Disclaimer: I do not own the flock. I do, however, own the bitchy OC. Unfortunately.

Cat threw open the door of her house, slammed it shut, and leaned against the cracked gray paint that coated the cheap plastic siding. Her house just felt so suffocating and full these days. Granted, her tenants stayed in their rooms during the day, but she could hear their breathing and sometimes their muted muttering, calling to dead family members in their sleep. And then there were those that didn't sleep at all, pacing back and forth. Their tortured steps sent chills down her spine, and sometimes she just had to get away. So she slid down to clutch her knees against her chest on the porch, which was no more than a raised slab of concrete fenced in with a twisted iron railing.

When the survivors and evacuees started pouring into town, they'd needed someplace to stay. Following a trend set by her older, wiser neighbors, Cat had stuck a sign reading "Vacancy" into the frozen ground of her front lawn, and that was all it took. It wasn't really generosity; Cat had never been the most giving of people. But she knew an opportunity when she saw it, and nothing could stop her from taking it. She had lugged her few possessions into her bedroom and rented out the resulting extra rooms, using the kitchen as a common area.

She charged whatever she wanted by the week. The tenants didn't have much choice but to pay her; it was either here or the streets. Granted, a few did choose the streets over her high-priced hospitality, but Cat still made a decent enough living. If you could call this a life.

I managed to make it into town without passing out, throwing up, or being attacked by nonexistent colors, which was a pretty impressive feat, for me. Gazzy seemed to have either forgotten or blocked out my display of weakness, but Nudge was walking next to me, matching my slower pace and looking up at me every few minutes.

"I'm okay, Nudge," I reassured her as we neared the squat, dingy buildings. I squeezed her hand for good measure, and she smiled at me, but still looked worried. Fang, who had Angel slung carefully across his shoulder, kept shooting me concerned glances as well. I mean, I understood their need to keep an eye on me, but it didn't make their anxiety any more tolerable.

The town wasn't pretty, to say the least. It looked as though it hadn't been the most prosperous of places to begin with, but it had declined even further in the aftermath of the bomb. The streets were coated with a fine black dust, similar to the dust that coated our clothing. I imagined the dust as death and stifled a shiver of pain that ran from the tips of my wings down my spine. I couldn't escape it. It was always here to remind me.

There were people sleeping in the streets, leaning against the sides of buildings with their heads nodding. They looked almost a filthy as we did. I wondered if there was anyplace for them to go, or if there was anyplace for us to go. It didn't look good.

There were signs in front of the more well off houses we passed. Most said "No Vacancy." I looked at Fang. He shifted Angel against his shoulder.

"We'll see if there's anyplace with room for us. We have money," he reassured us.

"For the moment," I muttered. Nudge looked at me and I immediately regretted my words. I needed to stay in charge. And even if I couldn't pull that off, Fang could cover for me. I needed to stay… positive. Yes, that was it. Stay positive, Max.

One of the smaller houses up ahead had an opening. A girl was sitting on the porch, looking utterly miserable. She stood up quickly when she saw us coming and brushed the dust off of her clothing. She walked up next to the vacancy sign and waited, surveying us with a calculating glare.

"You're new," she said bluntly, when we were close enough to hear.

"Yes," I said, forcing my voice to stay strong.

"I've got the only space in town right now. You're not going to find a room anywhere else."

I looked at Fang for confirmation. He nodded.

"Okay," I said, lifting my chin. "Let's see it, then."

She smirked, but led us inside. One of the hinges was broken on the front door, and it hung there, slightly crooked. We walked in cautiously, slowly. Gazzy held my hand, looking overwhelmed and frightened. The single hinge squeaked as the girl shut the door behind us. She walked to the front of the group and down the narrow hallway.

"I have three people staying with me right now. There's only one more room left, and I doubt you'll fit comfortably, but it's really the only choice you've got at the moment." She looked over her shoulder and met my eyes with a confident look. Her eyes were a cruel, empty dark brown behind her ragged black hair. I didn't know what it was, but there was definitely something about this girl that I didn't trust.

She tapped the first three doors we passed lightly with her fist, saying a name each time. "Mark… Cassy… Rob…" We followed tentatively. Even after four years of relative safety, the flock still retained a sense of claustrophobia, and this hallway was about as closed in as it can get. Even Fang looked jumpy.

The girl stopped at the last door, paused, and turned the handle. "Go on in," she said, gesturing with her hand. "I'd come too, but something tells me I might not fit."

Fang went first, carrying Angel, then Nudge, then Gazzy and me, him still holding onto my hand like it was his only lifeline. I glared at the girl as we passed. She didn't seem the least bit intimidated. I decided that I really didn't like her.

She had, however, been right about one thing: the room was freaking small. The yellowing white paint was cracked and the hardwood floor was uneven. If I had laid down, I would probably have reached from wall to wall. The room was also completely bare, as in no bed, no couch, no chair, and no other type of furniture. I looked around at my flock, who were all looking at me. I met Fang's eyes. He gave me a look that clearly said, Well, if it's all we're going to get…

I turned back to the girl, who was leaning against the doorframe with her hair hanging over her face, covering one eye. "Well?" she said.

"Where do we sleep?" asked Nudge, ever the inquisitive one.

The girl shrugged. "On the floor," she said. "I can give you some blankets if you pay extra."

"And how much do you want?" Fang asked.

Her smile twisted up at one corner. "How much you got?"

I slid over to Fang and gave him a questioning look. "How much do we have?"

He bent his head down to whisper in my ear. "About seven hundred bucks, from the old bank account and the paychecks."

"We'll give you two hundred up front," I told the girl, who looked at me with indifference.

"Kay," she accepted. "After that it's fifty per week."

I turned back to Fang. "We don't know how long we're going to be here," he said quietly.

I walked up to the girl. She lifted her head from the doorframe to look at me straight on. "You're sure this is all there is?" I growled.

"Yep," she said, almost lazily. "Here, Mark'll tell you. She walked back to the first door and gave a sharp knock. "Mark!" she said harshly. "I know you're not asleep, I can hear you pacing in there all day!"

There was a sigh and the door opened. Mark had light brown hair that looked as though it hadn't been washed in weeks. The circles under his eyes were almost black from exhaustion. His voice was as monotonous as his appearance. "Whole town's full to the brim," he slurred. "She's a bitch," he continued, pointing at the girl, "but it's her or the streets." He proceeded to slam the door and I could hear his footsteps resume pacing.

"He's got that right," she said, walking back to the doorframe. " Me or the streets. What's your choice?"

I looked at Fang. He nodded. I squeezed Gazzy's hand.

"Okay," I sighed, as Fang dug in his pocket for the money. She reached forward with her hand outstretched, waiting. He handed her the bills and she counted them carefully, then smiled with the first real emotion I'd seen in her.

"Thanks," she said, seemingly slightly less cold. "I'm Catrien. Or Cat." And she slammed the door, alleviating the need for us to introduce ourselves.

Author's Note: Okay, allow me to just say this: OCs are really hard to write. If anyone has any suggestions for her character, please let me know. Or any other characters, for that matter. Thanks for all the ideas, everyone, but I really need guy names. Names for large, hairy, mean men, aka not names like "Melvin" (But thanks for the effort, FallingisFun). I'm going to try to use as many names as possible, but I might not get to some.

You may have noticed that I have a new story up, called Betrayal. I was trying to get over my writer's block for this story, so I started writing something else to try to get the juices flowing, and I came up with an entirely different story. So I'd be eternally grateful if you could read and review it. Thanks!

Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter: Someone aka Me, senoritasophia13, 5253racer, bbaluber3, FangsBestFriend, Kyo-Fang, FallingisFun, Jayde3, RippedIntoPieces, aradiea, disneydork, Lion8520 (x4), 14rosestar15, and Kristin. Hope everyone enjoyed this chapter!