Jaxon drove us through town in silence, but it wasn't uncomfortable. I was wearing my hoodie (as usual) with my hood up so that it would be harder to see my face through the window. It was nighttime, but in my opinion, that was all the more reason to wear my hoodie. Being pale-skinned with nearly white hair had more disadvantages than not when trying to hide. I forced myself to stare at my lap the entire time instead of looking through the window, even though we mostly took the back roads, where the only lighting around was the occasional street lamp. A part of me knew that I was being extremely paranoid, and the other part just couldn't find the strength to care.

It was just me, Jaxon, and the silence that stood between us as he drove. Somehow, though, I didn't mind the silence. Jaxon didn't bother turning on the radio, and neither did I. It was just us two, driving down the street. Just a couple of teenagers looking for something to do.

But I didn't feel much like a teenager, and as I glanced up at Jaxon, studying his face that was half covered in shadow until we passed the occasional street lamp, I wondered if he felt the same, too. He looked older than he should. He drove with one hand on the steering wheel, the other in his lap, and he looked completely at ease - and he wasn't speeding.

What kind of teenage boy didn't speed on the back roads? I wanted to ask how he got involved in all of this, what he was doing before he saw what he 'wasn't supposed to'. The brief conversation he'd had with Quil bothered me even more. Quil thought that it was my fault Ven got snatched, and he had been all too willing to place the blame on Jaxon as well. Had Jaxon suggested something to Quil, and Quil listened? My mouth suddenly went sour at the thought. I didn't want to know what it was that Jaxon had suggested, but I felt like I already knew. Ven knew who the other victims were, and he'd chosen to reach out to me, of all people, to help him.

You idiot, I wanted to yell at him. What were you hoping to accomplish?

Jaxon must have felt me watching him, because he turned his gaze briefly from the road to glance at me before concentrating back on driving.

Yet he didn't ask me what I was thinking. He didn't ask me anything, which made me want to scream at him even more. Did he know what was going through my head, or did he not want to ask questions because he knew that I would only turn them back on him?

He scared the hell out of me. I wanted to know why he wanted to help me, and why he waited until now out of all these years to admit how he felt about me. After learning that he knew about the flashdrive, I had thought that that had been an act, but after seeing his friends' reactions to me (not to mention his confrontation with Landon), I was beginning to wonder if there had been some truth there, after all. Was he ever going to tell me? Or was he just going to sit back and watch until he felt he had to step in before someone stabbed me in the back? What would he have done if I'd managed to get myself a boyfriend?

Like Jet? a traitorous voice murmured in the back of my mind. Fuck, him and the others must be scared shitless with everything going on around me.

I grinded my teeth together in frustration. I was being targeted by a group of crazies who were taking kids' eyeballs, and here I was stumbling over myself because of a boy. But I was right to question it, wasn't I? There was something unhealthy, here, or at least something that wasn't right. What boy put his life on the line for a girl that didn't return the feeling - a girl that, until recently, would not so much as look in his direction unless it was to tell him to back the hell off?

I forced my eyes back on my lap, hating the burning creeping in at my eyes, and I clenched my fists at my sides when the first of the tears fell. I didn't know if Jaxon noticed, but I didn't pull away when he switched his hands on the steering wheel so that his right hand was free, and he used it to gently rest over mine. You'll be okay, the gesture said.

I closed my eyes. I saw it all the time, a couple of kids who thought they had to fight the world to survive. I always thought it was cheesy and pathetic. Yet here I was, terrified out of my mind. Under any other circumstance, I would have spat and cursed at him - or maybe even socked him in the face.

Nothing brought people closer than shared pain and suffering. But if there was anything that living in the apartments had taught me, it was that nothing separated people faster than fear and the prospect of pain. I wondered what it was in this situation.

Eventually, the surroundings of the highway we drove on faded from open plains to forestry. If my memory was accurate, we were heading west, towards the open, untamed country that would lead to the mountains if we drove for another five or so hours straight. No one really came out here often unless they wanted to go hunting or camping - or hide particular evidence, and I'll admit, my heartbeat did pick up slightly, although I didn't say anything. The streetlamps stopped appearing, so the only light we had to go by were the car's head beams.

Finally, Jaxon turned onto an old, worn dirtroad that I didn't see through all the trees until we nearly passed it. I noticed that we were gradually going uphill, and the condition of the road worsened the further we went. I wondered how many people knew it even existed, and the car certainly did not seem to enjoy all the potholes we drove over, yet Jaxon didn't flinch or even let go of my hand to gain better control of the steering wheel. He knew what he was doing. I think.

If he was going to kill and hide my body, nobody would be ever the wiser.

Relax, Tria, I told myself, and was almost shocked when, after a few moments of self-evaluation, my body did just that.

It felt as if we had been driving forever and a half until we reached an opening where the trees faded just enough to easen the claustrophobia that'd been tightening my chest - I didn't even realize that that was what it was until we reached the clearing. Jaxon drove off the road and onto a small plain of grass, turned, and finally took his hand from mine to set the vehicle in park. He cut the engine with the turn of a key.

And here I thought that it was silent before he turned the car off. Quizzically, I looked around. We were at a small dip, where ahead was a hill that obscured my vision from travelling further. Not that it being pitch-black in the middle of nowhere helped, either.

Jaxon reached underneath his seat to pull out a flashlight.

"What are we doing?" I asked, tentatively - the first thing either of us said since going out on the semi-long drive. A ghost of a smile touched Jaxon's lips.

"It's a surprise," he replied. He flicked the flashlight on, and I wasn't sure of how to feel at the excitement that hinted in his eyes, a reminder that again, we were barely old enough to be hitting adulthood. He opened his door while stuffing his keys in his pocket, then gestured to me. "C'mon. It'll be fun."

Well, he had the keys. Question was, did I want to make an attempted murder easier on him so that he wouldn't have to carry the body far?

Sighing, I shook my head and reluctantly opened my own door. I really needed to stop finding myself in these situations.

Stepping out, I nearly flinched from the blast of cold air that hit my face. As if to reassure me that I wasn't just being a wuss, I was able to see my breath when I exhaled, clear and white underneath the light provided by the full moon above until a series of clouds were shoved over the ball of rock by a freezing gust of wind.

I walked over to Jaxon's side with my hands stuffed beneath my armpits. My hoodie was not quite thick enough for these temperatures, so I hoped that we wouldn't be out here for long.

Yet I should have known that he was going to be prepared, being the son of a security businessman and all. Jaxon had closed his own door, but was opening up the back door on the driver's side to pull out a thick winter coat. He handed it to me without looking up, and I took it after a moment's hesitation.

"But what about you-" I began, and quickly stopped when I saw that he was grabbing another jacket for himself. "Was this planned, too?" I asked dryly, and Jaxon laughed.

"I figured you didn't want to be seen around town," he explained, "and no one likes staying down in the Basement for as long as we sometimes have to."

"The Basement? You actually have a name for that bunker of yours?"

Jaxon didn't reply, but he didn't need to. The grin that had pulled at his lips was responsive enough. He shrugged his jacket over his original clothes, setting the flashlight on top of the car as he did so. I had just finished zipping up the one he gave me when he grabbed the flashlight and locked the car. As expected, the jacket was a little bigger on me than it was on him, but it wasn't big enough for me to feel like I was being swallowed by wool.

He walked past me, saying over his shoulder,

"Up for a hike? It's just up this hill."

"What is?" I questioned.

"You'll see."

Grumbling beneath my breath, but undeniably curious, I sped-walked to catch up to him. He was only a few inches taller than me, as were most boys in Buation (really, it didn't much matter that I was tall for a girl sometimes), yet he was able to make my strides look like a child's with how fast he was walking. What could possibly be over this hill to make him so excited to show me?

I quickly found out once we reached the top, though. It wasn't a hill that we were on. It was a cliff.