Thank you guys so much for all the reviews! I didn't expect to get as much as I have so quickly. I'm honestly thinking that I'll probably be extending this story to ten chapters, not just because of the reviews and follows but because I have so many ideas in my head. Please review when you can, it's much appreciated! I'll probably have the next chapter up within the next day or two. Enjoy ;)

~Chapter Four: Asking For Trouble~

CHARLIE

I don't like this. On more than one occasion during our seemingly never-ending walk, I tried to convince Monroe that we should at least walk side-by-side. But each time, he insisted that I walk in front of him so he could keep a close eye on me. I feel too exposed this way, and this feeling of complete vulnerability is ruining my focus. I really should be concentrating on our surroundings and where we're going, but I can't help but think about Monroe's eyes on my back, digging holes straight through me.

"You know," I try for the umpteenth time, "I would really feel more comfortable – "

"'If you weren't staring at me', yes, Charlie, I know," he interrupts, and even though my back has been to him for the past six hours, I can almost see him rolling his eyes. It's scary how well I'm getting to know him.

"Well," I huff, hoping my faked immaturity will annoy him, "this is stupid." Even so, I don't turn to face him, and my legs propel me relentlessly forward.

"That it may be, but this is how I like things done," he remarks, totally unperturbed by my whining.

"You're so paranoid, it's not even funny," I mutter morosely, kicking some small pebbles out of the way. They fly in all directions, scattering in the underbrush. I wish I could disappear just as quickly, but under Monroe's supervision, that's not likely.

Monroe doesn't respond to this, but I can tell he's not pleased. All the better. His anger may cloud his judgment, and a split-second of distraction is really all I need to escape. Then I can finally find my way to some random town and settle down there until this whole I-was-there-when-the-bombs-went-off-and-my-mom-kin da-went-a-little-crazy-afterward-so-everything-fel l-to-pieces thing is over. Until then, however – and this new idea strikes me so fast and so hard that I can't believe it's taken me this long to acknowledge it – I'll have to lull Monroe into a false sense of complacency so that he won't be on his guard around me quite so often.

"Hey," I say suddenly, and stop. "I could really use a break." As I turn to face Monroe, I see that he has already drifted to the side of the road and is staring out into the distance. Puzzled, I slowly walk toward him, afraid of what he might have in mind for me. Maybe this is some kind of test. He thinks that by taking his eyes off me for a few seconds, I'll make a break for it here and now. But I'm not that stupid; I can sense a trap as well as I can make one.

"What is it?" I ask, stepping up next to him.

Frowning, he says, "Smoke. Lots of it."

I make a thoughtful-sounding noise in the back of my throat, not necessarily caring what trouble has befallen these other travelers, whoever they may be. Besides, nine out of ten times, they'll probably try to jump us at knifepoint if we made any move to help them. Not something I want to deal with at the moment.

I shrug. "Maybe it's a fire that got a little out of control. Or maybe somebody decided to burn down a house. I don't know."

Monroe doesn't even acknowledge that I've spoken; instead, he steps off the road and strides purposefully into the trees. I sigh, already knowing that this is something we're going to regret. Why don't I take my slim chances and run? Well, because I probably won't get very far. Following closely behind, I scan the immediate area, sensing nothing but dead leaves, bewildered animals, and burning wood. Several loud thumps reverberate through both the air and ground, making even my teeth rattle. I swallow, wondering what in the hell is going on and why Monroe seems so intent on getting closer to it.

"What was that?" I whisper cautiously. "And why are we –"

Monroe pivots, whip-fast, and clamps a hand over my mouth. "No talking," he hisses angrily. "Whatever's happening is just beyond these trees. If it weren't for that loud hammering, we would've been heard. Haven't you learned anything?"

I can only glare at him until he removes his hand, but even then I decide it's just better to keep my mouth closed until Monroe gets what he came for. Which, come to think of it, he still hasn't mentioned to me…

We peek around a small copse of trees and are met with an unfortunate sight; utter chaos. A house is uncontrollably aflame – as I'd predicted – and the right half has already collapsed inward. Volumes of smoke billow into the cloudless blue sky, giant whorls filled with black ash and flying sparks. Even from several dozen feet away, my nostrils flare with the acrid smell. On the sagging front porch, two burly men are lugging someone out of the house, but it seems their attempts at rescue are being met with great struggle. I blink with surprise when the person they're trying to save comes into view; an elderly woman who can't weigh more than ninety pounds. She's thrashing about, and her face wears a fierce snarl.

"Who are they?" I ask, jerking my chin at the men. Now that I'm really getting a decent look at them, they don't look like the type to go barreling into a burning house to save a woman who clearly doesn't want to be saved.

"They probably belong to one of those single-minded tribes that live in the center of the Plains Nation," Monroe says, watching the scene critically.

Hmm. But that can't be right. Their clothes are military-style, if not slightly rumpled and badly ripped in several places. Then my eyes widen. The two men carrying the writhing woman have made it down the porch's two crumbling steps, and now that they're on solid ground, they easily regain their footing. They lift the woman up easily and throw her to the ground. She cries out in surprise, her back arching painfully, as she rolls to her side. At the same time, a third man comes shooting out of the house, a massive gun in hand. He whoops loudly and proceeds to pop off a few rounds into the sky. The woman covers her ears, and the two men shoot their third companion a murderous look.

"What you think you're doing?" demands the buffest of the three, approaching the one with the gun.

"Aw, c'mon, I just havin' some fun," he says, screwing up his nose. "This ol' bag ain't goin' nowhere."

"What we gonna do with her?" asks the other, smaller man. "She obviously ain't got any value, stupid old bitch." With that, he spits a giant glob of mucus right next to the cowering woman, who seems oblivious to the fact that the gunshots have ceased. Her aged hands continue to block out the rest of the world.

The buffest one narrows his eyes as he walks over to her. There's something about the look on his face that sends a tingle down my spine. He bares his teeth in an ugly attempt at a smile and brings back his heavy boot to kick her in the stomach. That's when I move into action; I can't watch this from the sidelines anymore. It's sickening.

Lightening fast, I grab a throwing star out of one of Monroe's pockets and whip it at the man. Even in a panic, my aim remains true; the silver weapon burrows deep into his neck. He makes a gurgling noise in the back of his throat, his eyes wandering in our direction. He seems to be a little slow on the uptake though; his two friends have already spotted us. The small man who'd been carrying the elderly woman lets out a battle cry and wraps his fingers around a miniature axe while the one with the gun wastes no time in aiming at us.

There's no time for explanations; Monroe curses under his breath and shoves me away just as the first few bullets spew between us.

I know, I know, there wasn't much Chass in this chapter, but the next one will have more than enough to make up for it~