Teddy is waiting with the engine running as I stagger into the truck with a wet pile of fleshy Birth Brands gathered in my top.

"I shot Grey," Teddy says. as I drop down onto the seat, panting.

"What?" I falter.

"Don't worry, I missed purposefully. He wouldn't stop pestering me about driving this truck. I told him he needed to go with Sienna."

"Thanks."

"I know you want him to survive," Teddy says in a clipped tone. "Where's the gun I gave you?"

"Dropped it. Let's go." I dump the Birth Brands on the floor of the truck, wiping away the remnants of the gold shimmering liquid splattered across my hands. My one hand is shaking uncontrollably which meant I had to choose between holding the Birth Brands I'd gathered into my top or holding the gun. I choose the Birth Brands.

Teddy frowns at me, his eyes lingering on my shaking hand and leg.

"Teddy, let's go," I snap.

Teddy waves his hand out the window and the gates start to open, the grind of metal fills the tense silence. I'm holding my breath, Teddy is too. Through the widening gap, I see the trucks, the Officials.

"Get your head down," Teddy orders, pressing on the peddle causing the truck to sequel in protest as it starts to accelerate.

I don't move or respond as we hurtle towards the gate. All I can think is this is how I'll die; it won't be being killed by Officials as I had always expected but rather by smashing face-first into a solid gate.

The truck slips through the gap and at first, there's no sound, no movement. It's eerily quiet as though the entire world has paused in anticipation.

The windscreen shatters showering me in fragments of glass. Teddy ducks behind the wheel while his hand grabs me and pulls me down. Bullets fire overhead. Sharp loud shots punctuate the air and the truck crunches over objects below us. I now know the sound of bones being crushed by the wheels of a truck. A moment later, the bullets no longer fly over our head, they're hitting the back of the truck and the side mirrors.

Sitting up, Teddy pushes his foot further down on the pedal. The engine roars, the truck shudders, struggling to cope with the speed it's being forced to do.

"Put your seatbelt on," Teddy shouts. His hands grip the steering wheel, his knuckles an unnatural white.

"I think that's the least of our worries right now," I retort.

The shattered side mirror reflects numerous trucks following us but I'm not sure if it's an optical illusion or there are really that many in pursuit.

"I'm going to stop suddenly, so buckle up or you'll get killed being flung out the window," Teddy snaps.

I nod but both my hands are shaking which makes it impossible to secure the seatbelt. Teddy leans over, grabs the seatbelt and clips it in as we swerve across the road.

"Can you run?" Teddy says, his eyes are back on the road and he doesn't acknowledge the sound of one of our tyres exploding. Our truck swerves from side to side, slowing us down. The truck grinds and shudders as it strains to continue on three functioning tyres. Make that two functioning tyres now.

"I'll try," I say, pressing down on my shaking leg which I've realised have also gone numb.

"Why do you have to always play the martyr?" Teddy says with a clenched jaw as he shakes his head.

"I don't."

"Yes, you do. You should have let Grey come with me and you shouldn't have tried to find me," Teddy shouts angrily. "Sienna told me that was one of the reasons you volunteered to enter a labour camp."

"Teddy, we don't have time for this."

We jerk forward as our bumper is rammed by a truck behind us.

"This is possibly the only time we have," Teddy says. The truck is speeding up, veering off the road and into the line of trees. "Whatever happens, no matter who survives, can you try to live for yourself: free of guilt from other people's decisions?"

I don't have time to respond. My head slams into the dashboard and the world spins. Sound and vision blur together disorientating me.

A muffled voice says my name. I feel wetness across my face, across my back. It can't be blood, can it? This much blood would mean I'm dead and I can't be dead. Not yet.

"Don't move, Cady. Whatever you do, stay here," Teddy's voice says softly in my ear.

I try to remain still but my limbs continue to shudder involuntarily. I want to tell Teddy I can't. I can't stop the shaking or the tingling of my muscles. Peeling open my eyes, Teddy is absent. Instead, I detect mottled green and brown, a smell of damp decay. Maybe, I am dead. Maybe, this is it. I'm buried in the ground waiting for the rot to set in, for the worms and maggots to start to recycle me. Hopefully, I'll be of more use in the next stages of life.

My head thumps, my vision twitches in unison with the muscles in my legs and hands as a disrupted frequency transmits through my nervous system, I lay there unable to control my limbs but trying to obey the last part of Teddy's order. I stay here.

Drifting in and out of consciousness, I'm aware each time I awake the trembling has less to do with the toxin and more to do with the drop in temperature. The cold dampness has penetrated my clothes and flesh, reaching my bones which shudder and ache. I continue to wait. Teddy doesn't return.

Light turns to dark then returns to light again. The sun seeping through the gaps in the branches warm my face and birds chirp to signal a new day. Teddy isn't returning.

It takes me several attempts to sit, even more attempts to stand. My muscles shriek as I try to use them and my joints creak, stiff from both the abuse and lack of use. I stumble along, the body of a dead Official lays on the ground then there's one more up ahead. Past that, I see Teddy.

I don't kneel beside him. I don't say any kind words or try to give him a special send-off. I don't want this to be my last memory of him. This isn't the boy I took a liking too because I thought he was so innocent. This isn't my first real friend or the boy who gave me gentle kisses and made me laugh. He's not even the boy who betrayed me, lied to me or the one who saved me. This is just an empty shell, a Teddy body with none of what made him important and special to me.

Leaving his body behind, I try not to dwell on all the things I could have said, should have said. It's too late, any words I say now are useless.