper half was supported by a wall. Using my hands to push off the wall, I was able to maneuver myself forward. I lifted my arm with a bit of effort and wiped off my lenses, leaving brown streaks.

I couldn't begin to describe what I saw.

Warzone.

All that had been hiding the view, sheltering us from the sun, was gone. The ground was made up of mud and broken wood. Only a few trees remained standing, leaning atop one another like firewood. The loose earth rose the terrain at least ten feet where we stood, growing in height further away. We had been caught in the last dregs of it.

The rain was coming down in a heavy drizzle, but nowhere near the intensity of what it had been before. I barely felt the pressure of it in comparison.

"Can you feel your legs?"

Weld stabbed his way around me, looking me over. For a brief second I only registered cold, and I almost panicked, the memory of the hospital fresh in my mind. But my toes wiggled in response, and I deflated in relief.

"Yeah. I-" My lower body was encased in the mud. An experimental wiggle did absolutely nothing. "I can't move," I said.

His arms were below the dirt, and I waited as he slowly circled me once more, shifting the mud around to slowly loosen its grip. To bide the time, I searched out with my power and found a disappointingly small amount of useful bugs. The ones I had hidden away were destroyed by the mudslide, and the cockroaches that unsurprisingly survived were caked in mud, crawling to the surface at a snail's pace.

A large pine was lodged into the mud below, and my worms climbed around it to find a small pocket of air, mud sliding into its place.

Judging from both of our appearances, I'd say we had been under there a minute ago.

The worms and larvae on the other side of the river- our side, now- registered Miss Militia running back our way, Vista on her back.

Where are the other two?

I found them fifteen yards away sealed in mud.

"Weld, to your left. Clockblocker and Kid Win." I pointed down, marking the spot with a circle of breaching worms. His eyes widening, Weld carved his way through and disappeared into the muck below.

He appeared not a moment later and began the process of shoveling them out, revealing their frozen figures five feet under, Kid Win soaring through the air with Clockblocker's hand on his chest. They looked like a sculpture of the cape-themed ice skaters on Broadway.

Weld tucked his hands underneath my arms and tugged, the earth releasing me with a wet squelch. After he lead us to where the ground flattened out and set me down, I took a few steps and fell to my knees.

I lifted up my mask, not caring to look at my mud-encased hands, and spat on the ground. I had swallowed dirt. I spat once more for good measure.

The river was stretched now, streaming past the blockage so it flooded the bordering land. It came up to my elbows where I knelt, murky brown water washing away the mud.

I bent over to quickly rub the mud out of my hair, taking a moment to inwardly despair over its poor state. The last thing I wanted was to cut it, but it had started to accumulate knots that my fingers couldn't comb out on their own.

It didn't take long for Miss Militia to reach us. Kid Win and Clockblocker returned to reality with a crash. Their landing splashed us with mud.

Miss Militia didn't bother wiping the spray of dirt off her cheek, instead returning my silk sleeve.

"Are both of you alright?" she asked. Vista hopped off her back, stabled herself and went to the boys.

As far as I knew, nothing was broken. If I had any cuts or bruises, there was no way to tell past the layers of mud caking my skin. A look at Weld proved he was semi-human looking, shrinking back to his usual height, so he was fine.

I nodded. "A little banged up, but ready to go."

Weld repeated the gesture.

She didn't move, and looked as though she were choosing her next words carefully.

I had the awful thought that my pants were missing, having gotten sucked into the earth when Weld lifted me out. But then something in her face shifted, and she said, "You did good with that call, Skitter."

I shrugged. I did, but that wasn't the best reply. "You all reacted accordingly. I could say the same for you guys."

She nodded, then held out her hand. "It's nice to have you on our side."

I blinked. She didn't recoil from my mud-encrusted hand but shook it firmly, mud bulging from between our fingers.

Okay, that was a little gross. We both pulled away and she subtly moved her hand behind her back to shake off the gunk.

I cleared my throat. "Are we ready to move on?"

Our supplies were gone. My own bowlsket had been ripped away by the current, and my right foot was missing the silk wrappings for a shoe. I slipped my silk sleeve over my foot and shook off my hands, frowning at the dirt caked under my fingernails.

The Wards joined us in silence. Kid Win's face pointed towards me.

"I think we are," Miss Militia said at their arrival. "Let's get out of this rain."

We sloughed through the water, falling into alignment. The rain slowly washed us off, but it was still freezing, and the last thing I wanted was to stay cold.

Kid Win drew up next to me, lowering his voice.

"What you did back there- thanks."

For helping him reach the line. Was that what Miss Militia had been referring to? Her back was to me, and the stray drops of mud where she had shaken her hand off splattered across the bottom of her jacket.

I hooked my mask on my bruised side, and shrugged. "No problem."

A/N:

*****For any who want to leave reviews: The site isn't letting anyone read their reviews right now. I'm getting emails of partial reviews, but when I try to read them it gives an error. So if you want to leave a comment (please! feed me!), then send me a PM. Thanks.

I had to cut this chapter short. Next one we should be reaching the town.

How are you guys liking the memory flashbacks? I can't tell if they seem out of place or if they work just fine, so let me know your critique on that. For future reference, not all of the canon changes are going to be revealed through flashbacks. Some are going to play out as Taylor is retelling them, or they'll be seen from another POV.