This story is odd. This is partly not my fault. It's my brain's fault, okay? (And I'm writing a Maximum Ride oneshot... But that's a different story. Literally.)

DISCLAIMER: No no, no no. That's all I'm gonna say.

DEDICATION: To Caris L. Clearwater, as always :)

WARNING: No... Um... Computer Jack fans? Oh, and no Brianna fans. Sorry.

Chapter Thirteen: Backbone

"You look so sound asleep,

I can't believe that your backbone's missing

and you never had a clue at all..."

-There For Tomorrow, "Backbone"

Day sixty-three.

Computer Jack was taken today, and we saw our very first riot. And guess what? It was directed at me.

"They just took Jack!' Brianna screamed, standing to her full height on one of the pews, pointing her finger at Astrid. "And it's your fault! Just give up the kid, so none of us'll have to d-d..." And the Breeze was crying. Her tough-as-nails demeanor faded away as she bawled into Dekka's arms.

Dekka also glared at Astrid, as if asking why. Why are all of these kids dying? Why can't you just give your brother up to death?

"This isn't my fault," Astrid said, trying to keep her voice calm. None of what's happening is my fault!" Brianna untangled herself from Dekka's strong arms and stalked towards Astrid, eyes red and bloodshot.

"I loved Jack," she hissed, not knowing that behind her, Dekka's face fell. "I loved him, and he was only a kid. You killed him!" She raced towards Astrid with superhuman speed, hatred emanating from her eyes, but then she was thrown back against the pews. Dekka ran to her side.

"This isn't Astrid's fault. It's none of our faults." Caine came to stand next to Astrid, a cold glint in his dark eyes. "And I know most of you hate me, and I can say with certainty that the feeling's mutual, but you all need to shut up. We're all going to die, and I don't mean like in our grand old seventies or eighties, I mean like in the next couple of days. Now, all of you shut your mouths about Little Pete, Astrid, or losing someone. We have all lost someone already, so quit whining about it, 'cause we'll be with them soon."

Every mouth was open as Caine skulked back to the shadows. "Nice speech, man," Edilio said disbelievingly as Drake raised his eyebrows.

I'm kind of speechless. I just got defended by Caine Soren. Ah, such is the total weirdness of the FAYZ.

o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Day sixty-four.

Brianna was just dragged out of the double-doors of the church.

"I'm not one to make grim jokes," Drake snorted, "but can somebody say karma?"

It was completely horrible, and uncalled for, and I can't believe I did it, but I laughed. At something Drake Merwin said. About someone's death.

That tears it; I have officially gone over the edge.

o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.

Day seventy-eight.

I can't believe I've spent seventy-eight days in this dump!

"We need something to do," Lana announced. "We could... Um... Sing songs?" Edilio snorted with laughter and Drake, in a completely fake monotone, began singing a song of his own composition.

"Oh, we're a bunch of kids, sitting in a church, waiting for our death..." He drug out the word 'death', and Astrid covered her ears.

"Okay, bad idea," Lana admitted.

"No duh." Caine rolled his eyes. "Well, now we know that Drake can't sing to save his life..." The five of them snickered as the corner of Drake's mouth twitched upwards. "Any more ideas?"

Lana glanced over her shoulder to see what the other kids were doing to pass the time. Some were playing cards, some were talking in hushed groups of two or three, and occasionally some kid would bang on the old organ until somebody yelled at him to shut up.

The church itself was in a constant state of disrepair; windows broken from where kids had attempted to make their escape (they had always been brought back, only to be chosen by Nala the next day), piles of human waste (the toilets had stopped working long ago), and the constant annoyance of rats and bugs.

Sometimes, the burden of living from day to day in such squalid, hopeless conditions drove kids to ask a Nala to be taken away, or sometimes, they just did it themselves. One night, everyone had awoken to a sickening crack that came from a thirteen-year-old boy dropping himself, headfirst, from the high balcony of the church to the concrete floor below.

Lana had been too late. And even if she hadn't been, the boy would have only tried again.

314 kids were in the church when this bloodbath started. Now there are only 226. When will Nala ever stop? Will she seriously kill all of us? I know one thing for certain; she'll never get Little Pete.

It's not even me that's keeping him from Nala anymore. If it was up to me, I don't even know if Petey would be among us anymore; every time I witness someone being taken I envision myself running up to stop one of the Nalas, handing her my brother.

No, the real reason Petey's even alive right now is Drake, however it pains me to say.

He still calls him a retard, and every time he does I can practically feel his slaps on my cheek. Practically see his teeth bared in an ugly expression. Practically see him leveling a gun at Sam's chest. But every time I hear whispers about stealing Petey in the night to save their own skin, Drake gives them a look so ice cold I'm sure it stops the whispers dead.

And I can't help but be grateful.

He's saving Petey for his own gain, I'm sure of it. But he's still saving him. Saving him from Nala. Saving him from these kids that are bloodthirsty because of all of their own blood that has been spilt.

Saving him from me.

You know what I like...

Review, please!

:Hyperactive Lioness: