May 13, 2010.

A/N: Hey, Solacers XD

So, thanks for sticking with me with this story :) I know the updates are slow now; once a week to be precise. I'm sorry about that, but I just don't have as much time to fritter writing chapters for all the stories I'm stupidly trying to juggle at the moment. So thanks for bearing with me. I appreciate it :)

Something that made me laugh:

'... asking to know when Max comes back and bah I hope Morgan dies.' -- Keiichiro-San's review to chapter 11.

Really, guys? You want Morgan to DIE? That's kinda sucky, 'cause she's sorta the main character right now :/ You know what, I'm putting a poll in my profile. Head over and have your say; if you think Morgan should be killed off, or if you think she should stick around 'til the end. I'm interested to know what you guys think :)

Also! If you're interested, I've added SfS' theme (song) to my profile. Check it out :)

Thanks a bunch, and enjoy the chapter :D

Searching for Solace

- TWELVE -

March 16 – 11:08

When Morgan dragged herself into consciousness, the first thing she registered was the thumping pain at the back of her head. It was blinding; she could hardly see straight. But she sat through the wave of pain until it gradually passed, and slowly opened her eyes to gauge her surroundings.

She was in a room of some sort, lying – no, sitting – on the carpet. It was basically empty, except for a pile of blankets in the corner. Sunlight streamed through the window across her face. She winced and moved her head out of the ray. Pain shattered through her skull again, and she cursed.

Something – someone? – shifted behind her, and she started, trying to look around. That was when she realised she couldn't move her arms, because they were tightly bound. She was sitting back-to-back with someone, but she had no idea who.

"… What the fuck, man?" Oh, it was Daniel.

"What happened?" Morgan moaned. She felt Daniel shift again, no doubt going through the motions of discovering that he was tightly bound, like she just had.

"The fuck is this?" he demanded groggily, referring, she supposed, to their sticky predicament. She winced at the volume of his voice. It felt like there were bells ringing endlessly in her ears.

"Do you mind not moving, talking or swearing?" Morgan moaned. "I've got a splitting headache."

"Where's Matt?" Daniel asked, ignoring her request. Morgan glanced around. The pile of blankets moved, and she realised it wasn't actually a pile of blankets, but was, in fact, Matt's body lying on the floor. He, too, was tied up with a rope.

"Over there," Morgan said, knowing Daniel couldn't see for himself. "He's fine."

"Fuck… my head," Daniel swore. "What were we hit with?"

"A fire extinguisher," a new voice replied. Morgan and Daniel snapped their heads, looking around sharply. Both groaned in pain as their heads swam.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Daniel demanded promptly. "You could've killed us."

The person ignored them and walked in. Morgan looked around again when her head stopped throbbing. A skinny girl in camo-print three-quarters and a tight black tank top stood before them, her long, thin red hair tied into two low pigtails. She'd pulled a yellow and black cap sporting the Richmond Football Club logo down over her head. The eyes beneath the peak were sharp and untrusting.

"Who are you?" she demanded. "How did you know about this place, and who sent you here?"

"Sent us?" Morgan inquired. "We got kicked out of the hospital and came here for refuge."

"The hospital? The Alfred?" the girl said, and her face scrunched up angrily. Morgan sensed that the answer was not a good one, judging by the change in the girl's expression.

"Hang on," she said hastily. "We had no idea there were people living here. We just came because Matt – the kid over there – had an aunt who used to live here; we're not local. Two of our friends are at the Alfred, and they kicked us out because of visiting hours. We had nowhere else to go. Honestly, we're not enemies or threats or anything. We just needed somewhere to sleep."

The girl stared at her for a long moment, then shrugged and relaxed. "I think they're okay," she called out the door. "I don't think they were sent, after all."

Three more people crowded into the room. The first was a slender girl with blonde hair and hawklike, exotic eyes the colour of cerulean. The second was a tall, brawny guy with a ripped body and short, messy, bleached spikes. The third was a skinny runt of a guy, lanky, in black skinny jeans and an Escape the Fate t-shirt, with obviously dyed-black, too long hair, and more metal in his face than Morgan owned in jewellery.

"What's your story?" the blonde girl asked, her predator eyes sharp. Clearly, just because they'd passed initial judgement didn't mean she trusted them.

"Cut 'em some slack," the red-head said, glancing at her. "You were standing outside – you heard. They're fine. Brody, untie 'em, would ya?"

The brawny blonde guy stooped and untied the ropes binding them together. Stretching thankfully, Morgan clambered to her feet, head in hands. "You guys hit hard."

"Sorry," Brody replied gruffly.

"Can't be too careful," the blonde added, unsmiling. "It's way too dangerous."

"Want some Panadol?" the redhead offered. Morgan and Daniel followed her into a narrow hallway (they left Matt sleeping), which opened out into a small, messy kitchen. The redhead climbed up on the bench and ferreted through the cupboards. She tossed a pack of paracetamol across the room and filled two glasses with water.

"Thanks," Morgan said, not quite knowing what else to say.

"I'm Amy," the redhead introduced with a smile.

"Morgan," Morgan replied. "And Daniel. The other kid's Matt."

"Well you already know Brody," Amy said. "The blonde girl is Emma, and the Emo kid is Nick."

"How long have you guys been here?" Morgan asked. Daniel seemed too annoyed at being knocked out to want to talk yet.

Amy shrugged. "Maybe a week. Brody owns the place, and he let me stay. Emma was already here. We saved Nick from a Chimera Anima a couple of days ago."

"How'd you save him?" Morgan asked curiously.

Amy grinned. "We fought it. All of us are Mews."

"Shut your fucking mouth, Marshall," Emma snapped, stalking in and glaring. "Stop giving away our secrets. You have no idea who they could tell, and if you're friendliness screws us over, I'll fucking kill you."

"Who're they gonna tell?" Amy protested, frowning. Emma glared at her. She was beautiful and terrifying at the same time, with her brilliant blue eyes blazing and her creamy skin crinkled with rage around her eyes.

"They could tell them," she hissed. "Or, they could tell someone who is linked to them. Or they could accidentally let it slip to someone who trusts someone else who is actually linked to them. Don't trust anyone, you fucking dropkick."

She levelled a seething glare at Morgan and Daniel and stormed out like a thundercloud.

"Um… sorry?" Amy offered, red-faced.

"You can trust us," Morgan assured her, realising in advance how stupid the next part of her sentence would sound, but saying it anyway. "We're Mews, too."

"Really?" Amy's voice squeaked with excitement, her eyes big and round – almost shiny.

"Well, not all of us," Morgan corrected. "Daniel and I are. Matt's not. But… when she says 'them', who is she referring to?"

Amy sighed, swinging her legs back and forth. "She means the Cyniclons. She really hates them, and not just because they've invaded Australia and are killing everyone. It's like she has a weird personal vendetta against them, but she never talks about it."

The three of them were quiet for a moment, then Morgan spoke. "Well," she said sarcastically. "She's lovely."

"Don't take it personally," Amy advised. "She's like that to everyone. Come on. Let's make up some beds. You need somewhere to sleep, right? You can stay with us if you want. Brody and Nick won't mind, and Emma'll get over it."

She grinned impishly and led the way out of the kitchen.

March 16 – 21:24

Morgan let out a long sigh of sleepiness and comfort. It was nine thirty, she'd finally taken a nice, hot shower and literally watched the dirt wash out of her hair. She'd lathered shampoo and conditioner it until it shone again, then she'd dried herself with a thick, fluffy towel. Now she was curled up under a pile of cosy (although moth-ball smelling) blankets beside Amy, warmed to the core, and was pleasantly sleepy. Through the comfy fuzziness of her mind, she managed to string together some thoughts and questions.

"Amy," she whispered in the darkness.

"Yeah?" the little redhead whispered back. Morgan rolled onto her stomach. The pillow beneath her cheeks was soft and plush.

"What's wrong with the Alfred?" she asked, remembering Amy's initial reaction when she'd mentioned it. Amy sighed audibly.

"The problem is, we don't know," she replied. "But something weird's happening there. We've been keeping up with updates and reports, and it's the only hospital in Melbourne that hasn't been attacked yet. It's suspicious, and it doesn't make any sense. You'd think they'd wipe out Melbourne's best hospital first. Plus…" she trailed off hesitantly.

"What?" Morgan prompted, curiosity heightened.

"A lot of people die there," Amy said finally. She sighed with what sounded like reluctance. Morgan's insides had temporarily frozen; they defrosted slowly while she mulled over the alarming statement.

"How do you know?"

"Like I said before: We follow updates and reports. We want to learn as much about our enemy as possible so we can defeat it. We just keep our ears to the ground and our faces out of the spotlight. So far, they haven't noticed us, so we're pretty safe here."

Both girls were silent. In the corner, the mattress that housed Emma rustled as she moved around for a second. Morgan didn't know if she was actually asleep, or simply ignoring them both. She didn't really care.

"We've been keeping track," Amy went on, still whispering. "More people are admitted to the Alfred than discharged. And those who are discharged are all middle-aged or older."

Morgan knew immediately what she was talking about. "But most admittances would be kids, wouldn't they? Students and stuff, because of the attacks on schools."

"Exactly," Amy agreed. "So an alarming number of kids are getting admitted, but not discharged. We know for a fact that some have died – they say it has something to do with their wounds. We don't know much about that, though."

"It's poison," Morgan explained, feeling more and more certain about it each time it was raised in conversation. "The monsters secrete some kind of poison somehow, and it gets into your cells if you're wounded by one. We think, but aren't sure, that the poison attacks the immune system, like cancer or leukaemia. If it spreads, it shuts down the body from the inside."

Amy was heavily silent beside her. Finally she whispered: "How do you know all that shit?"

"We came from Box Hill Hospital," Morgan said simply. "Daniel overheard some doctors talking about it."

"… That's awful," Amy said sadly, sounding dismayed even through her whispering.

Morgan found her eyes stinging as she thought of Max. "I don't know if there's a cure. It's probably why so many kids are dying."

They were both silent for a long time.

"What I want to know," Amy said finally, sounding much sleepier now, "is what's actually going on at the Alfred."

Me too, Morgan thought to herself. I want to know if it's going to affect Max, and if we need to get her out again.

She lay in her thrown-together bed, staring up at the dark roof for what felt like ages, mulling over everything that had happened in the last ten days. Ten days. It had only been such a short amount of time since the aliens had invaded, and already their world had been turned completely upside down. School felt like a thing of the past; like it belonged to some part of her life from years prior. Or like it simply belonged in another lifetime altogether. Something as routine and trivial as school was just unfathomable these days.

As she lay in bed thinking, an interesting thought slowly came to Morgan. She didn't know how she came to think it, but once she did, it stayed in her mind, growing and festering, until she was thinking about only it. In fact, it felt like such a significant thought that it dragged her away from the brink of sleep and threw her back into alert consciousness. She opened her eyes and stared steadily up at the shadowy light bulb above her.

"You know what I want to know?" she muttered to no-one in particular. Amy's peaceful breathing was tell-tale of her having fallen asleep. Morgan went on, the thought concreting itself as she spoke it aloud. "I want to know why so many young people are dying. I want to know why it seems like only young people are dying."

Eventually, sleep curled its snaky tendrils around her once more and dragged her steadily towards its inviting hearth. But even as she let go and slipped willingly into unconsciousness, the sense that she'd caught onto something significant, and that she was right, burned with strong conviction – like a glowing tongue of flame – at the back of her mind.

CULTURE NOTE

Richmond Football Club (RFC): An Aussie Rules footy team, nicknamed 'the Tigers', due to their logo; a yellow brute of a tiger in a footy jumper, holding a red football. They sport the colours yellow and black; their jumper (guernsey as the English call them, jersey as I've also heard them called) is black with a yellow diagonal stripe from the right shoulder to the left hip. Their training grounds are in Melbourne, in the suburb of Richmond, like Collingwood's training grounds are in Collingwood. Back in the day, the AFL was the VFL (Victorian Football League), because Aussie Rules was originally exclusively a Victorian sport. Yup, it was ours before it was Australia's. Victoria FTW! Seriously, man, we're the best damn state in Australia ;)

Panadol - I've explained this before, I think. It's a medicine; a paracetamol in the form of a tablet. Painkillers, basically. Widely-used in Australia.

Dropkick - Synonymous for idiot, fool, etc.

NOTES

Note! Lawl. Nick's an Emo Kid. Sorry, just wanted to LOL at that. It's not really a relevant or important note in any way XD

A/N: Ooh, what's Morgan onto with that little theory? Will it lead her to truth, or a dead end? To safety, or to even more perilous dangers? And what's the deal with Emma? Want to know why she's got a five-foot pole practically shoved up her a$$? Well, you'll just have to read on to find out!

Y'all know how it is... Reviews are love :)

And remember to check in on my poll, too!

Until the next update.

Love,

Cherrie xx