Author Comment

Recommended Playlist:

My favourite chapter so far – possibly that I've ever written. I love action and this was bloody difficult to write given the number of people running around. I do love them all, rest in pieces.

Within Temptation – The Howling.

Kasabian – Take Aim

Rage Against the Machine – Killing In The Name Of

Chapter Eight

Side Road, Highway 11, Brookfield Reservoir 1.28 p.m.

Thursday 25th September 2008.

It was their big opening number.

In her mind a map had opened up, a bird's eye view of their immediate area. All around her markers shifted impatiently in their positions, yellow for canine, red for human, blue for the impending storm that sat just on their not too distant horizon. She tracked behind closed eyes, head only just in the game as they began to move as soon as the clock struck half past, watching their movements through their eyes, Shane's surroundings filling her vision, from the discomfort of the passenger seat of her baby, she crunched through the undergrowth, machete in hand, monster of a canine at her side, her own Axel's wet nose resting against her knee from where he sat in the foot well. She'd told herself throughout the night that it'd all be worth it in the end, the biggest hunt of her life, the largest culling of her clan's career. They swarmed in the depths like hornets, feeding, slaughtering, breeding and changing until they had nearly twice their numbers, maybe even more. Their impending victory relied on her willpower, that of which she had very little. The drip of the tap in the kitchen had almost been her undoing, the smell of coffee and of hard liquor the night before almost tipping her over the edge. But she was still there, dry mouthed and muttering in her insanity, but she'd done it.

In the end, only nine had opted to hunt, Lillian remaining behind with Meredith to 'protect' the house. Lillian wasn't a hunter, she never had been. She was the youngest of her branch of the Aston line and, like Beck, had the gift that allowed her to See. But she didn't See memory or Recall like Rebekah did, nor did she have the aptitude for foresight that Beck was sometimes (rarely) granted with. Lil was blessed with a Sight that paid for their ventures, a power that gave them a far better standard of living than a lot of the men and women they called kin. But it distracted her, all those numbers constantly in her head, probabilities, outcomes, percentages – in the field she'd be a sitting duck if Sight took her, and that made her more of a liability than an asset. And everyone knew it but, in a bid to save face, no one said a thing. Lil would look after Mer and Mer Lil – that was all.

"Five minutes Beck – are you alright?"

"Fine," she muttered, ringing her hands in her lap. "Just fine. Test the radio."

They had more tech than they'd ever used before. The secondary branch of her clan seemed to have made a very recent 'investment', Rebekah able to tap into and flick through various webcams dotted throughout their hunting party, Shane being her most preferred recipient as he didn't seem to move his head as much as the others. The headpiece was uncomfortable, itched her scalp and made her ears ache where it held itself to her head. Every time she moved her world suddenly became out of kilter and, even with her eyes wide open, she was completely blind when out of sync with the signals of the other cameras. But, tapped in, she was everywhere, running with Shane and Ty, in the collar of Ester loping alongside Siv's lanky frame, even perched in a tree near the hot-spot. She'd never been more in tune, though her mind had to work overtime to compensate. After five minutes she found herself already exhausted, and she hadn't even moved. She had a grip on it all though, a handle on the situation for the time being. Things would get wild when shit would hit the fan, but for now – for now she had it in the bag.

"This is Shit-bucket. I repeat. This is Shit-bucket. Copy? Anyone Copy?

"Who the hell came up with that-" Sid muttered through the window, swiping his own headset from Jo's hand.

"Who'd you think," the young woman snorted, scraping her hair back into a loose ponytail. "This is a radio test-"

"I copy."

"Shane," Beck groaned, fingers massaging her temples, "stop spinnin' around for fucks sake. You're doin' my head in."

"Sorry," she heard him say, voice crackling over her headset. "We copy. I've got Siv and Ester in sight on my right, I caught wind of Sid a minute ago but I lost him. Richard can't be far off."

"Why'd that dog have to have the same pissin' name as me-"

"Shut up Sid," Jo muttered, tossing a small, DVD case sized device up to him. "Make yourself useful."

"What the fuck do you expect me to-"

"It's got the canines' positions marked on in yellow. Every yellow icon is one of their dogs."

"They've got trackers in their collars," Beck muttered, easing herself back into Shane's characteristic lope, wincing a little as a small branch whipped back and caught him on the back of his head.

They left Sid to it, the grizzled veteran muttering something or other about their overly technical bullshit hunting methods.

"Two minutes."

"Take roll call," Beck muttered, squeezing the remote in her hand, the hunter switching from a gallop through the undergrowth to a somewhat bird's eye view of the hot-spot.

"Shit-bucket to clan. Sound off."

"Shane and Tiberius copy."

"This is Richard and Ester – we copy."

"Jen and Elle call in – we've got Graham."

"Likewise. Siv and Ester with Tamara. Copy."

"All in guys – good luck."

The home base was plunged into silence, the only sounds coming from the dogs panting in the back, the sound of Rebekah's thumb clicking through her various connections or Sid's fingers tapping against the touch screen to get a clearer picture of their various whereabouts. Beck didn't need to see Jo to know what she was doing, able to feel the vibrations through her seat as the younger hunter fidgeted in her own, crossbow leaping up and down against her knee as she drummed a beat into the floor of the truck with the heel of her shoe. From somewhere in the back a dog yawned, a bird calling in the field outside their immediate world startling the girl next to her, even Axel at her feet. They were all teetering on a knife's edge, stressed beyond belief, acting otherwise or trying at least to cover it up. Sid had been begun humming something or other, though the melody never remained intact long enough for the girls to guess the song. Even their men in the field had gone quiet, headsets devoid of Graham's mutterings or Shane's dry jokes, all of them preparing themselves for what they had to come. The closer they came to the hot-spot the quieter their footsteps became, Rebekah reacting now only to the odd snap of a twig that emanated down her earpiece.

They had six hunters and four dogs in no man's land, two others as back-up and her. She wasn't useless, but she'd be out of action if they were ever called in. She was a pair of eyes to them and nothing more, seeing all, hearing all, absorbing all until she was fit to burst. Every movement was logged, every inch and pixel of scenery mapped into the steadily growing hive of information she had building in her reserves. It was her job; it was what she was good at. There was no room for distraction, no second for eating or toilet brakes and especially no time to quench her undying thirst. It was almost time.

"Pause."

Every single screen she now flicked through had halted, scenes of unwavering forest repeating itself one after another as she checked each webcam with a gentle compression of her thumb against the trigger, a little device now slick with her own sweat. Above her the tapping had stopped, Sid able to keep tabs on every single last one of them now that they'd stopped moving. Rebekah heard Jo adjust her headset, the hunter licking her lips damp as she flicked through the schedule, resetting the watch she'd been given to count up the minutes, every last detail meticulously planned down to the individual second. The plan was bulletproof. They'd made sure of it. They'd accounted for everything, every outcome, every possibility; every mistake had been revised and rectified before they'd even stepped out the front door. Equipment had been checked and rechecked, plans relayed forwards and backwards, times memorised, each and every member of the clan, even Meredith, able to tell one tree from another. They'd thought of everything – everything.

They are waiting. The leaves shiver impatiently above their heads, twigs crunch underfoot. They amass like spirits in amongst the shadows of the trees. You can't tell one from another they are clad so dark. But it's daylight. They shouldn't be out in the daylight. One moves, alters her position, arm outstretched to pierce a beam of light that has managed to force its way through the canopy. It caresses her skin like a friend. They are no longer enemies of the light – they have embraced it.

Everything except that.

Sight released her almost as quickly as it had taken hold. She drank in air greedily, startling Jo at her side, the young hunter's hands cold against her bare arm as she choked back into some sense of life, Sid's belt buckle once more scraping across the metal of the roof as he leant down through the window to check what all the fuss was about. But she was still gone, still suffocated by the weight of her own Sight. It kept coming in waves, her vision faltering from still forest to shifting shadows, the oncoming storm far closer than any of them had ever imagined. She was frozen, her skin, her muscles, her bones – completely cold and set in place. She felt paralyzed inside her own body, unable to move, screaming from within her skin.

"They know we're coming," she spat, "Jo – they're out there. They're moving. Tell them! Pull them back! They're out in daylight."

"Oh for fuck's sake," Sid groaned, pulling himself back up onto the roof of the truck, cocking his rifle with a grunt. "It's gonna' get ugly ain't it sweetheart?"

It wasn't a question – not one that needed answering anyway.

"Jo!" Rebekah hissed, flicking back through her cameras, eyes searching the woods through her friends' eyes in an attempt to find something, anything – hoping with her whole heart and entire being that she'd find nothing.

"Mayday, Mayday! We have orders to pull back. I repeat pull back! Orders are from Eagle-Eye. I repeat Eagle-Eye. Pull back now."

Rebekah closed her eyes against the visor, allowing herself a mildly brief reprieve from the chaos that was currently ensuing across every single camera they had in action. Waves of curses and panicked mutters flooded her through the earpieces of her headset, most questions aimed at Jo who had neither the patience nor the knowledge to answer them. Their carefully laid plans had turned into chaos, the handle she'd had on the situation rapidly careering out of her reach. The panic rising in her gut was sickening, the blood pumping in her ears deafening, even more so than the barks of panicked canines or the screech of one of their men caught out in the field over the set. Their men were scattered, their weapons useless without a clear target. It was bedlam, pure anarchy. And they – they were the fish in a barrel waiting to get shot in their tin can.

"Oh fuck – fuck!" she muttered massaging the bridge of her nose with her fingers, eyes still closed against the imminent storm. "What do we do – what do we do – come on! What are we doing?"

"That's a real moral boost sweetheart," Sid grunted from somewhere above, firing a crack shot into the undergrowth. "Really – carry on – you're getting me all fired up."

Rebekah ignored him, fingers idly fiddling with Axel's ears. "What would they do – what would Jake and Joe do? Come on – you got this. Jake and Joe Beck – what would they do? You know this-"

"Do you want input or-"

"No just-"

She didn't have an answer. She didn't know what her brothers would have done. They would have gone in with more men, they wouldn't have gone in at all – they weren't her at the end of the day. She wasn't like them – she never had been. They were straightforward, logical thinking human beings, Joe probably taking more of a shot at it than Jake because he didn't calculate stats like her youngest brother; he just went on gut instinct and hoped to hell and heaven for the best. But that didn't help her situation. She was just a lost, pathetic, small little thing with no ideas. She lived off Joe's work like a parasite, always consulted his past works, had each and every hunt memorised until she could relay the information without the aid of photographs or written notes. If it didn't come up in the books then – well she didn't have a clue. She'd Seen for them, that had been her job. She'd done her job – not well it should be noted but she did it. But where had it got them? They were scattered like leaves in an updraft and completely disjointed to an almost pitiful level. They'd lost before they'd even started.

"Why are they out in the day?" Jo whispered, hysteria rising in the depths of her throat. "I don't understand-"

"They're old," Beck hissed, the pathway between Reality and Sight now somewhat blurred due to panic. "They can't be fucked with it anymore. It's like they've become immune."

"Helpful darlin' – really helpful. Now if you wouldn't mind-"

"Cram it Sid before I cram it for you," she snapped, hands caressing the trigger of her crossbow. "You're not helping!"

"All I'm sayin' is-"

"Just stop Sid!"

They were silent for a long time after that, none of them really making any attempt at small talk as the panic began to truly unfold. Sid had his job, long ago chucking the tech he'd had in his charge down through the sun roof and onto the back seat, resorting to a pair of binoculars and a shotgun he swore by. He'd crack a shot every now and again as a warning, sometimes a few at a time when things got really bad in the field and he felt like the BSBs (Blood Sucking Bastards) needed a distraction, opening up a chink in their defence for their men in the field to take. It wasn't as bad as she'd envisioned, mind running amuck with all possible horrendous outcomes, their soldiers taking orders from home base as though they were programmed to do so, still as smart, still as fleet of foot as they were before the whole plan went to shit – just that little bit more disorganised. Through her cameras Rebekah watched in silence as their teams fought as best they could, Richard severing the neck of one he held beneath his boot, closing her eyes only as his gargantuan animal Sid began working into its body. She could handle some things, clean cuts, quick ends, but animals tended to make a mess and she wasn't a fan of that. But, best of all – they were winning.

That was until they lost one of their own.

Hunters had a way of thinking, a mantra they lived by that only someone in their profession would be able to handle. When you walked out your front door, you knew there was a chance you weren't ever coming back. You'd walk around your home, touch things for what could be your last time, kiss someone, eat something, read a book – it was all the same. You never knew. But there would always be this cocky undercurrent that came from years in the field, this wavering assuredness that psyched you up, something that actually kept you going. Because they'd all lived this long, and it was always just another hunt. You knew it may be your last, but at the same time there was always the chance you'd live on to work your next job. So when they'd stepped out their front door that morning, they hadn't hugged and kissed and said their goodbyes – that wasn't their way. There'd be looks, some casual touches, Mer and Rebekah even taking a moment out to themselves, forehead to forehead, toe to toe, eyes closed against the big wide world in the hope Meredith wouldn't be returning to Sterling alone. And with that they'd left, the only words coming from Shane as he left them in their truck in no man's land, a deft 'see you on the other side' before he'd taken off into the brush with his brother and his companion in toe. Because they'd all expected to see each other again – at least they'd hoped they would.

Graham went down in their second hour, an unexpected causality of war. He was alone, Jennifer and her dog Elle off aiding Tamara with a veteran pair of BSBs. And he fell at what seemed to them to be one of their last hurdles, the clan having cut up and hacked away at more vamps then they could count, more than they had in their party. And Rebekah had watched in horrified silence as he'd fell, tripped by one and broken by another as they tag-teamed his sorry ass, webcam turning to static the moment his blood had begun to stain the lens. At that moment she'd ripped the tech from her head and thrown it to the ground, though not before she'd had Jo cut his signal. Because he'd screamed in a way she'd heard no man scream before – or at least in no way she allowed herself to remember. Their battered soldiers didn't need to hear that… she certainly hadn't. Sid had gone very quiet after that, forcing the girls to question the relationship between the two men. Rebekah would learn later that they'd been like brothers, and that Sid had drunken himself stone cold a month or so later.

Rebekah breathed heavily, drinking in more air from the crack in the window, passing a bottle of water up to the veteran hunter without a drop so much as passing her lips. Her Sight had gone quiet, but she still didn't trust it enough to sate her thirst. They were two and a half hours in. She felt them slowing, see them faltering, limbs numb with the weight of their weapons, bodies battered and broken from where they'd left themselves open to attack. But attacks came far less frequently, and if so they had more soldiers to jump in and join the fray, a spat more often than not ending up with a full on decapitation as they whittled down their numbers. They'd lost no one since Graham, but Shane had come close, had his cousin screaming down the mouthpiece at him to move, to duck, the biggest BSB she had ever seen flying over his head as he hit the ground, Ty turning on the great hulk of a thing as he set to work into its floundering body, the blonde haired hunter wiping the blood away from his mouth as he brought the machete down across its neck. Beck had turned off after that, flicked to a different station. She didn't like mess.

Jo followed their positions on her pad, doing the math, calculating their odds. She'd gotten smarter since the last time they'd met, and Rebekah was genuinely impressed when she'd taken a quick peak at the notes she'd made in the midst of one of her breathers. She didn't do maths – wasn't her strong suit, but Jo seemed to know what was going on, had it all figured out in her pretty little head. She knew their locations, had plotted the movements of the bloodsuckers across their field of battle. They came in waves of two and three and, by the looks of things; they didn't seem to have many left.

"We've got this," she muttered, tucking her hair behind her ear, genuinely beaming, "I think we've got this!"

They waited for Sid to make a comment, but he hadn't spoken for a very long time. They could hear him breathing; hear him humming to himself, both girls looking at each other rather sadly when he failed to make a snide remark.

"It's almost over," Beck breathed, flicking again through the cameras that still offered her a live feed.

"Speak for yourself," she heard Richard mutter over the headset, the sound of dogs barking in the background making the young hunters jump in their seats.

"They put up a good fight," Siv added, always the man with the compliment, no matter what thing it was directed at. "You have to admit-"

"Stop praising the fucking things," Shane growled, Beck having to flick to another camera as he made to skewer a limbless woman through her stomach, the Seer getting a full on view of the fear and shock on her face before she managed to blink out.

She hated it, hated the fact that they looked human. Without their teeth they were people, girls and boys and mothers and fathers and men and women who'd just somehow drawn the shit straw in life. They didn't choose to be that way, none of them sought out one of the BSBs to take a bite out of them to make them a monster. But here they were as a family, bonding over the mass culling of another clan that probably shared the same sort of bonds they did. But they were monsters all the same, human form or not… it still didn't mean she couldn't see that woman's face whenever she closed her eyes.

"How many more?" Jennifer asked, Tamara muttering something in her other ear.

"I'm not sure-"

"Reassuring."

"Three," Jo murmured, flicking through her notes. "I honestly think we have three-"

"Thank fuck for that," Shane sighed, Beck watching him wipe his face down with his shirt, lens momentarily blocked by stained plaid. "It's about bloody time."

Their men in the field seemed somewhat jubilant, blood-stained faces managing to crack a smile, battered bodies standing that little bit more upright at the news it was almost over. Even Tamara seemed pleased, Beck swearing she saw her smile even if just for a moment. Jo had told her that Tamara hadn't smiled since she'd lost her husband, something that had made the young hunter very sad indeed despite the fact she didn't know the woman at all personally. It had made her think for a long time about all sorts of things, made her take a trip down to the East Wing deprived of the company of her dogs, everyone accept Alistair who'd never once let her out of his sight after the crash. And she'd sat in one of the library rooms, the Alsatian's head in her lap, mindlessly stroking his nose as she settled herself into one of the window seats, a view that had her looking out over the shimmering waters of the lake just beyond the glass pane, wondering if her father would have smiled after her mama's death. She wondered if that was why he'd gone in after her; if, at that moment, he knew he'd never smile again if she'd died and left him behind living. Maybe flames were a more enticing proposition than the thought of a lifetime of indifference – but that was a very dark thought indeed, even for her.

Their collective high didn't last long however, their team at a loss as the final three failed to show. Sid let off another shot and a curse, fired another before sending the bottle of water back down onto the back seat, Jo taking a swig as she tried in vain to calculate the probable positions of the three she was sure still existed somewhere in their area. Rebekah observed her family regroup, Jennifer throwing an arm around Tamara, the older woman dabbing the sweat from her forehead with her shirt sleeve, Siv and Shane greeting each other with a high five and the tightest man-hug she'd ever seen, making her question how either of them could breathe. Richard was wary but still found the time to embrace his younger sister, so glad not to have lost another member of his family to the BSBs. It was his show after all, his plan in the first place. He just seemed glad no one else had died. Nevertheless, their clan did find a moment to gather in a respective silence the minute they realised Graham would not be making an appearance, Jo's hand coming to rest on Rebekah's knee, Sid halting his humming, Axel even quietening down when he caught on to the mood of things. The girls had forgotten that they'd cut the signal, realising only then how many of the men and women they'd observed all this time had been unaware of their fallen comrade. And that hurt – that hurt a lot.

"When did-"

"About a half hour ago."

"Was it-"

"Quick? Yeah."

"Did you see who-"

"It's dead. Jen killed it. You didn't know-"

"I didn't know," Jen muttered, kicking idly at a mound of dirt and leaves they'd managed to churn up. "I'd have made it suffer a bit more if-"

"I know."

"And did you see-"

"I did."

Some of them raised their heads, Siv looking directly into Shane's camera, something the unnerved the Seer in her seated position so far away. No one had dared to look at her directly yet, none of them had even thought about it. But Tom being Tom – he remembered. He'd remembered that although none of them had been there, a mile or so away their little team had had to bear witness to the death of one of their own, unable to help or do anything to stop it. They'd been out fighting their own battles, but Rebekah and Jo and Sid had all fought alongside every last one of them, some more than others, though Sid (even without his tech) probably had it worse off than any of them. He hadn't even got a chance to see, he'd just been forced to listen to the audio feed from Graham's microphone before they'd cut the signal in the front seat. Siv remembered because Siv always remembered – that was just the type of guy Tom was.

"Fuck's sake-" Shane muttered, slamming a knife into the nearest tree, the hunter running a hand harshly though his hair. "Oh Beck-"

"Now's not the time for this," she murmured, Jo offering her a tissue as they mimicked each other in wiping away their own grief. "There's still three left. Fan out in two halves. Will get the job done faster and safer."

"I recommend Jen and Richard take Tamara, Siv and Shane are you-"

"We're good to go."

Jo tapped a few things into the tablet in her hand, scrolling through one setting or another as she changed the colour of the two teams' markers. "That'll do. One head West, the other East and then wrap round North. They wouldn't have gotten behind you."

"I should fucking hope not."

"Rendezvous in about half an hour. If we can't find them then-"

"Doubt we'll find them at all."

The home base team became suddenly obsolete, leaving Sid and Jo to mutter amongst themselves, both hunter and huntress holding a half-hearted conversation through the crack in the sun roof. Rebekah resorted to once again flicking through all of the cameras they had in action, avoiding those that had been damaged, those that offered nought but static and keeping a wide birth from one in particular, a blank screen that still offered a flickering image every now and again, the name GRAHAM buzzing with static in the bottom right hand corner of the screen. She let herself come to rest on his feed only once, nails mindlessly picking at her lips as she waited for a picture. She didn't want to, but in a way it came as some form of closure. In her own way, she wanted to see the last thing Graham would have seen before he'd closed his eyes against death. When the image finally flickered into view she made sure to take a screen shot, saving it to a file on the tablet to show Sid later on, if he was interested. And Sid had been, and later on that night he'd excused himself from their collective mourning to take some time alone to 'breathe' as he put it, though when Meredith had come down from her room an hour or so later she'd asked which one of them had been crying because, in her innocence, she'd said that the noise had frightened away the birds she'd been observing. None of them had really given an answer. And Mer had taken the hint and disappeared rather quickly after that, Rebekah finding her in the East Wing studying human emotional habits from an old volume that was bigger than her. When her family had asked what she'd done, she'd shown them the screen cap, an image of a blue cloudless sky forcing its way through the canopy, of dappled leaves and of beams of light that shimmered with motes of dust. And in the bottom right hand corner Graham's name sat in bold white letters, and none of them said anything more about the subject after that.

"Any word yet?"

"Still hopeful?"

"Aren't I always?"

To Rebekah's relief Sid had begun humming again, and to further said relief she found comfort in the fact that it was still as jumpy and of out of tune as it had been at the start of their venture. They found themselves relaxing at least a little, Jo no longer seated bolt upright in her chair, crossbow no longer her comfort blanket she as surfed the web through someone else's open Wi-Fi gateway, tablet still open to their markers on her knees, fingers flicking through page after page of denim related garments, something that even managed to make Beck smile. She allowed herself a sip of water, the liquid running cool and clear down her throat as it banished away the dust and sand that had clogged her gullet for what seemed like far too long. She split the rest three ways, emptying the contents into three thirsty open mouths as her boys and her old girl lapped at the remains, Alistair seeming to feel a little bit more human after that.

She pulled off the visor, sunlight blinding her as she fumbled with her own screen, rerouting the network connection through the tablet, plugging her trigger into the USB port to allow her to flick once more through the various camera settings. It was a welcome relief to her eyes and her head, Beck combing her fingers through the tangles in her hair, massaging the aches away from her temples. It was all drawing to a close, close enough that she felt herself shutting her eyes for a brief moment.

They're so fast. They don't take bullets- bullets have no effect, Sid's shotgun is useless, only good at blowing chunks from their flesh though that would heal up in no time. One of them rips the gun from his hands, breaks it over their knee. At least they've found the three of them. The clan wouldn't make it. They'd be dead before they got there. The Pack would make it, but they wouldn't be able to kill three of them. We were alone in this. Vision flickers. Jo is on the floor, clutching her side. Blood seeps through her fingers. That's the worst possible thing that could happen. They are driven wild. I plant an arrow in one of their backs and it falls to its knees; Sid takes off its head. But she's not alone.

"Beck? Beck! Beck?"

"Rebekah!"

She came awake with a start, a start that almost had her driving herself into the dashboard. The dogs were barking, Sid swearing as he fired shot after shot after shot, empty gun cartridges falling onto the back seat, the smell of burning powder in the air, thick and strong and collecting at the back of her throat. Jo had returned back to her comfort, tablet on the floor of the truck long forgotten, the girl firing bolts soaked in blood with practiced precision, taking one down in the knee, the other's charging forwards despite looking like flesh coloured hunks of Swiss cheese. Jo looked down through the sun roof when she realised she was awake, giving her a kick in the side to hurry along the process, her eyes wide as the hunter fumbled around trying to rub life back into her legs and ass.

"You were asleep! Why the hell were you asleep?"

"Because I was Seeing this bullshit," she groaned, "you know how Foresight is."

"Yes. Widely unpredictable but-"

"What she's tryin' to say is you need to get your shit together Princess – before we-"

"I am trying' okay! Gimme'a second here!"

It went unsaid that neither of them had a second to spare.

"I hate these fuckin' things," she muttered as she heaved herself up through the sun roof, light blinding her Sight addled eyes as she scrambled to get purchase on the boiling metal.

They dragged Alistair up through the window, the great hulk of a thing needing two of them to haul his furry ass up into the bed of the truck, Jo taking his collar, Beck wrapping her arms round his middle. He was the only one Beck would dare let loose on the things that were still in the process of breaching their defences, the only one big enough to take one on without losing a limb, the only one she knew could survive a one on one and still live to tail the tale. Sky was too old and Axel would be a mouthful, an entrée so to speak in terms of a living, breathing meal on legs. Sid was still blowing holes through them, Jo was still firing bolts left right and centre. Rebekah added her own dollars' worth into the mix, firing her brother's old pistol into the fray, blowing an ear off here and puncturing a lung there. But it just wasn't enough.

Jo wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand, muttering some profanity Beck didn't even realise she knew as one tried to scramble up the side of the truck, the young Harvelle booting it in the face as it made a grab for her left leg.

"How's it lookin'?"

"Are you serious," she laughed, the sound almost hysterical as she sent a metal bolt through an eye, Beck having to avert her gaze. "How do you think it's looking?"

"I mean how many bolts d'you have left," Beck muttered, shoving her pistol back into her jeans, wrapping her arms protectively around Alistair as he snapped at their flailing libs, a vile mix of froth and saliva collecting in the corners of his maw, clinging to his fur, clinging to her clothes and skin as he battled against her. He was a good boy and an even better solider, but he didn't know the meaning of the word 'no' or (even more foreign to him) 'settle the fuck down'.

Jo swore again, crushing a hand underfoot, "not enough if that's what you mean."

"And I'm almost out – just to add to the good news."

"Great. Just great."

You can feel it pumping through your veins, thrumming in your head. It burns you from the inside out, like it's corroding your insides – like acid. And you know where it is, know where it hasn't been yet, where it's touched and where you want it to touch. It never leaves, its always at the back of your mind – a thought that never goes away. You are always aware of it. Always. And you thirst for it, you know you do. You can feel it, clawing up your pipes, raking its nails down your throat, sits heavy on your tongue. You're thirsty but no amount of water will ever get rid of the feeling. But you try anyway because you're a fucking desperate moron, and desperate people try anything. And you've done that – haven't you? Tried everything. Tried water. Tried whiskey. You drank yourself into oblivion the other month because you could feel it. And then it all went away didn't it – and it's gone now… hasn't it? You haven't got that feeling anymore. You're not thirsty anymore. Can't remember though can you – the last time your pretty pink lips stained themselves red. Blank it out Beck – the blood. Took the coward's way out the first time you tasted it. Blocked it. It never happened. They never talked about it again did they? Couldn't look you in the eye for months. But you know, that mutt knows. You remember how it felt, what it tasted like. You were a slave to it, whored off it. Got off on the taste. And then they caught you didn't they? They found you drowning and they just didn't have it in them to pull you out. Jake was going to plant a bullet in your brain – remember that? You never went back after that – or did you? Did you seriously think you could stop – that you were strong enough to get out? You're weak. You always were Rebekah and you always will be. And you know it… don't you.

She opened her eyes.

It was an entirely different scene to the one she'd turned her back on. The sky was heavier, greyer, as though it was about to unleash a torrent of rain. The sun seemed suffocated, lost in amongst the masses of thunderous clouds that had gathered. She hadn't a clue how long she'd been out though, as she found herself adjusting, she began to wonder if she'd even been out at all. Her teeth rattled in her skull as a thunder clap struck from somewhere above her head, rain beginning to stain small pin pricks of plaid dark as she turned her face towards the sky, water running down her feverish skin as the heavens above continued to bay for blood. She could feel Alistair at her side, his tongue between her fingers, nose against her palm. She shifted awkwardly in her stance, rubbed her eyes clear with the heel of her hand, shook her head, cleared herself of yet more black feathers.

"Beck?"

The voice came from behind her though, as she turned, she couldn't decide whether what she was seeing was yet another sliver of Sight or if what had happened had really happened. Logically though, she knew. Jo lay in a steadily growing pool of her own blood, great long gashes raked into her side and abdomen, hands clasped over the wound as though she was trying in vain to hold herself in. Her skin had gone a funny colour, a sickly pale, a pale that Beck didn't like at all. As she reached out to her the girl shifted nervously in the grass, blue tinged lips drawn in a long, thin, agitated line. Beck pulled back.

"Jo-"

Sid was at her side, scooping her up like a father would his daughter. Her head lolled a little in his shoulder, though she never took her eyes off her sister. Sid's attentions seemed somewhere else entirely.

"Do you even see-"

It was only then that she realised where her other hand was – what it was doing. Beck hesitantly turned her head, vision slightly out of focus, noted how her fingers were splayed, her arm outstretched. She could feel it pumping through her veins, thrumming in her head – feel how it scorched her from the inside out, how it set her alight and bubbled in her gut. But she didn't know what it was; only that it burnt like the pits of hell and it wouldn't stop. It squirmed against the metal of the truck, windows smashed through, glass dusting the floor and glittering like a thousand tiny stars. Its body had so many holes in it it was a surprise it was still alive, but they didn't die like that – at least not any one that Rebekah had ever seen. And, as pretty as a necklace, it wore a length of wire around its neck, a strip of metal that seemed to have been steadily constricting for more time than the hunter would care to imagine, long enough that it had dug through the flesh, blood seeping down it's body through its eyes and mouth and wounds. She didn't like mess – but it appeared she had made a very big one indeed.

She dropped it, pulled her arm away, retracted her hand like a gun. It felt as though a massive weight had simply vanished, the thing falling to a spluttering heap at her feet, bent double as it coughed up all manner of things into a puddle by her boots. Her shoulder ached, her head even more so, the hunter having to stem the flow of blood from her nose with her shirt as she took a step back, admiring her handiwork. And it was still there, still humming in her veins. She could feel it niggling at the back of her head, feel it rising in her. It felt akin to anger, but it burnt hotter than anything she'd ever experienced before. And she'd been angry before, so angry her vision had flooded white, but nothing like that. Nothing felt as strong as that.

It dawned on her then the enormity of the situation – what it meant for her. She couldn't look at them, didn't dare to. She was shaking more than she had a couple of days previous, no longer through cold but through something more, wrapping her arms around herself for comfort, Alistair butting her thigh so that she'd remember he was still there. She'd done that to a human being without laying a finger on it – what had been a human being anyway. And it was in pain, more pain than she knew she'd ever experienced, more pain than anything she'd ever seen. The vampire, a woman, shied away from her touch as she knelt before it, Rebekah cupping her cheek, digging her fingers beneath the wire to loosen it. It'd probably do more harm than good, but that didn't even come into calculation. It was a matter of principal more than anything else. The noises she made were guttural and turned the hunter's stomach, made her feel sick beyond that of a hangover. She gurgled and grasped at her bleeding throat as she struggled to breath, Beck taking a step back, reaching into the bed of the truck, the creature always in her peripheral as she pulled the knife from her knapsack, fabric spattered with blood and oil from the day's proceedings. She didn't look when she brought it down, she just trusted in the fact it wouldn't move. It didn't.

She stole another look at Jo as she threw her weapons back into the bed of her baby, saw the look on her face, knew the look – had seen it before. Jake would have shot her, she knew that. She'd asked him too. Visions like hers always came true no matter what you did to change them. If it said you would turn right and you'd turn left to spite it you'd always end up turning that right at the end of the day. Same came with lives, with loves, even with loss. If it was going to happen it'd happen, there was no changing that. She had Seen Sid's gun get destroyed and it had happened, it lay a few feet away, shattered into pieces, bent metal and fractured shards of wood nothing more than toothpicks and nails in the hands of one of the BSBs. And she'd Seen Jo get all torn up and bloodied and hadn't done a thing about it, hadn't even told her, couldn't even bring herself to. What was the point? It'd happen regardless of what any of them would try to do. And it had happened, and she was ill and on the edge. It wasn't bad enough that she wouldn't pull through, but she'd be out of action for a long time. Visions were all the same, they told the truth even when you'd buried it a long time ago. It just so happened Jo had seen what Meredith had not and, in Beck's mind, she was going to keep it that way.