Okay, don't kill me for being a terrible updater. I've been busy, and from now on I probably won't update very often, even if it's summer break. That's a promise. Apologies accepted?

I DO NOT OWN.

Heartbeat

Katie Gardner's POV

Katie was seriously about to lose it.

It had been quiet lately, nothing much happening, and it was driving her crazy. In her mind, it was like the calm before a storm, but this calm had been around for a week. A week! Ever since she found out about Percy's illegal doings when she was nine, she knew that quiet meant bad. Recently, she had found out how so very-much true that was.

Now, sitting on her old bed in her new home—which was still weird and foreign to her—with Percy tap-tap-tapping away on his laptop, Katie went over the numbers again in her head: seven days since the last arrest; six days till Percy's last eye surgery. She was trapped right in the middle of two nerve wrecking situations!

She dared a glance a Percy, asking, "What do you think'll happen?"

Percy didn't even skip a beat before answering: "About not getting arrested? Well, I think you'll be in for a surprise." Then after a moment, he added, "Stop moving. There's no reason to be so jittery."

Her eyes widened. "How can you be so—so calm?" It was more of an accusation than a question.

He shrugged. "I'm used to it."

Katie was about to add more, but she was interrupted by her father yelling, "Dinner!" up the stairs. She gave a sneaking glance at her best friend, and then all worries melted away as they raced down the stairs as fast as they could, bumping and pushing and screaming as they stumbled.

Like normal kids—kids who didn't have to worry about the FBI or CSI or Secret Service barging down their doors at any given moment.

Katie pushed Percy behind her and leapt down the last few steps, landing on her feet and sticking her arms up in the air. "And she sticks the landing!"

Percy snorted, jumping down the last few steps as well and actually sticking the landing. "That's sticking the landing, Butterfly." Then he sauntered off, leaving her awestruck.

"No fair!" she screamed, about to pounce. "I jumped at the last second. You had time!"

He turned at the last second, swinging her around so she landed on her feet in front of him. "Silly Katie, no one has time." Patting her cheek and giving a smug grin, he sped off to the dinner table, only stopping to give his mother a kiss on the cheek.

Fuming slightly, Katie stomped to the table to grab a plate and dish out herself some spaghetti. "It still isn't fair," she complained under her breath, but Percy heard her.

He gave a wry grin, serving himself some spaghetti, too. "Nothing is fair unless you make it," he told her, that weird twinkle in his eyes.

She pursed her lips and sat down, Percy then moving to her side. "Well," Ms. Jackson said, sitting down at one end of the table while her father sat at the other, "I guess we start eating." She clapped her hands together, but Katie couldn't help but snigger at her awkwardness.

Everyone dug in though, savoring Ms. Jackson's delicious cooking.

But, it was really awkward. No one said anything—not even Percy, who would usually start blabbing about something Katie didn't know about.

Eventually, it was her father who saved them from the heavy silence. "So, what do y'all miss most about Alabama?"

She already knew her answer. "Grandpa. The Maroon twins, Marcus and Marianna. The lake that we all used to swim in. The heat and humidity, because it sure isn't like that here. Our old house. Cupcake. The acres that surrounded our house. My—"

"O-kay, Katie, I think we all get it. You miss everything about Alabama. No need to tell us anymore."

She shot her best friend a sharp look. "There's also no need to interrupt me," she quipped. "Besides, it's not like you don't miss all that stuff."

Percy sighed, dropping his fork and holding up his hands. "Fine, fine, you caught me. I do miss all that stuff, especially Marcus and Marianna, and, I'll admit, that I even miss Pops."

"Pops?" Ms. Jackson asked.

Mr. Gardner laughed. "'Pops' is my dad." He shook his head. "It was the first nickname Percy here ever gave out, but it's stuck the longest. I don't think Percy has ever called my dad anything else since he gave out the name actually."

Katie wrinkled her nose. "Even I started calling him 'Pops' sometimes."

Percy laughed aloud. "That's right, Butterfly, you do call him Pops sometimes. Now, if only I can get you to call Bogart Bogart."

"Not gonna happen, buddy. My dad is my dad, not Bogart."

He shrugged his shoulders, that lop-sided grin glued on his face. "I figured it was worth a shot." He went back to eating, and so did everyone else.

She snorted. "Well, it wasn't."

Yeah, this was not how she expected to eat her first dinner with Ms. Jackson.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Katie's jitters were back.

The dishes were clean, and the awkward tension was finally slightly loosening. Her dad and Ms. Jackson were downstairs talking about whatever adults talk about, while Percy and Katie were searching through all her junk for her scrapbooks from Alabama. She was desperate enough to find them that she was ready to dive into her ever-growing pile of dirty laundry. Percy, however, was lying on her bed, typing away again on that laptop. With the way that he was moving the mouse she guessed he was searching through pages of information and typing in codes.

"All in a day's work," he would say—meaning he was doing illegal… stuff. (What? Percy's cussing wasn't gonna rub off onto her. Nu-uh. No curse words for this girl.)

Why, oh why, did she put up with him?

"Agh!" Katie screamed, throwing a green T-shirt at the wall. "I can't find one!"

Percy looked up, cocking his head slightly to the side; his eyes furrowed. "Someone's outside."

"Not now, Percy," she whined. "I still need to find my scrapbooks. Do you know how long it took to make those? I'll give you a hint—forever!" She threw down a pair of jeans and stomped on it. Probably not the best way to release her anger, but oh well.

He slid his laptop off his lap. "No, no, no. I'm not playing with you, Katie." Fingering with his chain, he padded out of her room, sneaking down the stairs one at a time. Katie couldn't help but wonder if mice felt jealous when Percy snuck around and stuff, because when he wanted to, he sure was quiet. Creepily quiet. Following him, she tried to keep quiet as well.

Percy hopped off the last step and slipped past the adults to the front door, and she did the same.

It was really beginning to bother Katie how much she followed Percy around, like some sort of loyal mutt.

Right before they went outside, he grabbed his sunglasses from his shirt (because, for some weird reason, he couldn't let them go) and placed them on the tip of his nose, just low enough so that he could see without the dimming effects of sunglasses.

Then they were outside, and—yep, sure enough, as always—there was a man, smartly dressed in black dress pants, a crisp white shirt, suit jacket or whatever it's called, and black tie trailing down to Katie's nose.

Yeah, they both walked right underneath him.

The man staggered back at the sight of them—or maybe only Percy—and placed a hand by his hip. Her brain began to whir. RING! RING! RING! RED-ALERT! RED-ALERT! RED-ALERT! THIS MAN HAS A GUN! I REPEAT, THIS MAN HAS A GUN!

The man lowered his eye lids. "You," he whispered hoarsely, as if it were the worst thing to say ever. He pulled his hand up from his hip and—oh yeah, there it was—a gun popped up from a secret pocket or something. His hand was shaking violently, and she feared that his hand might slip and whoops! There's one bullet through a head.

Katie seriously wanted one of those suits, though, because they all seemed to have secret compartments.

Focus, she ordered herself. Don't let the ADHD take control.

ADHD sucks, even if it's a very mild case. Or maybe all kids had short attention spans.

Nah.

The man—who, Katie realized, had gray-white hair, a nice build, and intense gray eyes that seemed to analyze her every move—began semi-circling them. He reached his other hand to his ear, saying, "I have Subject One, Violator One right in front of me. Send in back-up immediately." Then he moved his hand from his ear over to his gun. "Hands above your heads. You especially, boy."

She looked over at Percy, who had raised his sunglasses to cover his eyes with a flick of his head, and she could tell he was rolling his eyes so much they ought to pop out. "Sir yes sir," he said in a mock voice while doing a mock bow. "Your will is my command."

Then Percy snorted. "Okay, I'm sorry, dude, but this is ridiculous. C'mon, Ariston, we're kids." He pointed at me. "She doesn't even know what the heck is goin' on." He paused, shrugging his shoulders and holding his hands up, as if he were confused. "See my point?"

The man, Ariston apparently, growled. "First of all, you will call me Mister Howland. Second, any accomplices obviously know of your… jokes, and therefore know that you break numerous amounts of laws on a daily basis."

Percy looked taken aback. "Mr. Howland, I'm hurt at your accusations. I most certainly do not break 'numerous' amounts of laws on a daily basis."

Mr. Howland wrinkled his nose in disgust. "It all depends on what is numerous to a person. According to us, your actions are easily described as numerous."

The "us" part sort of freaked Katie out. Were they some sort of stalker organization?

Percy only shrugged at Mr. Howland's point of view. "Yeah." He nodded his head. "That makes sense. But still, Howland"—the man glared at the improper use of his name—"what are you gonna do 'bout me? Us if you wanna count her?" He jabbed a finger in Katie's direction.

All during the little dispute, she had been watching the body language of both people.

The man was easy to read: Ariston Howland was nervous, shaking like a leaf though he tried to act otherwise, but he was also determined. Katie wondered how many times Percy escaped his grasp. It was obvious, however, that he worked for the FBI or something, a thought not really comforting to her.

Percy… He was a different matter altogether. Although she had known him for years, the only way she could even know the tiniest bit of the thoughts rushing through his brain were by his little antics. Fingering his chain showed that he was nervous; wrinkling his nose at her meant that he didn't like that she knew him so well; rubbing his middle finger and thumb together signaled that he was loop-holing; rubbing his index finger and thumb together hinted that he was attempting to calm himself; and swiping his thumbs over long-faded scars implied that he was remembering, which probably wasn't good, considering many, many, many of his memories weren't exactly kid friendly.

There were, to put in simple terms, a lot of little habits that Percy had, and Katie knew most of them on sight.

Yeah, she was an awesome best friend. There's no need to say anything.

Mr. Howland rolled his eyes ever so slightly, but he quickly stopped—probably because he didn't want Percy out of his sight; Katie hadn't even noticed the man blink, minus the few times that were extra short blinks and his futile winks. "I already told you, child," Ariston started, "that if she works with you, which is highly likely, then she is just as guilty."

Percy opened his mouth comically and placed a hand over his heart, since he hadn't bothered to put his hands above his head; of course, neither had Katie. "But, Ariston," he gasped, "that means that someone reached my level of expertise, and you told me that no one could ever reach the number of crimes I committed." He lips twisted into an evil smirk. "Ever," he whispered.

Percy seriously loved messing with people's heads way too much.

Mr. Howland gritted his teeth, but before he could make a snappy comeback, his back-up arrived. And he said immediately. Please, it took these guys, like, five minutes to show up, and she could see a big black van parked right in front of her drive-way.

Idiots.

Men came jogging up her drive-way, in perfect formation, wearing bulky bullet proof vests and carrying big guns that she was sure would crush her.

Percy was mumbling under his breath, "Kay, twenty guys with fifty caliber sniper rifles and one guy with a pulse rifle, and those are only the guns that are visible against us. We have several semi-automatic guns and one M-4 carbine and SWAT mini K. I don't like the odds. I don't like the odds." He was fingering his chain. It was only then that Katie realized that he did not have his gray beanie on, because, if he was really stressed, he would probably reach under that hat and swipe his hand though his hair before readjusting his beanie, but he wasn't wearing it so.

Mr. Howland waved his hand at his overly large group of back-up. "Stay," he ordered. "And get out of the visual range of the front door. I want to make this quick, and two dozen men dressed like they're heading to war will not make matters short, simple, and sweet."

Ah, the Triple S Rule. She had this strange affinity with it, but Ariston about ruined it by saying what he was doing was sweet. Holding a gun up to two kids' heads is, under no circumstance, sweet.

She stayed silent, however, as the man purposefully stepped up to the front door and gave three loud, hard knocks—knock, knock, knock. Then he stood back, hands clasped in front of him, as he waited.

One Mississippi.

Two Mississippi.

Three Mississippi.

Four Mississippi.

Five Mississippi.

Six Mississippi.

Seven—

The door swung open, revealing her father in all his glory. "Yes?" he asked, eyes widening as he noticed Katie and Percy.

Mr. Howland cleared his throat. "I would like to take these two in for questioning, if that is alright."

Ms. Jackson came up behind Mr. Gardner; she eyed Mr. Howland carefully, sizing him up. Finally, she asked the ultimate question: "Why?"

Ariston smirked slightly, such a small movement that only a trained eye would ever have the chance of seeing, and gave a visibly tight smile. "Well, this young child—your son, I imagine—has just witnessed a crime by one of the, if not the, worst criminal of the world at the present moment. I cannot explain it all, since it is all highly top secret, but I hope and pray that you allow me to question him so that we can catch this villain."

Well, someone deserves an Oscar.

The guy even managed to pull the whole I'm-truly-sorry-for-this-inconvenience look, with his clearly false smile and shining eyes.

Something's just wrong about that.

But, what was even worse was that Percy said nothing.

Nothing.

Not even a single grumble of protests passed his lips.

Ms. Jackson's eyes scanned over her son, bright and wary, but eventually she nodded.

Katie's dad nodded toward her. "And my daughter?" he questioned.

"If possible, we hope we can bring her in for questioning as well, but, because we are all parents here, I understand if you do not allow it." That sly little weasel, trying to sweet talk her daddy!

Her father grimaced, but he nodded, too, and then, after both parents of the supposed "witnesses" said farewells, the door clicked shut.

She stared at the door for a bit, trying to pry it open with her mind and will, but it didn't. It stayed closed. Sighing in defeat, she turned to face the triumphant face of Ariston Howland.

There was a prick in her arm, and then the world began to fade, becoming darker as the black filled her eyes.

What a way to die, she thought bitterly as the world became only one single ray on sunlight, staring at the face of a crazed sadistic man.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Okay, so Katie didn't die like she thought she did.

It somehow started to be a common mistake for her, with all the lethal stuff that Percy, her best friend, did every single dang day. At first, the confusion of thinking she was dead had worried her to no end, but soon she realized that it wasn't as bad as she pictured it to be; it was still awful, but not some horrifying thing that couldn't be helped.

These speculations were swirling around her head as slowly raised her head and glanced around the room.

Oh boy.

It looked like some sort of torture chamber, to her at least, and her nerves were set on edge at the mere notion that it was a torture chamber.

Ignoring her racing heartbeat, she inspected the room, mainly focusing on the drooling boy beside her. She reached her leg out and nudged his kneecap. "Percy. Hey, Percy. Heeeelllloooo…? Is there anybody alive in that body? Wake up!" she whisper shouted at him.

He moaned and tried to stretch out his legs, but they were tied to the front legs of the metal chair he was in. Groaning his protests, he lifted his head from the back of his chair and rolled his shoulders. "This," he complained, "is not cool. Seriously, these people won't even allow me the amazingness of stretching. No stretching after a long car ride? That's cruel and unusual punishment."

She nodded while yawning, though her legs were completely free and not nearly as stiff as Percy's. "I don't think it goes under the category of 'cruel and unusual punishments' though."

He cocked his head to his side. "Yeah, people say that, 'til they get a feelin' of it, and then, let me tell you, this"—he raised one leg for a moment—"will be under that category, 'cause it is that uncomfortable."

Rolling her eyes, she brought her chair closer to his. "Okay, whatever you say, Oh Wise One. Just tell me what we have ta do to get outta here."

Suddenly, the door slid open with a hiss, like one of the creepy metal doors that mad scientists have in movies.

Sometimes, Katie's whole life felt like a movie.

"I don't think that you will be needing that conversation, Miss Gardner, because both of you are not leaving here. At least, one of you will not leave here for a long time. The other—the other will hopefully be gone before tomorrow."

Warning: There is a psychopath in the room.

He goes by the name of Ariston Howland.

"Oh yeah? And what makes ya think ya can keep us here? Have ya ever seen his record?" Was it strange that, of all times, she started her southern accent now? Ignoring her southern drawl, Katie jerked her shoulders up as she attempted to rip off the rope—twine, silk, what was it?—that held her arms behind the chair. "What the heck, man? I wanna get outta here."

Mr. Howland rolled his eyes, taking slow deliberate steps toward them. "I know I can keep both of you here because our organization has every possibility planned out. We can guess your every move, your every word, your every thought. Here, there is no need to expect the unexpected, because there is no unexpected."

This is when Percy popped into the conversation. "Dude, no, no, no, no, no. Just no. I know that isn't true, that it's a flippin' bluff."

Mr. Howland pursed lips. "It most certainly is not a bluff, and even if it was—which it isn't—what could possibly prove to you that it was so?" He raised his eye brows in question, edging Percy to give his answer.

Or to punch him. Katie would love to watch Percy take a swing at the maniac.

Percy smirked a knowing smirk. "Cameras."

"Excuse me?"

"That's my answer—cameras. If y'all know our every movements, then you wouldn't need cameras, would you? Oh, also, I don't think you could guess this chick's every movement, 'cause you've neva met her before today."

"The cameras are simply for precaution, boy."

Percy's nostrils flared. "Please, do me a favor, and stop calling me 'boy.' Truthfully, after all this time, it's become redundant, and you sound idiotic."

Mr. Howland made strangling sounds in the back of his throat. "Do not insult my intelligence, child."

"I can do whatever I wanna. You don't even know my name."

"And you repeatedly avoid using my proper tittle, so I can call you 'boy' or 'child' if I feel like it." Mr. Howland crossed his arms defiantly. "I guess it's not all that bad, actually. At least I'll never have the tittle of man slaughterer."

That set Percy off. "I didn't kill her, and for your information, she isn't even dead. So, keep your trap shut, you little—" Words that her father would've killed her for saying, or even knowing, came spewing out of his mouth, and although she didn't approve of cussing, she had to admit that he had a very colorful vocabulary; he was even using the words correctly.

The whole time, Ariston brows became more and more scrunched together, and his mouth dipped lower and lower at the edges. After Percy's curse word festival, he said, "That was quite a scene, but you both are still staying—until one is forced to leave, that is."

Then he turned on his heels and left without another word.

The door slid shut, and the hissing sound echoed all around Katie as his last words settled down in her brain.

Forced to leave.

She had a feeling the one person was her, just because she didn't have the same record as Percy had with the police. What would she be forced to do, though?

Would these crazed people send her home and expect her to say that Percy was just going to be questioned a bit longer, and then act like nothing ever happened when he never returned?

Would she have to say that Percy ran away, promising to stay away from all people from his past forever?

All the possibilities made her insides swirl and her heart beat faster.

It hurt. It hurt too much to think about.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Katie learned that Percy called them the SSSTNN.

The Secret Service so Secret There's No Name.

She thought it was a little silly, truthfully. The Secret Service so Secret There's No Name? But Percy insisted that that's what she had to call them, because, even though they started chasing him when he was eight—eight!—he had never ever found a name, not even when he hacked into their systems.

After a while, she finally relented, but then she was bored all over again, because they were still tied to their chairs.

Yeah, still.

And the only thing that kept her mind from wandering to her itching nose was arguing. Now, she was attempting to scratch her nose with her tongue, though it wasn't working so well.

Giving up on relieving herself of her itch, Katie turned to Percy, who was strangely calm, considering she was probably about to be sent off before night. He kept on moving his shoulders, as if they were sore, and she could hear little clicking noises, like a nail snapping. Click, click, click.

That was when it finally hit her that he was trying to escape the whole time, unlike herself, who was complaining about boredoms and an itchy nose.

Wow. She was an idiot.

Suddenly, Percy quit moving his shoulders as before, and they slowly slumped against the back of the chair; he leaned his head back on top of the back, which probably wasn't good for his neck. Popping up again, he smiled smugly. "Finished," he said to her, nearly silent. His voice louder than before, he told her, "Now all we have to do is wait for some dimwits to come in 'ere. Then we'll attack."

Katie began nodding vigorously, and he scooted his chair over to hers, slipping a dagger into her grip. He put his mouth up to her, his warm breath tickling her ear. "When they come, cut yourself out." There was a pause, like he was letting the tension become thicker for dramatic effect. "You don't have to kill anyone, but don't hesitate to shoot. These people, they definitely won't. They will kill if they feel they have to."

He leaned back, and she began trying to digest this information.

They won't hesitate to shoot.

They will kill if they feel they have to.

Kill.

She'd actually been in life or death situations before, but Percy was telling her that these people would kill. It made her wonder how he knew, but the way his mouth was frowning told her not to ask.

These people were killers.

The news was finally settling in her stomach when the door hissed open, men and women alike marching in with their guns cocked and aimed.

Katie knew, deep down, that her life would be changed dramatically this night, that she would learn a life-altering lesson, that all hell was about to break loose.

Placing the dagger on her bounds, she cut herself free in one swipe. Percy was standing on his chair, leaping off, seconds from landing, when a bullet came rushing toward him. She held the dagger that he had handed her to escape—a perfect copy of the one he had sent hurtling at Valentin Yakushin—and threw it at the man who had shot a bullet at her best friend. It stabbed the gun and pinned it to the wall.

For seconds—or years, Katie couldn't tell—there was silence. Then, all at once, the entirety of the SSSTNN held up their guns to their eyes to aim… and shot.

The sound was deafening—dozens, or even hundreds, of guns going off at once. But it didn't matter to her; she was practically already dead, with all those speeding bullets heading her way. Closing her eyes, she prayed that death would be quick for her, even if she was way too young to die.

Because, really, there was no way possible for her to survive this one.

Then someone gripped her arm, a harness somehow wrapped around her, and she was rising, rising, rising. Someone—Percy, she realized with a start—was cussing in her ear. "Stupid, Katie! You shoulda moved ya butt!" He ripped out a cover to a vent and shoved her stupor self in. He mumbled some more curses, like what he thought of the people below them.

Pulling himself into the vent too, he made a face at Katie, who was sitting on her knees, her face blank except for her wide eyes. She could tell he wanted her to man-up, but this was the first time dozens upon dozens of people were trying to kill her; Valentin tried to kill her, yes, but she didn't count that because she knew they both had a chance of survival. There was a chance; now all the odds were stacked against them, and Katie couldn't quench the fear in her. It showed too, because with every sound of a bullet hitting an object, her breath would hitch. Then more bullets were shot, and it was all she could do not to cry.

"Stop!" a voice shouted finally. "Stop! They're not here! STOP!" People ceased fire and the voice, Ariston Howland's voice, continued, "Do you see either of them in this room? No! You don't! Because they escaped! Do you hear me—escaped?! She heard the snap of something being thrown to the floor and a crack as a bullet flew out from the object, the gun. The bullet exploded into the vent, grazing Percy's hand that he was using to soothe her.

A pitiful cry found its way past Katie's lips as Percy jerked his hand back.

She closed her mouth as fast as she could, hoping with all her heart that no one noticed.

There was shuffling and whispering below, but she couldn't make out anything particular. Her heart rate slowed, calming at the notion that nobody had heard anything. Then, once again, she felt herself tremble in fear as another bullet shot rang though the air, nearly hitting her in the leg. This time she screamed. Real loud. Loud enough to where there was no hope at keeping hidden.

"Run!" Percy shouted, and then they went through that vent as fast as they could, Katie jumping at every bullet mere centimeters behind them. One after another, bullets made punctures in the metal as they were shot.

Kill.

They were all trying to kill them. Both of them.

She was now on their hit list.

Eventually, when Percy and Katie had left the room where the SSSTNN people were in, barely escaping with only bullet grazes here and there, they climbed—more like fell, actually—out of the vent right in front of the entrance.

Or exit.

The way to freedom.

And it seemed so simple—just walk on out. But, unfortunately, it wasn't that simple.

The catch: The only way to enter or exit was with a key.

The key: A card and eye scan.

When Katie heard this, her heart sank down to her toes, so deep she couldn't even feel it, only hear the thud thud as it pumped blood.

Standing there, in front of the only way for departure, she croaked, "What?"

Her best friend shrugged, pulling down his glasses so he could look her in the eye. "Someone from the inside needs to help us out."

"But nobody from the inside will help us because they all want us dead!" she roared, her vision momentarily turning red.

Percy furrowed his brows, and she could tell he wanted to yell back. But he didn't; instead, he took a deep breath, rubbing his thumb and index finger together, and said, "I think not."

She blinked once… twice… "I think so."

He shook his head. "No, I always make an alliance from someone on the inside. Always."

"Then who?" she whisper screamed, as if she were afraid someone would hear their conversation—which, she was.

"Me." A boy with blond hair and gray calculating eyes walked up to them. Strangely, he was their age, around ten, nearing eleven, and had a happy aura about him that didn't seem possible with the dreary atmosphere. He stuck out his hand. "My name's Sol."

Sol's looks and even the way he held himself reminded Katie of someone…

Percy interrupted her thought process: "Sorry, Sol. I know you're one for proper introductions, but he gotta get outta here." He stuck a thumb behind him. "Your lil' buddies are comin'."

"Did you take out the cameras?" asked Sol, eyes wandering around the area.

Percy nodded.

"Great." Then, Sol whipped out a card and flashed it in front of a small red light. Barely allowing it to beep, he stepped in front of the same light and kept one eye open. The door slid open. "Get outta here. They're just around the corner. Go! Go! Go!"

Katie burst through that door just as the front row of the SSSTNN rounded the corner.

Running, running, running as far and fast as she could; she never looked back.

She never ever forgave herself for that.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Katie finally stopped from her slow jog.

Her breaths came out in short raggedy gasps as she tried to fill her lungs, but she knew her lungs wouldn't be satisfied until she stopped bending over; the stitch in her side really didn't want her to stretch, though. Recalling a trick Percy, her best friend, a taught her, she straightened her back and placed her hands on top of her head; she didn't stop walking, however, in case of cramps in her legs.

Slowly, her breaths became deeper and her heart rate stopped its light and fluttering thumping. She didn't know how long she had run—miles—but she felt pretty darn proud. Circling in place, Katie couldn't find Percy anywhere, meaning she had kept up her endurance longer. Usually the twig that called himself living could outdistance her, though she was faster when she really tried.

She circled one last time before plopping down on the ground to wait for him, thinking long and hard about the day.

A grin grew on her face as she thought about how they had ruined Ariston Howland's plan: Even though she was leaving, she had brought along Percy with her.

Then her grin slipped off her face as she remembered how the SSSTNN people had attempted to murder her—how eager they were to do so.

Kill.

These people… they killed, and Percy probably knew because he had witnessed a murder.

Or maybe they tried to kill him, the un-killable.

Katie gave a nervous chuckle at the thought. Where was Percy anyway? It would usually take him less than the time she used for her break for him to run two miles. Had she run more than that? She highly doubted it.

Then, a thought struck her:

"At least, one of you will not leave here for a long time. The other—the other will hopefully be gone before tomorrow."

Kill.

One will be gone.

No one ever mentioned anything about leaving alive.

Katie felt like an idiot.

The SSSTNN was going to kill Perseus Jackson.

And if Katie didn't move quickly, they might succeed.

Suddenly, she was up on her feet and was sprinting in the general direction that she had run from.

Because she was returning to a place she might not ever escape again.

If she did ever manage to leave, it was through death.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Katie's feet were a blur.

Even in all the moments where I was about to die, I never moved this quickly, she noted as she pumped her arms and sucked in breaths of air through her nose.

It was true, though.

Now—now Katie was more desperate and willing to do anything than ever before.

And she meant anything.

She'd prefer not to kill… but desperate matters call for desperate actions, and this was a desperate time.

Katie. Was. Not. Going. To. Lose. Her. Best. Friend.

She was nearing the door, and she whipped out her gun from her pants, aiming it and shooting. The system got a brand new bullet for dinner, and the wires sprayed racing electricity. Placing her shoulder to the door, she barreled her way inside, gun flying all over the place as it spit out fatal bullets. "Stand still!" a woman shouted, holding her own gun out.

Katie ignored her and randomly shot her gun, hitting the woman in the shoulder. "Move it!" Then she shoved her way past the shocked woman, who was staring at her blood covered hand.

Hopefully, the woman wouldn't die from blood loss.

Also ignoring the urge to check up on the lady, she continued running down every hall, bursting into rooms to find her best friend.

Empty.

Empty.

Empty!

She felt herself begin to hyperventilate more at every abandoned room, and her soaring hopes that she would find Percy were rapidly digging their way into the dirt. "Where? Where? Where?!" She was growing frantic. How would she find the specific room that Percy Jackson was in?

Then she saw Sol. With his blonde hair and analyzing gray eyes, he was the image of life-saver to Katie. She had him pinned against the wall in no time. "Where is my friend?" she demanded; she shook his shirt violently. "Where is he?"

Sol held up his hands. "Let go of me"—he pointed an accusing finger at Katie—"and I'll show you," he shouted, because rain had begun to pound the roof.

She nodded and released his shirt so he could show her the way. "It's through the courtyard," he told her, pointing at a door down the hallway. "C'mon."

They burst outside and sprinted through the rain, lightning streaking across the night sky. "There!" Sol turned slightly to the left, where a lone old building stood. "It's where they have the electric chair!"

"Go!" Katie shoved Sol away. "I can do this on my own. I don't want you to get in trouble."

Sol nodded. "Trouble here is fatal." And he veered off, out of her field of vision.

The lightning continued, being the only source of light she had. Thunder throbbed in her ears as it rumbled after every flashing light.

She was close, so close. She was so close she could see a window, and in that window was an obscure picture of a boy in a chair. Passed that window was her goal.

Katie reached for her gun, about to blow the window in, when it happened.

Light, blue like lightning light, filled the whole of the single building.

But it wasn't lightning.

"No!" she screeched, pulling the trigger. The window exploded, and she leapt in.

Inside, a man spotted her, and he grabbed his own gun. "Hey, kid, get out of here!"

Katie didn't even react to the man's words; her world was spinning too much. In front of her lay a limp version of Percy Jackson, scratches on his cheeks still dripping blood.

Anger raced through her veins, and Katie picked up the nearest object, a piece of glass from the shattered window, and hurled it at the man. It stabbed him in the arm, and he stumbled, knocking into a shelf that dropped junk on his till he was hidden from sight.

Tears were streaming down her cheeks as she untied her best friend and dragged his body out of the building. Screaming
at him out in the rain, Katie dropped to her knees and felt for a heartbeat.

Checking his wrists and neck first, she felt her soul crinkling into a little ball of despair.

No heartbeat.

Cautiously, she laid her head onto his chest.

No heartbeat.

There was nothing.

Nothing because he was dead.

Katie stayed there at his side, feeling his body cooling like all dead people, frozen in shock for minutes from the inevitable information before her.

It wasn't possible, was it? Percy Jackson wouldn't just die, would he? Because it wasn't possible to kill the un-killable. No, it was, because he was reckless. A reckless, selfish idiot who was dead.

Dead.

"You idiot!" she screamed, pounding his lifeless body on the chest. "Why did you do it?! Why take the risks?! How could you be so stupid?!" Her breaths became deeper and her heart rate increased from anger—anger at Percy. Standing up, she accidently kicked a random Taser that Sol probably dropped, and it sailed through the air and touched the tip of Percy's fingers.

Now, because he was wet, the electricity soared across his whole dead body, engulfing him in blue-white sparks.

Electricity.

Katie felt like the imbecilic one. Wasn't electricity how doctors brought back the dead?

With that in mind, she held her breath and waited for the boy to suddenly wake full of life, but, again, there was nothing.

Stomping her foot then sinking back down to her knees, she shouted, "I hate you Perseus Jackson! I really, really do!"

Raising her fists again to pound the dead body, a hand reached out and held hers. "Ow, Butterfly, that hurts," a voice moaned.

Katie Gardner said nothing. Did nothing.

"Why're we outside in the rain? Not that I don't like it, but you usually don't." The voice was slurred and sleepy, as if the person it belonged to was confused. A hand shook her leg. "Huh, Butterfly?" A pause. "Are you okay? Ya look like you're in shock or somethin'." The voice was male, but of a younger person.

Just when the news of his death finally got through, I have to process the news of him being alive, she thought dumbly.

Alive.

"You're alive!" She laughed and yanked him up.

Percy cocked his head to the side. "Yes, I'm alive."

"With a heartbeat and everything!"

He placed a hand to his heart. "With a heartbeat and everything."

Acting on instinct—and instinct only—Katie pulled Percy into a hug, placing her head onto his chest, feeling the thump, thump of a beating heart. Of a living person.

She hadn't even noticed the tears of relief dropping one after another off her face. Percy, however confused he was, squeezed her tighter. "Hey," he whispered, "it's okay. We're both fine."

Thump, thump. That heartbeat—the one that, for a moment, didn't exist—comforted her, but the image of his dead, limp body was still etched into her brain; it was seared there, like a scar that lasts forever. "You were dead," she mumbled, chocking on a sob.

She felt his body stiffen, and more tears fell from her face, mixing with the ones from the sky. Just enough for her to get his message, he tightened his hold around her body. "Hey, hey, what do I always tell you? We'll be fine, and…?"

"You'll never ever leave me without a goodbye." Then she added, "Even if it's not a proper one."

"That's right. Now let's get outta here. Quick."

Katie sniffled, wiping the water from her eyes. "But they think you're dead."

Percy gave the smallest of smirks, but it didn't reach his eyes—no, his eyes gave a warning. "They won't think I'm dead for long."

"Because you, Perseus Jackson, are the un-killable."

DONE! And over seven thousand words! I hope you all enjoy and forgive me for my awful updating habit that I've grown.

Review, favorite, follow, whatever you please.

Peace and all that other stuff.

~XxxXGreek GeekXxxX