Well would you look at that, we're already at the ninth chapter.

Enjoy!

• • •

"Should we follow it?" Patrick asks, gesturing to the stream. It still seems extremely bizarre to me that the water appears to be defying gravity, and even stranger still, that it's salt. I mean, technically it could be possible, if there were any oceans near Mount Wescott. But there aren't.

"Yeah, can we?" Aaron asks excitedly. "I really want to see an upward flowing waterfall."

"I can't believe that sentence actually makes sense to me right now," Mae mutters under get breath.

That makes two of us.

"I say we follow it," Noah agrees with Patrick. "What have we got to lose?"

I shrug. Our minds maybe, but then again, maybe I'm already losing mine.

Or our lives. To hell with lives, who needs those?

"Everyone good?" Noah calls, receiving unenthusiastic nods, except for Aaron, he always seems to be enthusiastic. "Okay, someone please keep Aaron at least five feet from the water, I don't need him to test out drowning again."

Aaron groans in contest, but shuffles further from the water. We walk for hours, and oddly enough, the stream continues in a straight line. It has no curves or bends, which you would expect from a body of water with a current. It's almost too uniform.

Other than the two obvious features of an uphill current, and salt water, the stream almost looks measured. Manmade. But who in Mount Wescott would bother to build a feature as useless as this?

If it is Manmade, then they must have used some kind of building material to get the shape so perfect. It must have a foundation.

I tap Noah on the shoulder, telling him to stop walking, and he turns to question me but I'm already moving towards the water. The very edge is unstable and the dirt is loose. I kick some of the bank into the water and it floats upstream. I kick all of the loose dirt, which falls away fairly easily. Crouching down, I notice what I suspected.

"Concrete," Noah mutters as he kneels next to me. "That's definitely not mother natures doing."

I scratch the back of my neck. "This makes no sense."

"You just worked that out?" Noah asks, quirking an eyebrow.

I shake my head. "No, not that, well yes that, but this stream doesn't run through town, and you said you've never seen it before, so where exactly is the water being supplied from?"

Noah sighs, standing up. "I'll just add it to the list of unknowns."

We continue to walk in silence, but something feels off about this place. It's eerily quiet and it just feels like we're being watched, like someone doesn't want us here. I am constantly looking around, scanning for any suspicious movement.

I mentally scold myself for being so paranoid.

You're not alone anymore. You watch their backs and they'll watch yours.

I suck in a breath of air and continue to walk. I see a dark shape from the corner of my eye, but when I look, it's gone.

So paranoid.

I try to shake the feeling, giving myself an internal pep talk. It doesn't work, and the fact that everyone else seems oblivious only adds to my increasing stress level.

I see a flash of black in my peripheral vision, and I hear the crunching of dead leaves underfoot, but it isn't us making the noise.

"Noah?" I hiss, looking around wearily.

"Yeah, Princess?" He replies.

Before I get the chance to respond, I'm tackled from the side. The force of the blow throws me near the stream, and I land flat on my back. I lay gasping for breath for only a few seconds, but in this time my attacker has already pinned me to the ground with one hand. The other hand wields a wooden post with nails and shards of glass protruding from it. He holds the weapon very close to my neck, saliva gathering at the corners of his mouth like a rabid dog. He is infected.

"He told me to kill you," he slurs, growling like a wild animal. I feel his spit land on my face.

"Who?" I demand, desperately trying to push the destructive looking weapon away from me. It cuts my hands, and I grunt with effort as I try to kick my way out if his hold.

"He told me to kill you," he repeats, a manic smile revealing itself, his empty eye sockets visible as he opens his eyes.

"Who told you?!" I yell in frustration and desperation, using all of my energy in one giant shove. In comparison to him, my strength is dismal, but I catch him off guard which allows me a split second to get off the ground.

I use the stream as an advantage, submerging his head in the water as much as possible. He loses his weapon of destruction in the process.

If I can't beat him with brute strength, then I'll just drown him.

My brilliant idea doesn't last too long as he thrashes in the water and I struggle to hold him down, he throws an arm back with force, his elbow connecting with my face and sending me flying backwards.

I clutch my nose as it gushes with blood, trying my best to back away, as the infected man approaches once again. I brace myself for impact, but Noah dashes in front of me, tackling him away from his original path.

I sigh, falling back. About time.

The man lets out an animalistic roar, grabbing Noah around the neck with one hand and lifting him off the ground. Noah is suspended in the air and his back is violently slammed into a large tree trunk. His feet dangle idly, and he claws at the mans hand on his neck.

He will die if someone doesn't distract the rabid, barely human creature.

I look to the rest of the group for help but they prove useless. Stan is halfway up a tree, with Cassidy not far behind. Garrett looks as though he could be contemplating what to have for dinner, and Patrick definitely won't make a move if Garrett doesn't. Mae just looks frozen with fear.

Let's not even talk about what Aaron is doing.

I grunt with the effort of even moving as I attempt to stand, wincing as I wipe my nose with the back of my hand. It leaves a trail of blood. There isn't a doubt in my mind that at least a couple of my ribs are broken, but nobody else is stepping forward to save Noah, so I guess that makes it my job.

I stumble towards the beast of a man, trying to make as little noise as possible. I draw my knife, edging ever closer. Noah's eyes are starting to roll back into his head, a sure sign of unconsciousness.

"Hey asshole!" I call, causing him to turn around, dropping Noah on the ground with a thud.

He smiles psychotically at me, brandishing fingernails as sharp as razors and long enough to slice through skin.

But I have a knife.

I charge, plunging the blade as far as I can into his heart, but not before his fingernails get the chance to swipe my neck, drawing blood which drips down my back and shoulder.

He clutches his chest, stumbling and lurching as he coughs up blood. He lunges for me, still attempting to kill me as he dies. It is his mission after all, the mission set by a mysterious individual. I try to dive out of his way, but he catches my foot, dragging me in his direction. Much to my horror, I feel the fingernails rip through the flesh of my calf muscle in one movement. The pain is searing and I cry out.

I close my eyes, waiting for this to be the end, but it doesn't eventuate. I hear the sound of an arrow piercing the air, before lodging itself in the infected man, who lets out a roar. I hear a second arrow fly, and this time I see it pierce his throat. Blood spills as he gasps and scrapes at his throat with his sharpened fingernails. Within moments he is laying on his back, dead still.

I push myself along the ground, having an inability to walk. I snap off both of the arrows that are now ingrained in this man forever. Although his eyes are gone, I still give him the dignity of gently peeling his eyelids over his empty eye sockets.

Then I lay on the ground, closing my eyes and covering the claw marks on my neck with one hand. I am lucky to be alive.

But who the hell saved me?

That question is answered by footsteps approaching. I open my eyes, and I'm immediately met by a human of the male variety. He has floppy brown hair, a bow in one hand, and a quiver of arrows slung over his shoulder.

I narrow my eyes at him. "Who the hell are you?"

He lets out a breathy laugh.

I don't find this to be a particularly humorous situation.

"I'm Flynn, but everyone calls me Fly."

He offers me a hand which I take cautiously, wincing as I put weight on the leg that was ripped apart by the infected man.

Flynn looks at my leg. "You should really get that seen to."

"It'll heal," I respond, glancing at Noah, who still lays in a heap on the ground at the bottom of the tree trunk. Mae sits helplessly on the ground next to him, her bottom lip quivering, as she stares at his lifeless body.

I make my way over to him, crouching down, I roll him onto his back with a shove. I touch two of my fingers to his neck, which is bruised, with bloody fingernail imprints decorating the left side. I search for a pulse, but come back with nothing. His chest isn't rising either.

He looks dead, but then sleeping people look dead too. I guess it's a matter of perception.

I take his hand, squeezing it. "Wake up dammit," I demand in a last ditch effort. There is no response.

I glare at him, holding his hand more tightly. "Stop being such a dramatic ass and wake the hell up!" Suddenly I feel a sensation in my hand, and I look down to see Noah's fingers curling around mine. His eyes suddenly fly open, and he gasps, gulping the air that he had been deprived of.

I help him sit up, and Mae silently wraps her arms around him, sobbing on his shoulder. He responds by holding her, and talking quietly in her ear as she cries.

I stand up and move away, not wanting to interrupt the family moment.

From where I'm standing, I can hear their conversation.

"You were dead," Mae sniffles.

"It's gonna take a lot more than that to get rid of me," he jokes. "I promised mom and dad that I would always be around to keep an eye on you, and you know better than anyone that I don't go back on promises.

She removes her head from his shoulder, wiping her eyes with her hand. "I can't believe you're not even hurt."

Noah just shrugs. I frown.

The bruising is already gone. He has already healed.

I turn my head to look at my own leg. Apart from the torn and bloody fabric around my calf muscle, it isn't apparent that I had been sliced up. In fact, I'm not even left with a physical scar.

"That's a good magic trick."

I whip around to see Flynn watching me.

"Tell anyone and you'll find yourself with one of your own arrows protruding from your throat," I threaten. I'm acutely aware that everyone knows my wound basically healed overnight, but I'm hoping that today's events have made them forget, and I don't need the new guy going around telling everyone.

He raises his hands in surrender. "My lips are sealed."

I hear twigs snapping behind me, and I turn around to see Noah approaching me. He appears unscathed.

He gives me a nod. "Princess."

I roll my eyes. "Sleeping beauty."

He doesn't respond to my attempt at humour.

Well I thought it was funny.

Instead he looks at Flynn scrutinisingly. "Who the fuck are you?"

"The gratitude around here really is astounding," he mutters to himself before sticking out his hand for Noah to shake. "I'm Flynn."

Noah stares judgementally at his hand, as if deciding whether it is safe to engage in contact with this outsider.

He finally flicks eyes from his hand, to his face. "That's nice."

I smack him upside the head. "He saved my life."

He shrugged. "I don't trust him."

"Let me just repeat myself. He saved my life," I reiterate.

"I heard you the first time princess," he says, causing me to scowl. He turns to Flynn. "Don't take it personally, I don't trust her either."

My mouth drops open. How dare he.

"I've saved your life at least twice," I reply defensively.

"You've killed twelve people," he replies pointedly.

Okay, ouch.

"Oh come on, you can't use that against me, they were trying to kill me!" I respond, my voice going up an octave as I battle to win this war of words.

"So that justifies killing them?"

"What was I supposed to do? Ask them to join me for supper?"

We have an intense stare off for several seconds, both of us glaring at the other, before Flynn clears his throat.

We both glance in his direction.

"So are you guys like a thing, or...?"

I look at Noah, and he looks at me, and then we both look at Flynn.

"No," we reply in unison.

• • •

So, what do you think about Flynn? Do you think they should let him into camp, or is Noah right not to trust him?

Anyway, it has been a pleasure as always. Please Comment, vote and follow.

Oh, and whatever you do, don't join the mafia.

Until next time.