The decision to kill Schultz weighed heavily on Justin's mind. The fact he was doing it to ensure the colony's future, the lives of his friends, didn't make him feel any better about taking someone's life. On the night he'd fought Jenner, there hadn't been time to think about his actions, he'd just done what he'd had to; but Schultz was different. The thought rolled in his head for hours, exhausting him not only mentally, but also emotionally. There appeared no easy way to get to the helicopter, as there was always someone nearby. The minutes of night crept on, their window of opportunity shrinking as well.

"What's on your mind, chief?" said Max.

The voice startled him. Justin had been sitting at the base of a tree, lost in thought.

"I'm thinking our time is running out," he said quietly. "Is there still nothing?"

"There's just one guy, now," Max told him. "He was fueling the chopper, kinda checking everything else now. He better hurry up, though. I mean, what're we gonna do if we can't get to that bird?"

"I don't know, Max," said Justin. "I don't know." He sighed, and there was a long stretch of silence before he spoke again. "It's a hell of a thing to kill a woman."

"Hey!" Pollux waved his hand. "Hey, he's gone! They're all gone!"

The rats leapt to their feet, running to the spot. Sure enough, all Schultz's men had vanished into their bunks. If someone was supposed to be on duty, then they were slacking off.

"I think I've got an idea," said Dietrich, and the others looked his way. "That thing has an electric ignition, right? All we have to do is cut the fuel line, then when the ignition sparks, it'll light the gas and boom."

"That's a good idea," Justin told him. "The only problem is that it has to light while there's still plenty of gas in the tank. If it's cut too early, they'll notice the leak."

"We don't have much time as it is," said Max.

"He's right, Justin," said Pollux. "It's now or never."

Justin sighed. "All right, dammit," he said. "Let's go."

The rats and Ages ran across the open field, the grass covered in dew, and stopped before the helicopter. Their seven AM deadline was coming close, and they stared up at the hellish mountain face. The size alone was staggering, but the hope they could sabotage it started looking impossible.

"What're we looking for, Dietrich?" asked Justin.

Dietrich pointed toward the top. "I watched them messing with it earlier," he said. "It's a panel that opens up, and inside's the fuel line."

"Okay then, let's go take a look. Max," he turned to the big rat. "I want you and me to go up there. If anything happens," he looked to the others. "I want the rest of you to hide, get back to our spot, if you can. Just don't let anyone see you."

The firmness in his voice silenced any protest that might have come from them.

"Okay, Max," he took a deep breath. "Let's do this."

Max nodded. "Gotcha."

Taking a customized crossbow, he aimed just above the top of the chopper. It'd been mounted with an arrow that had rope tied to it, and he pulled the trigger. The bolt flew in a tight arc, bringing the rope up with it. The black cord sped from its coil, coming to a stop when the arrowhead slammed into the ground on the other side. Pollux rushed over, setting it more firmly into the soil. Justin and Max pulled on harnesses, then began pulling themselves up.

The ground fell slowly away as Justin climbed and, once he was high enough, he turned to brace his feet against the surface. The freezing metal was the most unnatural thing he'd ever experienced, and walking on it felt more like walking on some alien world. The experience was quite unnerving. Max hoisted him the last few inches, and the two detached themselves from the rope. They glanced around the upper structure, looking for the panel Dietrich had talked about.

"Here it is," said Max. The latch was easy enough to open. The panel lifted, a small pole coming down to keep it in place. There was barely enough room in the depression for them to climb inside.

Justin took a small hose in his hand. "This must be the fuel line." He squeezed it, feeling the pressure of the gas within. "This shouldn't be that hard."

Suddenly, Schultz appeared on the pouch, front door slamming behind her. Her top man Valentine was close behind.

"What are you doing?" he asked. "It's early."

"I don't care," Schultz told him. "I'm tired of waiting. Is the chopper ready?"

"Yes, but…" he was hesitant, unsure what to say.

The rats scattered, retreating as quickly as they could. The house was close, Schultz practically right on tip of them. Max and Justin peered over the side, seeing the woman advance on them.

"Shit," Justin hissed. He looked at his partner. "We're not gonna make it!"

"You are," Max forced Justin's harness back on the rope, shoving the rat over the side before he could figure out what'd happened. Justin didn't have time to think about it. For a moment, he didn't even realize he was harnessed to the rope, thinking Max had just shoved him over the side. He came to his senses in time to slow his descent, landing hard in the grass. He could see Schultz's boots approach from the other side. He felt the rope go slack, saw it fall to the ground, then he heard the small sound of a hatch closing.

"Max!"

Just as was about to run, Schultz appeared, and Justin quickly slipped behind a support strut, hiding himself from view.

Max had given him enough time to reach the ground before cutting the rope. He climbed into the hatch, bringing the door shut behind him. He felt around for the fuel line in darkness, striking it with his blade. The gas sprayed, splashing in his mouth, filling the air with a suffocating odor. He all but choked on the revolting taste. He just hoped Justin had had enough time to get away.

Schultz paused at the chopper, thinking she'd heard something strange. She glanced at Valentine. The man stood on the porch with a blank expression on his face.

"We're going, now," she sounded irritated. She turned away, waving her hand. "Get the gear."

She glanced at her watch before climbing inside, preferring the right side to the left. She fastened her seatbelt, powered up the chopper, then hit the ignition. Sparks erupted, sending a trail of flame straight to the fuel tank, the explosion screaming to life within the metal beast. Glass shattered, twisted metal blowing apart as a fiery roar ripped the chopper apart. The sound was a high-pitched shriek, combined with a massive clap of thunder. The blast lifted the chopper, pushing it forward, throwing it into a mangled heap. Flaming shrapnel flew aimlessly, several burning chunks plunging into the farmhouse windows.

Justin had fled the instant the door was shut, and the shockwave hurtled him through the air, dumping him into the dirt. He looked back to see a huge fireball, shrapnel and cinders still raining down on him. The explosion had destroyed the back, tail hanging loosely from the rear, the cockpit nothing but a shell, all shrouded by smoke and flames. Close behind it, the house was still being pelted by the burning debris, and in a few seconds, the dry curtains caught, a quickly growing blaze visible from within. Schultz's men were soon everywhere, confused looks on their faces, searching frantically for a fire extinguisher.

"Max…" Justin was delirious, getting up to head toward the burning aircraft. "Max!"

Dietrich held him back. "Justin, stop."

"Justin, don't be foolish," Ages grabbed his wrist. "There was nothing we could do."

Pollux and Mason joined them, and Justin soon gave in to the pressure. He could only stare at the burning helicopter, looking as though a nightmare were unfolding in front of him. He hissed under his breath, "This isn't happening," before collapsing to the ground, burying his face in his hands.

The others watched as the men from NIMH desperately tried to extinguish the flames, with both the helicopter and the house now engulfed. But they didn't have the right equipment, and the fire soon raged beyond their control. Soon they were forced to step back, powerless against the fire.

"Not like this," Justin muttered. "It wasn't supposed to happen this way."

"We did our best, Justin," said Ages. "The odds were stacked against us from the beginning, but Max sacrificed himself for the rest of us. It doesn't make me feel any better either," he continued. "But he saved us all, Justin."

A plume of smoke billowed from the house, spreading in the sky like a black cloud coming straight from the ground. The frame could barely be seen through the blurry haze of orange and yellow, wood crackling harshly as the scents of burning timber, cloth, and the most disturbing, flesh permeated the air.

"We should go now, Justin," Ages said softly. "Once things calm down, maybe we can recover his body, but right now, we should seek cover.

Justin agreed against his will, he and the others leaving the field just as the Fitzgibbons' house crumbled to the ground.

(****)

Daylight poured in through the entrance tunnel. Jenner's onslaught had continued throughout the night, never full-scale, but the assault had been consistent and never let up. Many on Orion's side had been wounded, and five of Jenner's had been killed before morning. But he wasn't deterred by the casualties, and continued the advance. He'd gotten past several barricades, though there was still some distance before he became a real threat.

The air grew thicker, muggier, the farther they got from the entrance, and Orion could see the looks of worry growing worse with each fallback they had to take. Yet, he did his best to drive them on, trying to avoid showing any signs of stress himself. He'd been up for almost two days straight, and his mind zoned out as he fired his weapon with machine-like accuracy. He glanced at the wet streak on his arm, created by all the times he'd wiped sweat from his forehead. His uniform was also damp with perspiration. The bandage covering the stump of his ear had trouble staying on, but the wound had been clotted over by dry blood, so it didn't really matter. He stood on the frontlines, he and the men ducking behind the crates when arrows flew at them, returning fire at every opportunity.

The past few hours had found them in a stalemate. Jenner's men had reached the fourth barricade, twenty-five feet in from the entrance. Though each side had a large supply of those ready to fight, there was very limited space for them to do so.

Most of the morning had passed under fire before Orion suspected something, able to hear strange sounds behind the chaos, almost as though Jenner's men were working on something. He had no idea what it could be, however, not able to get even a glance behind the stream of traitors. Unfortunately, he took too long a pause, and wasn't watching the enemy. An arrowhead sliced sharply across his left shoulder, and he fell backward, dropping his crossbow as his right hand flew to the wound. The pain was white-hot, and blood was beginning to seep through his fingers, running down his arm.

"Sir, you alright?" Kyle soon asked.

"I'm fine," said Orion. "Go take my spot. Hold them off."

He looked back at his arm, pulling his hand away. The cut was deep, clean, and he cursed himself for not paying attention. He then headed back to the next barricade, where there was a group waiting to give medical attention to any who needed it. To get to it, one had to travel around a slight bend, which would prove difficult to Jenner's advance, if he made it that far. Though his men were surprised to see him, they wasted no time in binding his wound, while also telling him to go further into the lair to get some rest. Orion would have none of it.

"How's the position holding?" someone asked.

"We're dug in pretty solid," said Orion. "But I don't know…something just doesn't feel right."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, something's wrong," Orion clarified. "Jenner's up to something; I can feel it."

He paced around, rotating his shoulder, wincing in pain. "He hasn't moved in hours," he continued. "And I'm expecting that, at any minute, he's going to try something, something drastic."

Just then, there was thunderous commotion from up ahead. Orion paused, puzzled, when he heard static crackling over the intercom.

"Captain!" a voice said urgently. "Captain!"

"What is it?" Orion questioned.

"We did it!" the voice exclaimed, now excited. "We've pushed him back; Jenner's falling back!"

His jaw dropped. "What? When?"

"Just a moment ago. We took out two more of his men, and they just started falling back. We're gonna follow them, and drive them out."

"No, wait—"

A new signal cut into the transmission.

"Are you there, Orion?"

The voice was Jenner's.

"I'm here," spat Orion.

"Do me a favor, Orion," the psychopath purred over the speaker. "When you inform your men's families of their deaths, be sure to point out it was your carelessness that got them killed."

Orion's gut twisted, and he realized Jenner had lured them right into a trap. He bolted down the corridor, finding the barricade abandoned, his men going after Jenner's.

"No, get back!" he screamed desperately. "Get back! It's a tra—"

The shockwave threw him back, hard enough to knock the wind out of him. The detonation was loud enough he was instantly deafened, and his head rang with pain as a hot blast of sulfur and gunpowder threw him back to the wall. Dirt and shrapnel fell in all directions, the ground rumbling with such force that layers of soil rained from the ceiling, dust filling the air. Orion couldn't see his hand in front of his face, and through the roar he could hear his men scream as the roof caved in on them.

Orion landed with his back to the wall, trapped in a daze as he coughed up dust, dirt, and blood. Chunks of soil still fell around him. He could barely see, barely hear, and his body was numb. He gagged on the filthy air, energy fading every second, and he struggled to remain conscious as reality slipped away.

Why would he do that? He thought, though was sure it'd been done to wipe out Jenner's men. But, why would he seal off his only way in? The front gate's completely secure, and the only way through it would be to—

Before he completed the thought, he was on his feet and running, yelling, ordering his men to the front gate.

(****)

Justin and the others had spent most of the morning watching the men from NIMH clear out the destruction caused by the explosion. Stavros had been on the scene within an hour, and the look on Valentine's face was enough to tell the rats they'd been successful. He was in charge now, and he had to answer all the hard questions. The NIMH project had become a disaster, and Valentine had tried to pass the blame to Schultz's near-obsessive lunacy, though it apparently wasn't enough for Stavros. The entire operation had been a black eye on the agency for years, and they knew covering all the damage was going to be difficult.

Schultz hadn't died from the blast. She'd struggled too frantically with her seatbelt, and had perished from smoke inhalation. It had been anything but easy, as most of her skin and clothing had burnt away before she'd finally succumbed. The helicopter had burnt to a shell, and the farmhouse had been completely leveled. Soon after Stavros had arrived, they'd begun investigating the cause of the explosion, and there had been quite a commotion when they'd opened the fuel hatch, finding the scorched corpse of a rat. The story was that, whoever had last done maintenance on the helicopter, they'd left the hatch open, and that the rat had somehow gotten inside. In its struggle to escape, it'd cut open the fuel line, which had then been ignited by sparks from the ignition. They knew it was far-fetched, but also that everything about the project had been and, as ridiculous as it was, the story was good enough was Stavros. He'd ordered everyone off the site, had called in a clean-up crew to take care of the mess. Max's body had been retrieved during that gap of time, taken from the patch of dirt it had been tossed in after discovery. They created a stretcher out of various supplies, then left the scene.

The walk back was silent for them. Pollux led, with Justin and Dietrich carrying the stretcher. Ages and Mason brought up the rear. Storm clouds threatened the sky, as they headed slowly through the undergrowth, soon coming to the concrete bridge. They could feel the vibrations in the earth before they even stepped on the ledge.

Steadily, the vibrations grew stronger, louder as they reached the bridge's midpoint. The roar of a train whistle sounded as it passed beneath, blowing out an enormous cloud of steam. The pair steadied themselves against the vacuum, earth shaking violently as the train snaked its way along the rails. Justin glanced at Pollux just in time, ducking beneath the rat's slashing blade. The sword crashed against the concrete, and Justin lunged forward, tackling him. After a brief exchange of blows, he kicked himself free, pulling his sword free. They clashed as only two masters could, Justin blocking everything Pollux threw at him. Though both were skilled, Justin was stronger, and he used his strength to shove Pollux closer to the edge. Losing ground quickly, Pollux forgot his swordplay, focusing more on not falling. It quickly turned into a reverse tug-of-war, their blades connecting at the hilt. In several seconds, Justin saw his chance, twisting Pollux's arm behind his back, making Pollux scream in pain. He then grabbed the rat's collar, holding him close to the bridge's edge.

"Give me one reason why I don't kill you now!" he yelled furiously.

His face was twisted in rage and pain, but Pollux still found a way to smirk back at him.

"Because, you're not man enough to do it," he hissed. "You're soft and you know it!"

Justin's grip only tightened.

"Why are you doing this?" he demanded. "Who put you up to this?"

Pollux just laughed. "That's for me to know, and foe you to find out!"

He threw his body over the edge, pulling Justin with him. The two rats crashed on a boxcar, the force of impact throwing them apart. Pollux recovered first, smashing wildly on the roof, Justin barely avoiding each strike. Soon, Justin rolled to one side, and kicked Pollux's knees out from under him. They both clamored back to their feet, the bridge they'd stood on vanishing into the distance. The wind whipped by, making accuracy difficult, and the train's constant shifting made keeping their footing almost impossible.

The train passed under another small bridge, sending them into blackness. Once more, their blades clashed, each strike more powerful than the last. They tumbled several times, recovering quickly, fighting until their hands were numb. The struggle threatened to become a stalemate when Justin abruptly lost his balance, falling to his back. Pollux leapt forward, bringing his sword down, landing on Justin's crouched legs. Justin caught the rat's arms, the struggle continuing as Pollux fought to get his blade in Justin's throat.

"Next time you have a chance to kill someone," he snapped between grunts. "Don't hesitate."

Immediately, Justin released the rat's hands, throwing his head to the side to avoid the falling blade. Caught off-guard, Pollux couldn't react as, at the same moment they passed beneath another bridge, Justin kicked him high into the air. The sound of crunching bone was audible over the train's rumbling, as Pollux connected with the concrete, going sickeningly limp. Justin scrambled to his feet, watching as the corpse bounced off a car, plunging to the ground.

"Thanks for the advice," he hissed as an afterthought. He went back for his blade, then moved to the edge of the car. There was some loose rope about his waist, and he tied one end to the handrail, taking the slack in his hands. He rappelled down the side, bracing himself near the bottom while he waited for an opening. A wide patch of grass soon came into sight, and he launched himself from the car, letting the rope slip through his grasp to gain distance, as well as slow his fall. At the last possible moment, he let go, the grass seeming to float beneath him before coming quickly upon him. Throwing his body in a roll, he crash-landed in the soil.

Gradually, the world stopped spinning, and Justin paused to watch the caboose drive by. He then picked himself up, going back toward the others.

(****)

Jenner's bomb had shaken the entire earth, the blast echoed like thunder through the valley. From his point of view, far from the lair, Cameron could see everything that happened, and he stared wildly at the carnage. Where the rear entrance had stood was now nothing more than a huge pile of rubble, and the hillside had been reduced to a gaping mound of dirt.

The blast had sent a plume of soil in the air, leaving a trail of dust as it filtered to the ground. The fortified front entrance had also been hit. The steel structure had been ripped from the ground, twisting into a scorched wreck, a large chunk of hillside collapsing as well. The sliding metal door had been shredded like cardboard, and his army surged toward the new weakness. They did all the dirty work, while Jenner, Castor, and Sasha hung back, watching everything that happened.

Unaware of the bombings, an enraged Cameron marched up to Jenner.

"What in the name of God have you done?" he shouted.

"Creating a hole," said Jenner, somewhat irritated.

"You already had a 'hole'," said Cameron. "You never said anything about more bombs. This is madness, Jenner," he added. "By the time you're done, there won't be anything left!"

Silently, Castor and Sasha stood by, listening as Jenner spoke, his face inches from his comrade's.

"Cameron, you are quickly becoming a thorn," he said calmly. "If you continue to question my actions, my motives, and my authority, I can only assume that you are no longer on my side, and have become an adversary. Do you want this?"

"Someone has to say something," Cameron snapped. "Your minion and your whore over there might not have the guts to speak up, but I do," he took a hard breath. "You've completely lost grip with reality! You'll have all of us dead by the end of this, if you keep up these destructive activities! What good is seizing control of the colony if there isn't a colony left?"

Jenner grabbed him by the collar. "This is your last warning," his voice was louder, though still calm. "I swear I will get rid of you just as easily as I acquired you."

"What are you going to do?" Cameron scoffed. Kill me? I think I'm much too important for you to just—"

His breath rushed out as Jenner drove a sword through his chest, the cut clean through his ribs, blade shoved through his back.

"Actually, you're not," he said flatly, completing the thought. Cameron reached out, but Jenner knocked his hand aside, still holding grasping his collar. Choking, Cameron coughed up blood, the look on his face one of utter surprise, confusion. But then Jenner twisted the blade, watching the life fade from the rat's eyes. He then pulled the sword free, the fresh body falling to the ground. He then glanced at Sasha and Castor.

"What?" he asked, wiping the blade clean.

"You never said you were going to kill him," said Sasha, shocked by her husband's sudden murder.

"He became a liability," said Jenner casually. "He didn't have the balls to go through with this, and became more harm than good. Do you have a problem with that?"

She stuttered at his cold words. "W-Well, no…"

"Good. Now, find someone to dispose of this mess." He left then, leaving Sasha and Castor to their own thoughts.

"Cameron was right," she said. "He's gone mad."

"No, there's a difference between madness and ambition." Castor sounded unsure of his words. "Cameron was weak," he continued. "A bad link in the chain that was only hurting us all; Jenner was just cutting loose unnecessary excess."

"Just keep telling yourself that, Castor," she said. "Keep saying that until your time comes."

"Shut up," he got in her face. "Just stick to the plan, and it'll all work out just as Jenner designed it to."

"Sasha!"

Jenner was standing a few feet away, and motioned for her to follow him, stopping at the tree line. Sasha went slowly, giving Castor an extra-long glance.

"Castor, clean that up," repeated Jenner, then vanished into the woods.

Sasha followed cautiously, and they were well into the forest before he turned behind a large tree. She followed, keeping even distance between them, but had no choice to come close once he stopped. He stood next to the trunk, turning to face her, holding out his hands. After brief hesitation, Sasha settled her hands in his palms. His fingers closed gently over hers, but then he suddenly forced her against the tree, pinning her arms above her head, up against the bark

"You're afraid of me, aren't you?" he asked.

"Why shouldn't I be?" she replied. "You just killed my husband."

"I've killed many," he said. "And each of them had something in common with your husband. Do you know what that is?"

"What?"

"You didn't care about any of them."

"So?" she said. "He was your ally, and if you can discard him so easily, then what about the rest of us?"

"I'd hoped you would have been better than that," he still held her arms back. "Cameron was less an ally and more an accessory, a tool I used to get something I wanted."

"And what was that?"

He flashed a rare, genuine smile.

"You." He released her wrists, pressing his body to hers and stroking her hair.

"There are other ways to a girl's heart," she almost grinned. "Than running her husband through his."

"Well, you know me," he shrugged. "I like to be creative."

"You were going to kill him all along," she realized. "Weren't you?"

"Sooner or later," he shrugged again. "He just drove me to choose sooner. Besides," he added slyly. "I hated the idea of sharing you with him."

She wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him closer.

"You haven't shared me for a long time," she said. "I can't even remember the last time I was with Cameron."

"But you remember the last time you were with me, don't you?" he started kissing her neck.

"I remember," she leaned back. "But it's been a while; I might need you to remind me."

"With pleasure."

He all but ripped off his belt and shirt, simply hiking her dress above her waist. He lifted her, pushing her back against the tree. Their kisses were rough and passionate as he forced himself into her, and she welcomed him gladly, wrapping her legs around his waist, clawing his back. He held her steady with the left, and his right hand slipped around her thigh. Sasha's breath grew louder, more ragged, every time he pushed against her. It was one thing Jenner had always liked about her. She was loud and rough in bed, and he was giving her just what she liked. He pounded her back hard against the tree, grunting and snarling, loose bits of bark and soil tumbling around them. To anyone who didn't know better, it looked and sounded like he was punishing her. For several minutes, his muscles taut, he ground his body against hers, sweating heavily beneath his loose clothes. Sasha simply wrapped her arms around him, clung to him as she burned, inside and out, from ecstasy. In a short while, he snarled louder than ever, pulling her hair as his pelvis crashed viciously against hers. He slammed her once more into the tree, pushing his organ to the greatest depth before releasing, body spasming. His claws dug into her skin, drawing blood, and she screamed in delight, succumbing to passion. His tongue and teeth ran along her damp throat, and she purred in pleasure. His body jerked, releasing the last few drops as he was pulled tightly against her. Her thighs had been bruised by the pressure, her back cut unmercifully by the tree's bark, but she savored every moment of it.

He stood, pressed against her, both silent, save for heavy breaths. After a moment, he ran his hand between their legs, where they were still joined, making her moan and writhe as his fingers probed. He soon brought his hand up, dark fur dripping with fluid, and he rubbed his claws along her lips. She licked it up gladly, then he offered his own tongue, the kiss raw and messy.

"You love what I do to you, don't you?" he asked.

"Oh, yes," she replied breathlessly. "And you can do it to me for the rest of our lives."

(****)

Ages was so stunned by Justin and Pollux falling from the bridge, that he didn't notice what happened behind him. Mason had unsheathed his blade without hesitation, marching silently closer to the mouse. Thankfully, Dietrich saw what was happening, and quickly freed his own blade, diving to block Mason's blade.

"No!"

Their swords clashed, and Dietrich tumbled to the ground. Face locked in a wide-eyed stare, Ages quickly backed from the fray.

"Out of the way, Dietrich," Mason cried angrily. He brought his sword down, the blade cracking against Dietrich's leg. The downed rat had been trying to straighten, groaning in pain as the edge cut deeply into him, though he still had enough sense to react, driving his heel into Mason's groin.

Dietrich leapt to his feet while Mason was doubled-over, ramming his blade straight through Mason's heart. Death was almost instant, and the body soon collapsed on Dietrich's legs, making him writhe in pain. The blade had cut deep into his calf, pain burning worse than fire. He struggled to shove the corpse away, the pain soon becoming unbearable.

Suddenly, Ages was there, helping to shove the body away. They sat motionlessly, staring at Mason's corpse while the train rumbled by.

"He was supposed to kill me…" Ages said blankly.

Dietrich sighed.

"We both were," he said softly.

The old man startled. "What?"

"Mason, Pollux, and I," Dietrich continued. "We were all sent to kill you. We were supposed to complete the mission, then murder everyone before we returned."

"But…by who?"

"Jenner," the rat's voice was harsh. "We were sent by Jenner."

Ages gasped. "Jenner's alive?"

"Yes," said Dietrich. "And he's back in Thorn Valley. We were all working with him."

"Why?"

"Because, we all believed in a cause…"

"And, just what made you change your mind?"

There was a long pause.

"I don't know," said Dietrich at last. "Somewhere along the way, I just realized it was wrong."

"Well, now what?" said Ages. "Because for all we know, Justin may be dead, and I assume Jenner had some kind of plan for Thorn Valley while he was away?"

"It's a long story," said Dietrich. He tore open a pack, looking for a bandage. "But right now, we should follow these tracks and look for Justin," he sighed again. "We need to get back, before it's too late."

After his leg was bandaged, he and Ages dragged Max's body across the bridge. Dietrich's wound was deep, making it almost impossible for his right leg to bear weight. They made sure Max and the supplies were well hidden, then set out to find Justin, going slowly because of Dietrich's limp. Several hours passed before they met up with Justin, who'd long since figured out what'd been going on. To save time, Justin helped Dietrich on the way back, and when they'd returned to the landing spot, Jenner's former comrade explained what'd happened to a confused Archer and Brenda. It was soon clear that a return to the valley was needed immediately, but neither Jeremy nor Tiffany were anywhere to be found.

(****)

"How many are dead?" Nicodemus said gravely.

"I don't know," said Orion. "Ten, maybe twenty."

They spoke within the confines of the library, where much of the colony had been barricaded, their position even more desperate now that Jenner had breached the lair's unprotected side.

"There's too much rubble to tell now," the guard finished sadly.

The old rat heaved a deep sigh.

"He simply will not rest until he has destroyed us all," he said. "He must be stopped, before any more lives are lost."

"That's the hard part," said Orion. "We never anticipated a move like this. He's moved in deep now, and it's hard to say where he may be, or where to concentrate our defenses."

He gave a harsh, bitter sound. "Goddamn it, this is a big fuck up!"

"Do not hold the blame yourself, Orion," Nicodemus told him. "None of us could have predicted such a monstrous attack. You mustn't dwell on your mistakes," he continued. "And instead, concentrate on your strengths."

Sarah had taken a brief leave of the Brisby children, and was now kneeling beside Nicodemus.

"Nicodemus is right," she said. "Jenner can be stopped, and you can stop him."

Orion turned away, scratching at his wounded ear.

"I don't know," he spoke softly. "Maybe—"

Sarah stood, moving in front of him.

"Yes, you can," she spoke encouragingly. "I know you can."

She reached out, taking his hands in hers.

"I've always believed you can accomplish anything," she continued. "You always could, and I still believe in you."

He gazed at her, gazed in her eyes. He may have been younger than her, but she had an innocence he admired; she was trusting and loving. She was the sweetest person he knew, and he knew he would rather die than have her come to harm.

He ran his nails through her hair, watching the smile that always made him feel alive, and, that suddenly, the thought hit him.

She noted the abrupt change in his expression.

"What is it?" she asked.

"I have an idea," he replied.

"Tell me," she said. "What is it?"

He shook his head. "No, it's better you don't know."

"But Orion—"

"No, hush now," he said. "I need you to stay here. Keep yourself safe, this'll all be over soon."

He kissed her forehead, jogging off into the darkness. A few minutes later, he ran into Arthur.

"I've got a plan," he said.

"What is it?" asked Arthur.

"There's no time to explain," said Orion. "Just trust me."

He glanced behind him.

"Now, I want you to order the men to hold their positions; make no advancements, no matter how safe it looks."

"Orion, wait," Arthur held out a hand. "Why not?"

"You'll know soon enough," said Orion, starting to run off. "Just go, do it!"

He was gone before Arthur had a chance to reply, though he wasn't going toward the battle. Orion ran to the destroyed rear entrance.

Okay, I know there aren't many changes now, but I assure you, they're coming!