Disclaimer: I don't own The Hills Have Eyes.

Thanks to Berry's Ambitions and Little Pink Neko for their kind reviews! Thanks so much for sticking with this fic! Means a lot! This update is rather…long, so I hope that y'all enjoy!

Edge
Chapter Nine: A Fugitive

"So, you're just going to sit there?"

Missy looked at him as if trying to decipher the meanings of the universe. She found herself calming down now that he was away from her. Her mind was starting to focus on the weak points of the room. The possible escape points. There was only one that she could see. The obvious one. The door. She wanted to scream with the oncoming feelings of futility.

"That seems to be the plan," Chameleon replied. He was sitting so straight that Missy felt it should be painful. His back straight, hands on his knees. Like he had never known the meaning of the word comfort. He hadn't moved in what seemed like hours. "I have a feeling that if I were to leave, you would try to escape. And that you might just be successful."

She found herself scoffing despite herself. This was hardly the place to find humor, but she felt that his reluctant respect of her abilities caused her to feel rather light despite the harshness of the situation.

"And," Missy grunted, trying to arrange herself in a more comfortable position, "that wouldn't be good for you, I guess?"

"The opposite of good, I fear," he replied bluntly.

Missy felt her head cock to the side of its own accord, and a shooting pain stabbed through her skull, reminding her just how she got into this position. She winced, trying to place a hand to her head, but to no avail. She was still bound tightly. She really needed to figure a way to get out of that particular situation before she even tried to formulate an escape plan. The one that made most sense was, run like hell when you have the chance.

"I suppose I hit you rather hard."

Missy felt the sarcastic remark forming in her head, but decided against voicing it. This was no time for sarcasm. In reality, she should be more terrified, but there was something about Chameleon's presence that was now more soothing than it should be. Maybe it was a product of her shock and fright that she wasn't scared. She vaguely went over the previous events in her mind, trying to sort out the important bits, any amount of information that would allow her an advantage, but somehow she came up with nothing.

However, she remembered the word "breeder" had been thrown around as if it were used so often it had lost its meaning. And apparently, Chameleon had no part in this, but…this Hades had.

"It doesn't matter. I'm just a breeder, anyway," she murmured with spite as the word itself crossed her mind again. Cold dread washed over her. There it was, the refreshing bit of fear that kicked her instincts into high gear. "You're sick," she spat. She just couldn't get over the callous nature of their world.

Chameleon closed his eyes and moved for the first time in what seemed like forever. He placed a long, slender, mottled hand in front of his face and squeezed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.

"The plan is the brainchild of my father," he replied in an almost exasperated tone. She wasn't sure if he was trying to justify his actions or just explaining a fact. Either way, this was disgusting and she found that she could hear the blood pounding in her ears. "It does not mean all of us share his views."

Missy knew that he could very well be lying. She narrowed her eyes and struggled against her bonds, earning an ache in her head and a rope burn on her wrists. Though, if he wasn't lying, this could be a valuable opening, "Then let me go. If you don't believe in what your father is doing, let me go. I'll get my friends and we'll all leave you alone."

Chameleon looked at her in that moment, lifting his face from his hand. His ice blue eyes were almost pitying. She found that she disliked that look even more than when he looked murderous, but she could also see the wheels turning in his head. She could see that there was quite a brain behind that monster, which had been apparent ever since he first opened his mouth.

"Your friends," he said tentatively. It was the beginning of a statement, one that he did not finish. Missy felt the lingering sentence as if it were a physical blow. She knew what he was not telling her, and it chilled her.

Most of her comrades must have been slaughtered already.

Tears threatened to prick her eyes, but she beat them back. There was no time for breaking down. She couldn't allow herself to. She had to think of an escape plan. And, if what Chameleon had told her about the breeders, there was a good chance at least one of them would still be alive - Amber.

Nostalgia threatened to beat her over the head as she thought of her best friend, one of her only friends. The frightening thought was that maybe Amber wouldn't be as lucky as Missy, being kidnapped by the one civil mutant around these parts. And she used the term "civil" very lightly.

The silence stretched on, and Missy wasn't sure if she wanted to break it. Chameleon had gone back to imitating a statue, and she retreated into her mind. She wriggled her wrists just a bit, thinking back to training and what would happen if captured. But, she figured, this was nothing like those scenarios. She wrinkled her nose.

"Is the smell repellant?" Chameleon asked.

Missy realized what her face must have looked like and she barked out a laugh. "You really are something."

"I am afraid I do not know what that means."

Missy shook her head. This guy was really an odd character. He hadn't laid a hand on her since that Grabber character came by and reprimanded him for it. Not that she minded. She swallowed and tried to take deep breaths. Panicking now over what could possibly happen to her in the future was not what she should be doing now. That would not help her get out of here.

As she thought of possible ways of getting out of her bonds, most which involved a lot of chewing on her part, she figured that something that overtly obvious would attract the attention of the security detail currently on her and he would stop her before she ever made leeway. Closing her eyes to fight against the pressing feelings of helplessness and inadequacy, she leaned her head against her bound hands, letting herself fall into a peaceful place that might clear her mind.

A slight pressing on her bladder pulled her away from her thoughts. The feeling was nothing she hadn't experienced before, and it was nothing that she couldn't ignore at this point, but the idea had already sprouted, and she was opening her mouth before thinking it through. In fact, as soon as she started to talk, her mind berated her, What if they don't have bathrooms here? What if they just -

"I need to go to the bathroom," she said, injecting the appropriate amount of embarrassment into her voice, adjusting her legs to indicate that she could not wait any longer. Oscar, please, she thought with venom.

Chameleon blinked over at her lazily, as if expecting this. He sighed. "Fine."

Missy moved around, indicating that she was still bound. "Um…"

But the lanky mutant was already rising from his position, moving over to her with little sense of purpose. He untied her from the bed, leaving the bonds that wrapped around her wrists and ankles in tact. Then, with little preamble, he slung her over his shoulder as if she were a sack of potatoes. She let out a little squeak, not expecting this turn of events, as he stalked out of the door.

His large hand was gentle on her back as they moved swiftly through the mines. She half-wondered why he hadn't just allowed her to walk on her own, but then she realized that he probably thought she'd run for it. He was right.

They journeyed through the mines, winding through passageways that were cluttered with random objects and fallen planks of wood. Missy thought that there would never be a way out until he stopped. She felt the breeze created by his swift walking cease, and he plucked her off his shoulder as if she weighed nothing, setting her on her feet gently.

Missy glanced forward, seeing that she was in a rather small room, with a surprisingly large pooling of water that sloughed down into the earth through a crevice, most likely where the waste would go if one were to use the bathroom here.

Such an amount of water…she never thought she'd see anything like this in the desert. It was like some kind of bizarre illusion that should have been brought on by heat stroke or something.

Chameleon bent over and undid the bonds from her ankles before moving to get the ones from her arms. He jabbed a thumb in the direction of the miniature pond. "There," he said. "Go ahead. I will wait out here."

Missy watched him as he slung a wooden door over the opening of the supposed bathroom, leaving her trapped in the darkness. There was only a slight puncturing of light from a hole in the wall above her head that allowed the sunlight to shine through.

She paused, trying to think of where to go now. She couldn't possibly escape through that small opening at the edge of the pond - not if she wanted to get out of here alive, that is. She glanced about the joint to try to find a weapon, anything that could aid her in her escape, and found nothing. She growled to herself in frustration.

When thinking that the appropriate amount of time had passed, she knocked on the door and Chameleon moved the board out of the way. He nodded and grasped her wrist.

No bonds? she thought, surprised. This I can work with.

The two of them walked through the halls, with Missy's mind wheeling, her eyes searching for whatever she could use to incapacitate Chameleon. A brief stint of guilt washed over her, but she mashed it down. There was no time for that, even though the fact that it was Chameleon that had captured her was the only reason she was alive and unharmed. She shuddered.

"Hey!" a voice called out. She recognized it from before. Letch. "Hey, look, Cham!"

Letch, still in those blasphemous army clothes, had a small girl in his grasp. Her thin wrists were easily enveloped in only one of Letch's hands, and she looked to be crying. In the darkness, Missy could barely make out her features, but she noticed that her eyes seemed to be slightly disproportionate, but her face still had the cute features of a young person.

Chameleon stilled, his fingers tightened around Missy's wrist. The sound of his voice was deadly and as cutting as a knife when he spoke. "What have you done, Letch?"

"Easy, easy," Letch raised his one free hand as if offering a promise of peace. "Papa'll be proud about this 'un, huh? He's 'lways enjoyed getting one over on ol' Jupe!"

Missy felt a fierce protectiveness overcome her. This girl looked to be so young, couldn't be over sixteen, and they were treating her as if she were an item. One of their…breeders.

Her eyes landed on a piece of wood propped up against the wall. It was splintered and still had a few nails embedded in it, but it would do. In fact, it was perfect.

Her plan was set.

Chameleon had completely turned into a statue again, so it was easy to break free from his grip. In one quick movement, she grabbed the board - it was heavier than she thought, but she hefted it with ease - and smashed it against Chameleon's side. He buckled, clenching his ribs, and then Letch came at her.

Chameleon was taking an unusually long time to get up, so Missy was able to focus on getting Letch out of the way. She used the board again, but it broke on impact with his head. This seemed to anger him, and he reached for her. She retreated back into a place of fight-or-flight, and she fought. She ducked underneath his reaching arms and kicked his knee in. He shouted and stumbled lightly. She took this opportunity to send a crippling kick to the back of his head.

He fell forward again, and Missy used her knee to dig his face into the dirt. She looked up to see that the girl hadn't moved in her shock. Missy shot forward, grasping the girl around her slim waist, and started to move, but not before getting a look back at Chameleon.

He was clenching his ribs, but his eyes stung through her as if they had barbs. He did not move to stop her.

Through her shock, Missy nodded at him, an understanding passing through them. She looked at the girl, and said, "Get on my back."

The girl nodded and slung her thin frame over Missy's back, piggy-back style. This would be easier than having to drag her around, and she was lighter than Missy thought. Maybe that was just the adrenaline talking.

Missy set off through the winding caves. "Do you know a way out of here?" she asked the girl, whose head was nestled in the crook of her neck.

The girl pointed to the left, toward a passageway that looked like it would take them straight into hell itself. "You sure?"

She felt the girl nod, and Missy had no choice but to trust her.

It was touch and go from there. Missy barking questions and the girl providing directions. The twists and turns of the mines were insane, and she wondered how in the world those mutants didn't get lost on a daily basis. Her feet thudded desperately against the hard packed dirt floor of the caves, occasionally going across a patch where they had decided to put down hardwood floors. Her heart pounded in her chest as she moved.

"There! There!" it was the first time the girl spoke, but the words were urgent. She was pointing to the side, where sunlight was shining through. Missy's heart leapt as she saw the ragged, weatherworn door, sun peaking through the slats in the wood. She turned that way, when a force stronger than anything she ever felt, pummeled her, sending her flying into the wall. The girl tumbled from her back and Missy felt the brunt of the blow, hearing the crack of her skull as it smashed against the wall.

Still conscious, Missy opened her eyes and looked at the door. It was there, taunting her with it's promise of escape. She looked to the girl, whose eyes were wide and staring ahead of her. Missy followed her gaze and saw a large man with hate in his eyes.

Hades, Missy thought. Though she didn't know why, she had an inkling that this was the man of which Chameleon was so in reverence. It could be no other. Being in his very presence was enough to make her want to retch. Sinister intentions rolled off him in waves.

Her head spinning, she got up and ran, grabbing the small girl and pressing her against her side as she did so.

She barreled her side into the door, and it burst open without much protest at all, as if it were just for show and not for actual use. The bright sun stunned her for a moment, and she felt a hand grasping at her collar, trying to pull her back. She fought for the light, desperate to feel it on her skin, desperate to get out of the place, desperate to save the girl as well as herself.

"Ruby!" the voice that called out was not that of the monster behind her, and it was not that of the girl she currently held. It was a new voice, rough as a sandstorm, and it held the most venom Missy had ever heard.

Her vision was blurred - she blamed it on the headshot - but she could just barely make out the person who had cried out. Bedraggled and bloodied, with wild hair and wilder eyes, holding something shining in his hand that he hurled at Hades. The object - a knife - sliced across Missy's cheek and hit Hades directly on the hand with insane precision. He let Missy go with a roar of pain, allowing her to stumble forward, holding the girl as if she were precious cargo.

Missy's head ached, felt like it was splitting in two, and she fell to the sand, which stung her wounded cheek. She was vaguely aware that she was mumbling, "Take me, not her," for reasons beyond her comprehension.

She felt a rough hand press against her face, brushing strands of hair away from her closed eyes, before she lost consciousness.

End Chapter Nine.