"Just don't think about it. Don't think about what you're doing. You won't feel as guilty when it's real." A hot wind blew across the desert. Sweat made the gun in Evan's hands slick and hard to hold. He stared at the bottles that were a few yards in front of him. Heat waves rolled across the sand. Smitty stood beside him, his gaze on the bottles. The heat felt like a burning white neon light.

"Do you still feel guilty?" Evan asked quietly.

"Sometimes. If they had made me shoot you, I wouldn't have forgiven myself." Smitty said. Evan turned his gaze away from the bottles, looking up at Smitty who met his gaze. Slowly, Smitty's lips turned up into a small smile that faded away after a few moments. "About what happened to Marcel, don't feel bad about it, okay? It's not your fault." Evan looked back at the bottles, his breath catching in his throat. He shifted his weight uncomfortably. His right running shoe had blotches of dark red stains that Evan had tried and failed to scrub out over the tub the night before.

"Jonathan has my picture." Evan managed to say. He felt guilty. He had been unable to fight back.

"That doesn't mean it's your fault. You couldn't have known that was going to happen. If it's anyone's, it's our fault for letting our guard down." Smitty sighed. Evan shook his head. He'd never blame them for this. Evan took a deep breath and fired the gun. The bullet completely missed the bottles. Evan let out an annoyed sigh. Why did Brian think he was dangerous? He couldn't do anything. "Don't get frustrated. Try again." Evan raised the gun and once more, pulled the trigger. One of the bottles wobbled when the bullet flew past it and embedded itself into the dirt behind it.

"Shit." Evan muttered, lowering the gun.

"You're thinking about it too much. Come on. Again." Smitty encouraged him. Evan did as he was told and fired the gun again.

The hot bath water rippled gently around Evan's left hand as he moved it back and forth through the water. His right hand, the gauze needing to be changed and tightened, hung over the side of the white tub. His dark gaze was on the ceiling. On the counter was a vase of yellow buttercups.

Evan's mind wouldn't let go of the image of Jonathan staring at him through the mirror of the elevator, a smile on his face. He was playing with Evan. He knew Evan was scared, knew he wanted to kill him just as much as he wanted Evan dead.

Sighing, Evan leaned his head back against the tub. Not even two weeks ago, he had thought that going to school was the scariest thing he'd ever have to face. Those five numbers had completely changed his life; it didn't feel like a good thing. The fear he faced felt suffocating, just like the cord that had been wrapped around his neck by the men that had tried to kill him that day with Jonathan. His gaze turned down to the water as he remembered what it felt like not being able to breathe and the fear that had taken control of him.

Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he sank underwater. Bubbles floated up from his nose. His right hand slowly curled around the side of the tub as his chest tightened as he began to run out of air.

Still, he stayed underwater. His chest felt like it couldn't get any tighter. It felt like his ribs had been cracked all over again. It felt like someone had wrapped their hands around his neck. His right hand gripped the tub, his knuckles had gone white. Evan suddenly gasped, water filling his lungs. He sat up suddenly, water spilling over the side of the side of the tub, heaving for air. Water soaked through the gauze on Evan's right hand.

Leaning back against the tub, Evan took a deep breath and went under again.

The city was glowing that night. Neon light illuminated the inside of the car, sparkling in the night as the cars sped past. Evan stared out the window, his head against the headrest. The expensive red car came to a stop at an intersection, the Charger stopping behind them. Evan slowly turned his head to look at Craig who held the steering wheel tightly. He hadn't been happy when he heard their plan but agreed to it because he couldn't think of anything else. Leaving was not an option and no one wanted to wait to see what else Jonathan would do.

"You should wait in the car." Craig said quietly. Evan's right hand clenched into a fist.

"No." Craig met Evan's gaze. "Tyler told me to wait. I'm not waiting. I'm going with you."

"Evan...It's not safe." Craig sighed.

"Waiting in the car is?" Evan's eyes narrowed. "I'm tired of you guys telling me stories."

"What's the point of all of this if you get killed?" Craig suddenly snapped. "Tyler made you wait for a reason! He wasn't making you wait to have a laugh or fucking around! These people are bad people! They don't fucking care that you're a kid! They will kill you if given the opportunity!" Evan stared at Craig with wide eyes. The light turned green, the car quickly speeding up.

"And you're not a bad person?" Evan said before he could stop himself. He crossed his arms and looked away from Craig's shocked expression.

"What do you...What are you talking about?" Craig cried.

"I heard you let someone bleed to death. I thought you were a medic...Someone who cares." Evan said, his eyes on the city outside the window.

"Who told you that?" Craig demanded. Evan said nothing. "Who? Who fucking told you?" Craig yelled. "Who fucking told you?"

"Brian."

"Brian told you that? Brian told you? Why would you believe him?" Craig sounded furious. Evan's chest tightened. "Tell me! Do you believe him?"

"He had no reason to lie."

"He's a fucking snake! You should never, ever believe a word he says!" Craig yelled, his eyes switching between the teenaged boy and the road.

"Did Tyler tell you that?" Evan asked, his dark gaze turning to Craig who stammered, unable to answer his question. "Brian had no reason to lie. He just me told how things are."

"He tried to kill you, Evan!" Craig cried. "He's evil! He's a horrible, cruel human being! Don't you dare fall for his lies!" Evan kept his gaze on the flashing neon lights. His mom had never even yelled at him like this before. Craig scared him. "Evan look at me." Craig said sternly. Evan didn't move. "Evan!" He slowly turned his head to look at Craig. "Promise me that you won't listen to him." Evan didn't want to listen to Brian. He knew Tyler would want him to listen to Craig and the others. However, Brian had offered protection and Craig and the rest of Tyler's family had let Jonathan into their building; they had doubted him.

"I promise." Evan said quietly. Satisfied, Craig turned his attention back to the road. The sounds of passing cars filled the silence. Lights would shine across their faces for only a few moments before fading away. "Did you do it?" Evan whispered. "Did you let a man bleed out?" He glanced at Craig who gripped the steering wheel tightly.

"Yes." Craig whispered. "I did." Once more, silence surrounded them. Evan turned back to the window. Brian was right. No one was good in this world. "It's not like he was innocent." Craig broke the silence, trying to justify his actions. "He was one of Brian's guys. He was shooting at us…" Craig said matter-of-factly. "I would have helped him…"

"You didn't." Evan breathed. He prayed Craig didn't hear him but the silence told him that he did.

"I don't want you to get hurt, okay?" Craig said as the red car turned onto the street the hotel was on.

"Okay." Evan sighed.

As they approached the hotel, something white caught Evan's eye. Under a warm, orange street lamp in front of the hotel, was Tyler's white and black Corvette. Evan sat up, staring at it with wide eyes. For a moment, he thought it was a hallucination until he noticed Craig staring at it too.

"Oh my god…" Craig glanced at Evan who stared back, just as confused. The red Ferrari pulled over across the street from the Corvette, the Charger parking behind it. Before Craig could say anything, Evan had pulled his seat belt off and pushed open the door, stepping out onto the sidewalk. "Evan! Wait!" Craig called out, quickly opening his door. Evan heard Marcel yell his name, telling him to get back but Evan didn't listen. He hurried across the road towards the Corvette, tears filling his eyes. Was there a possibility that Tyler was alive? What if it was all a test? A joke? Tyler could still be alive! Evan's chest felt like it was going to burst. He let out a sob as he got nearer to the Corvette, reaching out to touch its white side. Tyler was alive, he knew it.

On the driver's seat was a bouquet of roses wrapped in black paper.

"Evan!" Smitty screamed.

There was a click.

A sudden force threw Evan off his feet. Heat rolled over him. He flailed his arms out as he flew through the air, trying to stop his fall.

It felt like a wave had swept over him.

As he flew through the air, Evan was six again, playing among the waves at the beach on a bright summer day. His mom sat on the sand, watching him. He had giggled, splashing the water. As if in response to his splashes, a wave had suddenly crashed over him. Water had filled his lungs. He was thrown around like he was nothing. His arms had flailed. The watery world around him was spinning, the salt water stinging his eyes every time he tried to open them. His mother's arms had suddenly wrapped around him, pulling him from the water to safety.

This time, no one caught him.

Evan hit the pavement hard, his jacket tearing as he rolled across the hard surface before coming to a stop several feet from where he had been, his face pressed against the road. His ears were ringing painfully. Slowly, Evan opened his eyes. Through the fog of tears and smoke, Evan could faintly make out the burning Corvette. Its white paint was blackened, its interior consumed with flames that spilt out its broken windows. Something loud rang through the air. Blurry shapes moved like ghosts around him.

There was another loud bang, then another. Distorted voices yelled into the smoke. As frightened as he felt, Evan couldn't move. His ears wouldn't stop ringing. Staring at the ghostly figures with wide, unblinking eyes, he wondered if he was dead. There was another bang and the figures ducked. Evan couldn't focus on the ghosts, their blurry shapes seeming to disappear and reappear in the smoke. He could only stare at the burning car.

Was he dead? After everything that had happened, was he dead?

Evan felt dead.

He couldn't move, couldn't breathe. Was this how Tyler felt?

Evan didn't know that today would be the day he died.

Something grabbed his right shoulder and rolled him onto his back. Evan's gaze was now on the wide open night sky and the smoke as it billowed above the buildings. There was a voice but Evan couldn't make out what it was saying. A figure leaned over Evan, blocking the sky from view. There was another bang. The two figures grabbed Evan's lapels, dragging him across the street, past the burning car. There were more loud bangs and then a new sound, like splintering wood. The sky and the smoke gave away to a white ceiling and a floor replaced the hard pavement. The figures propped Evan up against a wall. There were more of them now, kneeling in front of him. Someone suddenly shook his lapels violently. Evan's head rolled back and hit the wall. He blinked and winced in pain.

"Fuck...Fuck...Oh my fucking God…" One of the figures reached forward, pulling Evan into a hug. "Evan...Say something, please. Are you okay?" Evan's head ached. He took a deep, strangled breath of air. His ribs protested the movement. With his face pressed against Smitty's shirt, he became aware of the blood oozing down his face from his forehead.

"T-They...They destroyed Tyler's car…" Evan managed to whisper. Smitty's hug tightened around Evan.

"I know." A gentle hand reached for Evan's wrist, pressing their thumb against his skin to feel his pulse.

"We can't stay here. Any minute they'll be on us." Marcel said, his eyes on the end of the hallway they were in. Under the harsh white light of the hallway, the stitches on Marcel's cheek looked angry. Looking past Smitty, and around the hall, Evan realised that they were in the hotel, having gone through a side door. Outside the open doorway, the Corvette burned.

"The kid can't move! Not like this!" Craig cried.

"Then we get out of here!" Daithi snapped.

"No…" Evan shook his head. He took another deep, shuddering breath. "Leave me here."

"That's stu-" Marcel was cut off as a man suddenly appeared at the end of the hall. Gunshots rang through the hallway, the group of them ducking their heads.

"We're here because the vault might be here. We'll search the building and then we'll get the fuck out of here." Smitty said when the shooting stopped. "And if we kill Jonathan and find the vault in the process, even better." Reluctantly, the others agreed to the plan. Brock got up and closed the door, locking it. "Can you walk?" Smitty asked Evan who nodded but he needed help to get up.

He limped down the hall with Smitty, leaning heavily against him. Smitty stopped when he found a small supply closet. He helped Evan sit back down, leaning him against the back wall under the cluttered shelves. Evan had to hug his knees to his chest to fit in the small space among the mops and strong smelling cleaner fluid. "Here." Smitty held his handgun out to Evan. "Just in case. You'll be okay." Smitty smiled reassuringly. Evan did his best to keep his hands from shaking as he took the gun. "We'll come back and get you soon. Promise." Smitty smiled. Behind him, the others nodded. Craig gave him a smile. Evan wondered if he was smiling because he got what he wanted; Evan waiting.

Smitty closed the closet door and Evan heard the padlock on the outside click as it locked, leaving him locked in the darkness. The boy looked around the small closet, forcing himself to breathe. His chest was tightening. It made him think about hiding in his closet when his dad passed away. He had spent hours hidden among the coats, his tear-filled eyes on the crack of light coming through the door. Evan stared at the door in front of him and the light coming in under the door. The gun shook in his hands. He wasn't as brave as he thought he was.

Down the hall, Craig glanced back at the locked closet door, looking hesitant at leaving Evan alone and vulnerable. He had never felt more guilty and terrified when he peered over the hood of his car that he had thrown himself over in time to avoid the blast, and saw Evan laying face down on the pavement; he had looked like a corpse. He told himself that Evan would be fine. They turned a corner, heading down a small staircase. Marcel kicked open the first door, scanning the empty laundry room. They continued slowly down the hall, all of them at the ready.

"We should split up." Marcel whispered. Before anyone could make a command, a door suddenly swung open. A group of men stepped into the hall from another storage room, shooting at the boys. Unphased, they shot back. One of them knocked the gun from Craig's hands and punched him hard in the face. Grabbing the man's wrist, Craig spun and bent at the waist, pulling hard enough on the man's arm to dislocate it. He threw the man over his shoulder, hearing bones crack as the man landed on the cement floor with a cry of pain. Craig grabbed his gun and aimed it at the man's head. The image of Evan's look of disgust towards him after he said yes to letting a man die flashed through his mind. Craig stared at him, debating what he should do. Instead of pulling the trigger, he hit the man hard in the face with the gun, knocking him out. Craig turned and caught up with the others as a yell and more gunshots ran out through the hallway.

Evan jumped at the sound of gunshots. The gun in his hands tightened. Breathing was getting hard. His wide eyes were on the crack of light coming in from under the door. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes.

"They are coming back…" Evan whispered. "They aren't gonna leave me…"

"Are we playing hide and seek?" A voice from the other side of the door laughed. Evan's eyes shot open, his breath caught in his chest as fear overwhelmed him. Someone one had blocked out the light from under the door. With shaking hands, Evan aimed the gun at the door. "I found you, Evan." Jonathan said. Evan pulled the trigger. Bullets burst through the door, letting light into the dark closet. When he finally let go of the trigger, Evan shakily lowered the gun.

Had he shot Jonathan? Had he really done it? He couldn't stop the small laugh of relief of escaped his throat. Tyler would be proud. "Something funny?" Jonathan asked. There was a sudden gunshot, the bullet breaking. Evan screamed as another bullet was shot through the door and embedded itself in the wall above him. The door flew open. Hands curled tightly around Evan's lapels, dragging him out of the closet. Jonathan threw him against the opposite wall, smiling at him as he crumpled to the floor. Jonathan kicked the gun away from him and before Evan could react, put a knee on his chest, pinning him down to the floor. "I've been dreaming about you." He curled his hands around Evan's throat, squeezing as hard as he could. Evan gasped for air, his eyes going wide with fear as the air left his lungs. He hit at Jonathan, desperately struggling to push him off. He pressed his gauze-wrapped hand against Jonathan's face, pushing as hard as he could against his head.

Down the hall, the boys had made their way into the hotel's kitchen. Blood splattered onto the floor as a man fell to the floor. Smitty fired at another as he ran into the kitchen only to be grabbed by Ryan, one of Brian's favourites he had heard, when it came to dealing with problems. Ryan spun Smitty around, throwing him down against one of the metal counters. His gun fell from his hands. Smitty gasped in pain, his hands fumbling for anything he could use. His hands curled around a knife. Ryan hit Smitty's head off the counter. His head spun. Gritting his teeth and letting out an angry cry, he managed to turn and slashed Ryan's face, the knife glinting in the sunlight. Ryan cried out in pain, falling back to the floor, his hands over his eyes. He screamed in pain as Smitty threw the knife down, turning to face the others. From down the hall came the sound of gunshots and a scream. Smitty looked back at the others with wide eyes. Smitty met Craig's gaze from across the room. Smitty started towards the hall but a hand suddenly curled around his ankle, sending him crashing to the hard floor. Ryan grabbed him with his left hand, his right reaching for the knife.

Evan's hands fell from Jonathan's head. The world was darkening at the edges of Evan's vision. Jonathan stared down at him, a smile wide on his face. Evan's wide, bloodshot gaze lowered to Jonathan's shoulder. With the last energy he had, he raised his gauze-wrapped hand and dug his thumb into Jonathan's wound as deep as he could. Blood oozed out from the stab wound and soaked into Evan's gauze. Jonathan screamed in anger and pain, letting go of Evan's neck to hit his hand away. Evan aimed a sharp knee to Jonathan's groin, managing to push him off. Evan gasped as air flooded his lungs. He coughed as he rolled onto his stomach and tried to crawl away from Jonathan.

A hand curled around the back of Evan's collar, his own t-shirt now choking him. He cried out as Jonathan dragged him to his feet, spinning him around to throw him again against the wall. He pinned him to the wall, lifting him off his feet. Evan's bloodstained shoes kicked against Jonathan's shins and the wall.

"I-I'm going to kill you." Evan spat in Jonathan's face. Jonathan laughed.

"Will you, little boy?" Jonathan smiled. Evan locked his dark gaze on him, his chest tight from lack of air. Jonathan broke away from his gaze to look down the hall. He leaned closer to Evan who shrunk back against the wall. He aimed another sharp kick to Jonathan's shins. He hissed, his grip tightening on Evan's jacket. "I'll see you soon." Jonathan smiled and let go of Evan, dropping him back to the floor. When Evan looked back up, Jonathan was gone, the door at the end of the hall slowly closing.

Gunshots coming from the other end of the hall made Evan jump. Taking a deep, wheezing breath, Evan got to his feet. He picked up the gun and slowly staggered down the dark hallway. Turning the corner, Evan stopped when he saw the bodies.