Snow fell through the trees, the gentle wind creating flurries of snow, throwing it into the air before letting it float down. In the small clearing, the tents billowed slightly with the wind, snow threatening to bury them and the sleeping boys inside.

Jonathan though wasn't asleep. He had woken up after his dream of Evan and hadn't been able to go back to sleep since. He laid in his sleeping bag, listening to the wind and the forest around him. He couldn't stop thinking about something odd, something that kept happening in his dreams. He didn't sleep well as it was normally, needing to count himself to sleep but it wasn't that. Evan was always dead in his dreams. He was a shot soldier and in tonight's dream, he had a head wound. Maybe that was what the chair had done to him. Jonathan knew that Evan was dead, that was why they were out here; they had to keep him dead. Despite that, there was something else, something that he was missing and he didn't know what.

Deciding that he wouldn't be able to sleep, he got up, pulling on his jacket and boots before wrapping a blanket around himself. He pulled down the zipper of the tent and stepped into the slowly brightening morning, snow landing on his hair. He knelt down in front of the ash where the fire had been and set about lighting it again, doing his best to protect the small flame from the cold wind. In the wood beyond the clearing, a twig snapped.

The sound caught Jonathan's attention and he looked up, his eyes scanning the treeline for the source of the noise but there was nothing. He could hear footsteps in the snow, the crunching of ice underfoot. Something moved in front of him and he looked down, seeing footsteps appear in the snow but there was no one there. Jonathan got to his feet, backing away from the ghostly footsteps. His eyes were wide and he struggled to breathe, watching another footstep appear in the snow. The sudden sound of a gunshot made him cry out in fear, his arms thrown over his face in an attempt to protect himself. There was a second silence and he could faintly hear a scream. As sudden as it happened, silence descended on the clearing. Jonathan slowly moved his arms, looking around but found nothing except a pair of bloody footprints in front of him.

"W-Who are you?" Jonathan whispered to the ghost. There wasn't a sound except for the wind in the cold trees. "Evan?"

"I'm real…" The wind whispered as it pulled the blanket around Jonathan's shoulders. "I'm real…"

"I'm scared." The fire crackled and spat sparks into the morning sky. Brock sat beside Jonathan, his scarf wrapped tightly around his face. "I'm scared of the Wasteland...What's out there, Jonathan?"

"Something we can't handle…" Jonathan whispered.

"What's gotten into you? You sound like you're possessed." Tyler said, sipping from his coffee mug.

"Nothing...Just had a nightmare." Jonathan lied. He was still shaken up from what he had seen earlier. He had stared at the footprints till he heard one of the tent zippers open and he had scrambled to cover up the phantom blood.

"What of?" Brock asked. Jonathan couldn't answer. Every dream he had had over the past little while had been on a grey line, something haunting and disturbing about every moment he could remember. Maybe it was the way that Evan looked like a corpse come alive or a ghost who had forgotten he had died. He couldn't explain it, no matter how much he wanted to.

"D-Do...Do you guys have dreams about Evan? Like nightmares?" Jonathan finally said, looking up at the circle around them. Tyler suddenly set his mug down on the snow; he looked like he was going to be sick. "I'm sorry...I shouldn't have asked."

"Are you having nightmares about him?" Tyler asked, but his eyes were on the snow as if he too were looking at bloody footprints.

"Yes…"

"Is he dead?"

"Yes. He's like a ghost when he appears in my dreams."

"It's nothing...Just your mind dealing with grief...That's all it is." Tyler said but it sounded more like he was trying to convince himself.

"I've never had dreams about him." Lui said, glancing between the two. "Well...No, I have in the past...just reliving 3:57." Lui sighed. His hand curled around his mug seemed to shake and he got up quickly, turning away from the group and walked towards the treeline. Jonathan turned back to Tyler who had placed a hand over his scarred shoulder, massaging it to relieve the phantom pain. He wouldn't look at anyone. Jonathan wanted to ask him what he saw in his dreams but something told him otherwise. At least he knew he wasn't alone.

The truck rumbled down the snowy road, it's tires throwing snow into the air behind them. The trees swayed in the wind as dark clouds rolled overhead, threatening to bring with them a blizzard. Jonathan leant against the side, tucked under a blanket. Once they had gotten in the truck, all conversation seemed pointless, no one could hear over the roar of the wind and the engine. Him, Brock and Craig were huddled in the back, watching the road behind them.

A slow rumble seemed to come from somewhere overhead, catching their attention. Jonathan leaned over the railing and looked up but saw nothing in the sky. He prayed that he wasn't hearing things again as he sat back down, glancing at the others.

Do you hear that?" Jonathan managed to call out.

"Yeah...What is that?" Craig called back. "Does Tyler hear?"

"I don't know!" Brock called back, frantically waving over the side towards Tyler's window but the truck didn't slow down. Jonathan pulled the blanket off his shoulders and got up, carefully climbing over the railing and reached for the next pole, inching along the edge of the speeding truck towards Tyler's window. He had no cable this time to save him if he fell.

"Jonathan! Be careful!" Craig cried out over the wind and the rumbling. All at once, the rumbling got louder and bullets rained down on the truck. Jonathan screamed in fear and his hand slipped from the icy pole, sending him crashing to the hard snowy ground. He rolled, his ears ringing, pain bringing tears to his eyes. Up ahead, the truck stopped, the front door swinging open. Jonathan rolled to a stop and looked up, seeing a helicopter just above the truck, a war machine dropping in front of the truck. It was painted to look like Evan just like the others had. Tyler shot at the machine as it approached, but it seemed to not care. Jonathan could only watch as the machine pulled Tyler down from the truck and throw him to the ground.

"Tyler!" Lui had managed to get out of the truck, a gun held tight in his hand which he aimed at the machine's neck. Sparks flew around the machine which seemed to scream as it turned to face Lui.

"L-Lui!" Evan's voice suddenly pleaded. "Don't!" Lui froze, staring at the machine with wide eyes. "You saved me once...3:57."

"Kill it!" Craig suddenly yelled as he swung himself out of the back of the truck, a bat in his hand. He swung it at the machine's neck, sparks bursting from wires. The machine fell back to the ground where Craig continued to beat it, kicking the head off into the snow. "Jon!" Craig was suddenly running back to him, dropping to his knees beside him. Jonathan had watched it all happen but through blurry vision, his head aching painfully.

"Get down!" Bullets once more rained down on them, the helicopter just above the tree. Craig suddenly fell over Jonathan, his panicked heavy breathing loud in Jonathan's ears. They heard Tyler scream. Jonathan could just barely seem him fall back on the snow, blood splattered around him. Lui shot at the helicopter before ducking for cover back in the truck. A louder bang made Jonathan jump, his eyes turning to Brock who leaned over the railing of the truck, a double barrel shotgun in his hand. They could see the front glass of the window crack and Brock shot again. The helicopter flew higher and turned away from them, flying back over the trees.

"Fucking Christ…" Craig breathed as he got back up. "Jon...are you okay?"

"I-I'm okay...I'm okay…" Jonathan stammered as he struggled to get to his feet. Though he felt badly bruised, he was able to move just fine. Lui had dropped down beside Tyler, pressing a hand to the wound on his shoulder.

"You'll be okay...You've dealt with this before…" Lui reassured him.

"Doesn't mean it doesn't fucking hurt." Tyler spat. Jonathan staggered towards Tyler, helping him up and guided him towards the back of the truck. Blood seeped around Jonathan's fingers. "Fuck...Fuck what was that?"

"I don't know...but it's gone and we have to keep going. You need stitches." Jonathan said as he helped him up into the back and laid him down on the blankets. Lui hung off the back, Craig jumping up into the back beside Brock.

"I can drive." Brock looked down the road then back at them and gave them a small smile. "You help Tyler. I'll get us out of here. Lui, keep me company." They both jumped off and headed to the front as Jonathan and Craig searched through their bags for the first aid kits. As the truck started up, they found it and helped Tyler out of his jacket and did their best to clean and heal the wound, using a pair of tweezers to get the bullet out. Jonathan was glad that he couldn't hear Tyler's cries of pain over the engine. While Craig stitched, Jonathan held the skin together, his hands covered in blood and the stinging alcohol they had used to clean the wound.

"I-I got shot again…" Tyler laughed weakly. "I feel like I've been filled with bullets...Maybe in a past life that was how I went out...a chest full of bullets and the universe is making it happen again…" Tyler sighed, his tear filled eyes meeting Jonathan's. "Fuck the universe…"

The sun overhead was dulled by the thick clouds as it moved closer to the horizon. The untouched snow sparkled in the dying light.

"Does this look familiar?" Craig asked, watched the trees pass by.

"No...Nothing here is familiar, Craig." Jonathan didn't look up. He had Tyler's jacket on his lap, a needle and thread in his hand. The faded second owl patch looked up at Jonathan as he sewed it over the hole on Tyler's jacket just like he had with his.

"Just kinda feels like we've already been here. Like we're going in circles."

"The road is straight."

"I know." Jonathan looked up at Craig for a moment, wondering where the déjà vu was coming from but he didn't question it. He pulled the last thread on the patch and cut it to tie it tightly, securing it to the jacket. Staring down at it, Jonathan felt that it was wasn't right to be on Tyler's jacket but he didn't know why. He shook the odd thought away and leaned back against the side, watching the snow gently falling from the sky. His eyes drifted closed, counting himself to sleep.

"One...Two…Three…"

Gauze dangled from burned hands and eyes were wide and inhuman. Jonathan was looking at a monster.

"Four...Five...Six…"

Unable to look at the monster, Jonathan turned away, his eyes landing on a large bonfire, sparks rising high into the air.

"Seven...Eight...Nine…"

A flare flew into the sky and exploded into red smoke.

Once the sun had gone down, they pulled the truck off and set up camp just inside the treeline. Jonathan struggled with his tent, the pole slipping from his hand and landing on the snow a few feet away.

"Do you need help?" Craig laughed.

"That'd be great thanks." Jonathan smiled as he went to collect the pole. He picked it up and looked around the woods, watching the snow fall quietly. He was surprised by how much life was in the Wasteland. Squirrels darted across the snow and birds sang in the trees, their bright feathers catching Jonathan's eye. A large horned owl watched him from one of the large trees which swayed gently in the wind. He imagined that one could live peacefully here, without a care in the world except keeping the cold out.

A sudden force suddenly tackled Jonathan to the snow, crushing him there.

"Get off!" Jonathan screamed, struggling against the person on top of him. Sharp, cold metal pressed to the side of his throat made him freeze.

"Who are you? Are you with him?" A voice yelled in his ear.

"I don't know what you're talking about! Let me go!" Jonathan screamed. He could hear footsteps running through the snow and Lui was suddenly there, pulling the man off and throwing him to the snow. The knife fell from his hand, now leaving him defenceless but he got back up and lunged at Lui who aimed a sharp kick to his side, throwing back into the snow. The man's messenger bag fell to his side, the clip breaking under the force of his elbow landing on it. Lui yanked him up by his collar, something large falling out of the bag. As Lui swung him around and pinned him to a tree, Jonathan reached for the fallen object, his gloved hand curling around the side of it. It was a tablet with the word 'Vanoss-III' written at the top. "Lui stop!" Jonathan yelled as he scrambled to his feet. "What is this? How do you have a Vanoss-III?" Jonathan grabbed the fallen knife that had been used to threaten his life and gripped it tightly as he threatened the man with it now. "Where did you get this?"

"I'm from a place called New Town! Or...Old Town is what it's called now! I was an engineer! This is from a project I was working on! His name is Marcel!" The man cried. "My name is Smitty! I'm sorry! I just saw your truck and I didn't know if you were the ones behind those god damn war machines! I thought you were!" Lui let go of him roughly, glancing at Brock, Craig and Tyler who had gathered to see what was going on. The owl patch on Tyler's shoulder glinted in the dim light, it's faded feathers looking blood stained.

"We're going after the machines too...They took Evan's consciousness. You know Evan, don't you?" Jonathan asked, lowering the knife.

"Yeah...I knew him. Not very well, though. I would just be the one that brought him paper and a pen when he asked for them. I mostly was in charge of Marcel, though. I'm ashamed of that project...So when the revolt happened, I left as soon as I could. I needed to get out of that hellhole. I'm sorry for attacking you." Smitty said, his guilt clear across his face.

"You're forgiven." Jonathan said, glancing at the others for a moment. "Join us for dinner tonight. I'd love to talk to Marcel if that's okay. I know how one can be when they have one of these…"

"You get protective. It's a life literally in your hands." Smitty nodded. "You had Evan, didn't you?' Jonathan nodded. "You must be Jonathan then...Your father-"

"Don't. I don't really like talking about him."

"Thank you for what you did. He was a cruel man." Smitty said as they walked back to their camp. Craig made him some hot chocolate while they finished setting up camp before finally settling down for dinner. "So you are going after the guy that took Evan's consciousness?" Smitty asked, watching Jonathan study the outside of the Vanoss-III.

"Yeah. I think he took multiple things, such as the bodies and the other chips that weren't used and duplicated them. He's put them in the war machines to mess with us. I made my own version of the Vanoss-III with one of the chips I took from one." Jonathan said, reaching into his own bag to pull out the Vanoss-IV. "He's a bit of a dick so I won't turn it on right now."

"Impressive...You took a regular tablet to do this?"

"Yeah. I didn't have much." Smitty looked very impressed with Jonathan's skill.

"I wanna talk to Marcel. He sounds nice." Tyler said, his hand over the owl patch.

"Yeah. He can be." Smitty laughed as he pressed the on button. The screen lit up purple, and Jonathan noticed that a few things were different from the Vanoss-III. At least they had tried to personalise them. "Hi, Marcel. We got friends."

"You have friends?" A new voice laughed. "Did you bribe them, Smitty?"

"Be nice. They knew Evan."

"Poetry kid?"

"Yes, poetry kid."

"Did you meet him?" Brock asked, leaning towards the purple glowing screen. Jonathan found himself wrapping his arms around the Vanoss-IV, wishing it was the Vanoss-III instead with his Evan's voice.

"Not really. His room was across from mine and we talked occasionally through the bars. He just sounded really sad, not because of what might happen to us but because we were trapped, imprisoned for no reason. Was he happy as the Vanoss-III?" Marcel asked.

"A few times." Tyler said. Jonathan nodded sadly.

"I'm sorry for what happened to you, Marcel."

"Don't be. I feel kinda like an ethereal being like this. I exist but not really at the same time. It's a strange feeling but I like it." Marcel laughed. "Besides, it's not as messed up as what happened eighty years ago with the shit they were doing back then."

"What do you mean?" Jonathan asked, his brow furrowing with confusion.

"They were starting their experiments with consciousness twenty years after the war ended. They wanted to create something that would survive past regular human life, but still be human mentally. I don't know very much about this project, it's so top secret. There are rumours that it created consciousness mechanically. Other's say it's similar to the Vanoss-III project." Smitty explained. There was a look of wonder but also disgust on his face. He found machines beautiful, but they had been used for such horrible things, Jonathan imagined that Smitty had a hard time loving them now. "It's called the Delirious Project."