CHAPTER TWO

"Are you sure about this?" Simon asked worriedly. I reached my hands through the bars and took one of his in both of mine, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"Surer than sure." I answered, being careful in disturbing the silence. It felt so fragile at this moment…I felt as if someone might here us. These were precious times. "We'll be fine."

The lock on my cage door shivered in the normally still dark. Two pairs of yellow-brown eyes winked open about half-way as high as me, glinting softly with subtle intelligence. For a second, I couldn't tell if they belonged to one, four-eyed monster or two identical ones. Then it hit me. Suddenly, I was ashamed that I hadn't realized it straight-away.

"Sam?" I called in a strained whisper, "Eric? That's you two, right?"

"Yes."

"It is."

I snaked my fingers out of Simon's and replaced my arms inside my cell. Testing, I gave the bars a light push. The door creaked open without protest, sighing in its metal-and-rust spite.

I couldn't believe it. My breath left me entirely.

It worked. My plan had worked. Of course, not two seconds later the lights flooded on, filling the large room with light, and an alarm blared to life. I clasped my hands over my ears and ducked out of the small cage that had previously confined me. Quickly, guided now by the flickering flood lights and common sense, Sam and Eric and I began to unlatch the cage doors. Simon was the first I reached for, fumbling to pull out the latch. Once undone, I threw open the door and pulled him to his feet. We fell into step as we regrouped with the others, hidden from the sharpshooters gathered on a balcony above us in a cement hallway, gathering our bearings in a loose circle. This was a first time meeting each other face-to-face here. I'm quite sure—by the looks on their faces—that they expected each other to be grotesque and deformed. They expected actual monsters. But we were just normal people. And—at the moment—there was no time for proper introductions. A bullet shredded the air near my ear, as I stood closest to the wall, and on an instinct I ducked. Startled, we scattered, pressing ourselves against the concrete. A dark-haired, pallid boy with bright red eyes hissed at the balconies above, where the countless people in white peered at us through gun-sights. I could only assume that the maker of this noise was Roger. I don't know how, but for some reason everyone's appearance was suddenly very familiar and recognizable. My eyes darted to an open door at the end of the concrete room. My mind worked on overdrive, trying to formulate a plan.

"See that door?" I pointed out to the boy next to me. His bright red hair had become a target in the onslaught, and now he was on his toes on a whim. The moment he spared me a glance—daring and wicked through a veil of sky-blue—I knew it was Jack. He half-turned towards the door in question and spat.

"Yeah? Are we just gonna make a run for it?" He asked. It was Jack's voice alright. Scathing and skeptical and full of contempt.

"I think so." I responded above the blare of the alarm, "Spread the word! On the count of two!"

"Why two?"

"Because I'll have to yell so everyone can hear." I explained with a smile, "And they'll be expecting three!"

I waited for a few moments for Jack to do as said. After about five minutes, he turned back to me with a lopsided grin. I couldn't help but to smile back. Wow. It had only been ten minutes of freedom and already we were all friends.

"Hey, Ralph, Roger wanted to know if me and him could have a little bit of fun with the guards. You know, pay 'em back for all that stuff they did." The red-head asked.

"Uh, sure." I quickly agreed, then flushing, "But, how'd you know I was Ralph?"

"'Cause you're just the type." Jack shrugged, "Plus, your voice is a dead-giveaway."

"Oh…okay." I sighed, then: "ONE!"

The firing on the sides of us halted upon my shouting. I paused for a moment and listened. My own breathing and the breathing of my monsters around me roared in my ears. Even the echoes of the sharpshooters as they gave orders became crystal clear. The air itself possessed a noise to my enhanced senses. I was on overload. I was full to bursting with new information.

Everything was slowed down. Everything made sense.

"TWO!" I shrieked. Without hesitation, I darted out from cover. Someone was beside me, panting heavily with the effort from running. I spared them an anxious glance. It was Simon, working hard to stay close. I grabbed one of his hands and kept running, pumping my legs even harder and harder until they screamed from the task. Still, I couldn't let up. A few bullets ripped through the air near my face, and I was once more plunged into a surreal world in which my senses were heightened to an unreal type of thing. But this time, only for a second. Then, it was back to shrieks and sprinting. Simon and I reached the end of the hall in record time and hid in the scant cover of the doorway, waiting for others. He huddled against me, shivering and gasping from our journey. I put my arm around him. Both for protection and comfort. Then, I scanned the room over for everyone else. Samneric tumbled into the doorway right behind us, and Simon and I moved to make room. What must have been Bill and Maurice were in the center of the room, dancing around a barrage of gunfire. Roger and Jack, in the meantime…well…they were certainly…having fun with things.

Roger backed up from the balcony, staring up at it with anticipation glowing in his eyes. At first, I couldn't quite tell what he was doing, but then he started running. In a split second, he'd vaulted himself onto the overhang and kicked over one of the gaurds. He was joined by Jack only a moment later, and the two nodded before Roger tackled the guard and wrestled with him for his gun. After the guard had been relieved of it and Jack had started to draw most of the other fire away, the little blood-sucker pushed the downed guard's head back and sank his teeth into the soft flesh of his neck, releasing a sticky red tide. I covered Simon's eyes and looked to Jack instead. The red-headed demon was currently flipping over guards nimbly, kicking them over the ledge of the balcony in a very show-offy sort of way. When Roger was finished with his work, he took the gun he'd stolen from the now dead shooter and ran, slamming it into the chest of the nearest man to him. The white-coated man choked out at least a gallon of blood and collapsed onto the metal grating. Roger proceeded to flip the matte-black gun over so that it pointed the proper direction, and fired into the remaining guards. Jack dodged out of the way, swinging back over the rail of the balcony and meeting up with Bill and Maurice on the ground. Together, they made their way over to the rest of us. Roger did the same, after giving a white-coat a good kick for extra measure and wiping off his hands on his black jumpsuit, of course. He gave us all a wicked, toothy grin, still dripping scarlet down his chin, and fluidly rested the muzzle of the gun on his shoulder.

"Quite something, ain't it?" Roger darkly chuckled, "That was the most fun I've had in…well, ever."

"I guess." I winced, removing my hand from Simon's eyes. He pushed his hair out of his face and squinted to adjust. "Look, Roger, I know you had to feed and stuff…but…next time, could you give me a little warning? There are children with us."

"I'm a children." He pointed out with a cruel smirk.

"Please?" I pleaded adamantly.

"Oh, come on." He waved off, "I was just joking. Yeah, I'll warn you."

"Thanks." I sighed.

There was a long pause.

"Well." Jack huffed, laughing to himself a bit at something I didn't quite get. I turned to him in the narrow doorway. He looked back proudly, but I could see past the front. He was just as on-edge as the rest of us. "Hello, everyone. My name is Jack Merridew, and I can sing C-sharp!" At this, we all laughed for some reason. He went on: "I have a feeling that all of us here are going to get along smashingly."