It's still going to be really boring in this chapter. I had a lot written for this story before I posted it, but it's stuff I did a SUPER long time ago. So, this has been collecting dust in my documents for quite a long time. It's another reason you'll have to bear with me on the monotony.

If I was just now writing everything, it wouldn't be this way. As it is, I would rather post what I have than try to re-write it all.

Sorry :(

Equinox

Chapter Three

Dylan grunted, swinging onto the beam beside me. I crouched with my head low, maintaining a stable balance. He copied my position, squinting at me in the dim light. High into the vaulted ceilings there was no illumination, just the crisscrossing network of wooden structures. It was the ideal place to conceal alternate entrances and hidden alcoves. They were nearly impossible to find, even if you knew what you were searching for.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" he inquired, for what seemed like the hundredth time. At this point, I couldn't blame him. Even I was second guessing myself, which didn't happen a lot. Trust me.

"Yes," I hissed anyway, my brown eyes narrowed and glaring. "It's here somewhere. I know it is. Obviously, I don't routinely use other means of entry," I added spitefully.

He snorted in contempt.

I went back to ignoring him; something I was very good at.

Sighing inaudibly, I proceeded to crawl down the straight beam. The further I went, the harder it became to see. That was good. It meant we were getting closer to something of interest. Relying on nothing but memories, I slid a few more meters before pausing. Biting my lip, I rotated my head around in order to get a better view of what was before me. In the dark, I could only discern vague shapes.

"This is ridiculous, let's-" Dylan complained.

"Dylan. Shut up," I commanded. He obeyed, though whether that was due to my tone of voice, or his contempt at my words, I wasn't really sure.

I grinned suddenly, reaching out blindly with one hand. My fingers ran across the rough, gritty wood of the support beam. It formed the shape of an 'x' alongside another, and between the space below them, the silver of a door, partially disguised as a heating duct, was barely visible.

"You should have more faith in me," I reprimanded my companion, before tugging on the handle. It eased open with a sigh, blowing out a cool, musty breeze. I wrinkled my nose at the stench.

Dylan blew out a heavy breath. "Yeah, I guess I should."

I rolled my eyes, before proceeding to shimmy my way into the compact space. The four walls were pressing down on me from every side. Each of my shoulders brushed against the icy metal, and my hair rustled where it slid across the ceiling. Clouds of dust rose from everywhere, the force of our breath stirring the long resting cover. Behind me, Dylan sneezed loudly.

A few paces later, we slid out into a much larger space. The floor separated another foot or so from the ceiling, giving us more walking room. I had to arch my back awkwardly, with my neck hunched in an uncomfortable way. Last time I had been exploring up here, I had been significantly smaller.

"How is this even possible? How does Anne not know about this?" Dylan asked insistently. The awe in his voice was barely suppressed, and I could tell he was marginally impressed with my knowledge.

"There are plenty of things Anne doesn't know. Things only one person ever did. Excluding me, of course," I explained, running a lone finger through the dust caking the wall. I could feel the pressure of it swirling around my hand and through the musty, thick air.

After a thoughtful moment, Dylan resumed his questioning. "Would that other person be your father?"

I swallowed, refraining from answering. He knew.

"Max," Dylan said, a note of compassion in his voice. "He did good things."

I snorted in contempt. "Yeah, and now he's dead."

"I know. But you never talk about him, and it's not good for you. I-"

"Dylan. Drop it," I ordered harshly, actual venom seeping into my tone. When concerning the matter of my dad, I didn't necessarily feel up to sharing my emotions. He had died years ago. I was fine. There was nothing else to it.

Blissfully, not another word was spoken between the two of us for the remainder of our venture. The hollow thumps of our footsteps echoed dramatically through the ever-expanding vault before us. Other than the occassional cough or sneeze, nothing else.

It was just that, Dylan was all empathetic and caring. It was annoying. Appreciated, on certain occasions, but mostly annoying. He was all for expressing your feelings and not bottling anything up inside. What a girl.

"Here we are," I announced suddenly, coming to a halt. Not anticipating my movement, Dylan continued walking right into my back. I stumbled a step, bracing our combined weight. He mumbled a quick apology, righting himself as best as he could in the confined area. It was too dark for him to see my glare, but I'm sure he was getting my hostile vibes.

"Here is . . . where, exactly?" he inquired, dipping his head closer to mine.

I stifled a sigh, turning my shoulder. "You ask an awful lot of questions, don't you?" I reciprocated, running careful fingers over the lock I cradled in my hand.

"It's part of my charm," he answered with the shuffle of a shrug. I could imagine he was wearing an incredibly smug look, as well. "But really, where are we?"

After rotating the dial a few times, I waiting impatiently for the sound of a click, relying heavily on my memory. It hadn't really occurred to me until just then, that I might have forgotten all the combinations. My doubt dwindled into nothing, though, as the tumblers inside the mechanism began sliding into place. With a barely audible hiss of disuse, the door groaned outward.

"Pick your poison." I gestured grandly, grinning in triumph.

The weapon's room was something of incredible novelty. Probably considered the pride and joy of most hunters. Anything sharp or destructive -and I mean anything- could be, most likely, found here. From the mundane to exotic, anything you needed to chase down a paranormal was within reach.

It was the size of a warehouse; all cold, gleaming metal. Shelves towered to the ceilings, displaying all sorts of weaponry.

Normally, you entered from three distinct vantage points. One from Anne's personal office, another from the disguised cleaning closet we had attempted to enter from, and the third playing as a bathroom near the housing quarters. Each required a certain code. If you didn't know the password, there was a good chance you weren't supposed to even be in the building in the first place.

Or they were just trying to ruin your fun, which I was quite familiar with.

The entrance we had taken, however, was considerably less accomodating than the others. You know, since they were on floor level . . . and at the moment we were on the top of one of said towering shelves. Heights, on the other hand, had never bothered me.

"If you think I'm jumping off this thing, you're wrong. I'll break every bone in my body. You'll break every bone in your body," Dylan grumbled, folding his arms across his muscular chest, while he glanced disdainfully downwards.

I snorted, shooting him a disbelieving look. He raised an eyebrow in response, as if daring me to argue that it wasn't a plausible warning when concerning me. I shook my head at his expression, fighting the urge to roll my eyes. Then, to prove I wasn't as crazy as he thought, I hopped over to the edge of the shelving unit . . . and dropped out of his sight.

"MAX," he hissed in panic, diving over to where I had disappeared. His golden locks flipped haphazardly into his eyes, vibrant color flaming up his neck. The muscles in his arms were tense as he gripped the edge.

"What?" I questioned coyly, sarcastically gaping up at him. His expression darkened instantaneously, as I gripped the rung of the ladder I was resting on. "Did I scare you?"

"Just go," he spat sullenly, lowering himself down above me.

I stifled a laugh, biting my lip to conceal the smug smile I was harboring. "Were you worried about me?"

"You've got some nerve," he muttered under his breath, but the words traveled easily to my ears.

"Did you think I had jumped to my untimely death?" I teased, recalling the image of his beet red face, eyes alight with horror.

"Oh, shut up," he commanded, 'accidentally' stepping on my hand. The little baby. Though, I guess it wouldn't be as much fun for me if he could actually take a joke.

Despite my joy at seeing him squirm, I ceased my mocking. An embarrassed Dylan wasn't good for hunting. He'd just be distracted, intending to find an insult in everything I said to him. You couldn't catch a thing with him all hostile and moody-like. He'd send every paranormal within a ten mile radius fleeing.

When my feet touched the floor, I immediately went on alert. Most hunters would be gone already, but you never knew who could be lurking in the shadows. Fortunately for us, Anne was too prideful of her security to suspect us of breaking and entering.

Dylan nudged my shoulder, indicating the direction he was going. I nodded, already heading off to a different area. My braid swung behind my back, as I stalked purposefully towards the wall. Brightly lit displays hosted a large collection of knives. I slung a few perfectly sharpened ones into my belt, before stocking up on other essential items. Wooden stakes, shots of Holy water, silver bullets; the usual.

When I turned back towards where I had come from, Dylan was swinging around the corner. He had put a black leather jacket on, and a tube of arrows was strapped around his torso. There was a serious look in his turquoise eyes, one that had previously been masked by the dullness surrounding us.

"You ready to go?" he asked.

I smirked. "So many questions. Why don't you start talking less, and doing more. Now, let's get out of here. We have some monsters to kill."