The safe-house neared closer as the sun began to rise over the desert horizon that seemed to go on forever. The car drove along the dusty plains, and the house seemed to glow in the morning sun, a sparkle in the bland landscape.

The entire group was silent, not wanting to speak about what they had witnessed at the Drac hideout. The silence hung in the air like a cloud of sorrow. Crimson had fallen asleep, resting her head on Ghoul's shoulder. She had not let go of his hand for the whole journey.

Flame remained wide awake though. She couldn't get the image out of her head. What could have done it? It wasn't killjoy doing, that she was certain of. But then what could it be? There hadn't been animals for years, so … what?

She was awoken from her trance by Jet Star's voice,

"We're here everyone," he said loudly as the car pulled to a stop, dust clouds billowing up as the wheels stopped turning. Crimson woke with a start, sitting up, but then calming down once she realised who she was with.

The group hopped out of the car into the hot desert sunlight. The heat was intense, even early in the morning, so they hurried along the hard ground to the shining safe-house. In reality, it was just a dusty old building, but for some reason to the group it looked like heaven. It had been so long since they'd had somewhere they knew they would be safe.

The interior of the safe-house was small, with only four rooms, a main area that doubled as a kitchen and dining room, a bathroom, a main bedroom with one mattress, and a spare room that had six hammocks.

As soon as they walked in, they began to work. Jet Star was at the stove in a flash, cooking up cans of beans for them all, Flame and Kobra were sitting at the large plastic table, looking over a map of the Zones, seeing where the next couple of Drac hideouts were, Ghoul was making sure the water was running, and Crimson was setting up the sleeping areas.

After a couple of minutes, Jet called the group over to the table where Kobra and Flame were already seated.

They were gathered around the small, plastic table, spooning their canned beans into their open, eager mouths. They were hovering over a map of the Zones.

"So there are twenty four Drac hideouts in total," Kobra said, pointing at the X's marked on the map, "But we've already ... covered one ..."
The whole group shuddered at the memory of the white floors soaked in the crimson blood, the eyes of the Drac's staring blankly at nothing. Crimson seemed to be the most disturbed out of all of them.

Kobra and Flame continued to discuss tactics as to which Drac camps they would be going to next. Jet gathered up the dirty forks and empty cans of beans and washed them, throwing the cans into a plastic bag that substituted as a garbage. Crimson disappeared into the bedroom, shutting the door softly behind her.

Ghoul walked into the bedroom a couple of minutes later, only to find it empty. The door that led outside, however, was slightly ajar, so he assumed Crimson had gone outside for some time alone. He didn't want to bother her, so he slipped off his shirt, laying it down on his hammock, and proceeded into the bathroom for a shower.

However, as soon as he walked into the bathroom, he realized he was not alone. Crimson was sitting in the corner of the room, tears streaming down her pale face, and a photograph clutched in her small hands. She looked up as he entered the room, her big, red-rimmed eyes widening at the sight of his bare, tattooed chest, but she didn't speak. Ghoul walked over and sat down next to her.

"She was my sister," Crimson sniffed, motioning at the girl in the photograph, who looked to be about twelve or thirteen. She looked like a younger version of Crimson. They both shared the same big green eyes and beautiful smiles. But where Crimson had black and red hair, the girl had dirty blonde hair down to her chin.

"She was called Alteration Lover," Crimson continued, choking back the tears, "We were running together. She was thirteen when this photo was taken,"

"What happened to her?" Ghoul asked, his voice suddenly quiet. He was afraid of the answer.

"The S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W unit," she sobbed, clutching the picture so hard her knuckles turned white, "I remember it so vividly ...

"We were running," she began, tears spilling silently down her cheeks, "The S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W was after up, and we were trying to reach the nearest safe-house. But she was exhausted, and we still had miles to go. She begged me to let her stop, to wait while she caught her breath. And I let her. I waited a couple of meters ahead for her.

"But it appeared so quickly, like a flash of light. I didn't even have time to call out to her before she fell, blood seeping from the gaping hole in her back. The S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W unit retracted its arm, and it glistened with blood. Her blood. I pulled out my ray gun and fired. It hit the S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W point blank, and it collapsed, disintegrating into ashes as it fell.

"I carried Alteration all the way to the safe-house. I remember how ragged her breathing was, so rough ...

"I held her in my arms once we were safe. The last words she ever said to me were, 'Don't worry, Crim. I'm going to see the birds. How beautiful they were. I'm glad we'll be together soon,' and then she was gone. She was only fourteen,"

Crimson Pixie broke down, sobbing hard into Ghoul's bare chest. He held her close as she cried. He understood now. He understood why Crimson had been so horrified when they had encountered the scene at the Drac camp. He also understood how the Drac's had died. But what he didn't understand was why? Why would the S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W turn on the Drac's? That was what he couldn't comprehend.

Crimson stopped sobbing after a few moments and looked up to stare into Ghoul's hazel eyes. A silent tear fell from Crimson's green eye. Ghoul brushed it away with his thumb, his hand lingering on her face. Even though her face was red and her eyes bloodshot from all the crying, she was still the most beautiful being he'd ever laid eyes on.

Ghoul leaned in and Crimson tilted her head, both closing their eyes. Her breath was warm and sweet on his face.

And then the distance was gone. Their lips met in the softest and sweetest of touches. But there was no denying the power that lay behind that kiss, the power that tingled through both of their bodies. But also the loss. Loss and gut-wrenching sorrow flooded the kiss, making it almost unbearable. But they didn't stop. They let the pain and the sadness wash over them and cleanse their souls. As they held each other close on the cracked and broken tiles of the bathroom, they knew then that with each second they spent together; their broken hearts would begin to stitch back up, piece by piece.

But they knew they'd never be fully healed.