{Continued}

  I automatically scramble backwards as Ben approaches, my jacket falling open so there's only my dirty t-shirt over my torso. I immediately hold in a cry of pain as my left shoulder reacts with a flash of pain, pins and needles spreading up and down my arm.

  Biting my lip to contain the pain filled grunt, I drag my useless left shoulder as my right begins to move in shimmy-like-jerks. Slowly moving my body across the gravely ground as my feet push me backwards.

  My clinched eyes stay stuck on Ben as he approaches, feet continuing to push me backwards as alarms go off in my brain like someone's blowing a horn right in my ear.

  Ben stumbles towards me in a half fall, his arms coming out to catch him before he pushes himself back up. His walk is more like a limp, his right leg dragging. His eyes stay latched on my pathetic form laying helpless by the road, his right arm snapping up before quickly moving down.

  I wince as there's a loud snap from the whip, much louder now that we're out in the open. My back throbs as dozens of permanent scars come alive with the sound, my panicked mind too occupied to try and block out the unwanted memories that now circle in the back of my head.

  "You." Ben seethes from twenty feet away, a deranged look in his eye. "You!"

  I quickly look up and down the road, hoping maybe someone - anyone, might be driving down this old interstate.

  Nothing but the small gas station far up the road. Nothing but a blob in the distance.

  My breathing switches back to the unsteady, quick spurts. The panic in my chest growing as it tightens it to the point it hurts.

  "Why does everything go wrong when you're involved?!" Ben yells as he takes a extra large step towards me, clearing the last few feet while he swings the whip down.

  Snap.

  I scrunch up as the whip strikes my t-shirt clad side, my slow movements faltering as a sharp line of fire takes its place. The thin material not doing anything to help.

  Ben raises the whip up again, and I immediately curl up on my right side. Ignoring the pain that comes with it as I tuck my knees up to my chest.

  Snap.

My body jerks as it strikes my left bicep, the noise dulling just a fraction as it comes in contact with the leather over my arm.

  My hands clinch into fists behind my back, the coarse rope digging into my skin as I repeatedly tug against them. Neither my mind nor body liking the restriction.

Snap.

I jerk again as the whip strikes my left side, a hiss leaving my lips as it stings my skin far harsher than the ones before.

  "You don't understand what this means for me!" He thunders down at me, his voice ringing in my ears.

  Snap.

  I can't contain the small shout of pain as the whip manages to strike my already sore stomach, a flash of heat hitting me just as painfully.

  "I'm ruined." His voice quiets, like he just realized this himself. "I'm ruined!"

  I squint my eyes open when the whip doesn't come down again, the agonizing wait causing my heart to beat double-time.

  Ben stands above me, his hands grasping his anguished face as he stares up at the sky. The whip trailing down beside him.

  "There's no point." He mumbles to himself, sounding slightly hysterical. Eyes crazed as they dawn with realization.

  He makes a sound between a laugh and a cry, looking back down at me.

  I unconsciously wince, looking away as I prepare myself for more pain than what's already circling through my body.

"I've got nothing left." He places his empty hand on the side of his head. Pulling it away, he looks down at his now blood covered hand.

  He sways, his eyes fluttering a second as his nostrils draw in a large breath. Struggling not to succumb to unconsciousness.

  His eyes snap down to me, a malicious glint lighting inside.

My heart clinches as he suddenly falls to his knees beside me, my body tensing as I tuck my head further down into my chest.

  I wince as he once again grabs the top of my head, forcefully tugging my head up to meet his.

  "But there's one thing I can do." He smiles as he looks my face over, and that's when I realize he's not in his right mind.

  He lets the whip drop to the ground between us, immediately moving his now free hand to dig into his back pocket. Bringing out a knife.

  He flips it open, a six inch piece of razor sharp steel springing free.

"You know, Alex." He leans forward so he's over me, forcing my head back against the ground. "I'd love to just cut you for the fun of it - like Razim so enjoyed." His lips move in a sick smile, and I swallow as he holds the knife up to my exposed neck. Frozen in place as I barely even risk breathing.

He stares down at the knife as he lightly traces it across my tender skin. The feeling invoking a volley of goosebumps up on my arms.

Is this it? Is Ben finally going to do what so many have tried and failed?

  He sighs. "It's sick, I know." He rolls his eyes. "But maybe that's who I really I am." His eyes find mine, a knowing look in them.

  My throat clinches, heart skipping a beat.

  "I've admired all you've done, Alex. Your daring adventures."

  I flinch away as he abruptly moves the knife away from my neck, reaching around behind me.

"But what I really found interesting when I was reading your files, is what Razim did to you." He smiles again. "All his...torturing."

  My breathing seems to echo in my ears, heart thumping painfully fast.

  His eyes grow distant. "That's when I realized I'm sicker than even I thought." He laughs again, the sound something's akin to what a insane person would make.

  "Because I found it all very...interesting." He whispers. "I found that I liked it."

The pressure around my right wrist suddenly leaves as he cuts the rope from around my wrists, pulling it free from the other.

  He places the now folded knife back in his pocket, hand tightening in my hair. "But alas, I won't be delving deeper into my newfound....enjoyments." His dilated eyes pierce my wide ones.

  He leans back, completely switching topic. "Alex, have you ever realize why you've survived through everything you've done - that you've been through?" He questions.

"Why out of all the times you should've died, you didn't?"

I get a sudden sinking feeling, chest growing tighter as my foggy mind swirls with guilt.

He shrugs. "It's simple really. It's because," he stares at me. "The only reason you live is because everyone else around you dies in your place."

  My breath suddenly feels like it's missing, and I struggle to reclaim it as my mind grows heavy. Body seizing at his words.

  Could he be....right?

  Ben smiles, obviously happy he got this reaction out of me. "Dear, dear, troubled Alex." He shakes his head. "Everyone around him dies. He can't keep a family. He's a mess." His eyes glint once more.

  "He's more screwed up inside than anyone knows!" He shouts, only meaning one possible thing.

  I shrink away, heart stopping as I look down at the ground in shame. 

  "Yes, Alex. Let all your pain, your frustration, your guilt-" His voice rises. "-Let it all build up inside you. Keep it in. You wouldn't want the browns' to see you otherwise. They'd be disgusted in you, and you know it."

  My heart races, mind tumbling in a disarray.

  How....how'd he even...know about that?

  "But you better be careful," his hand tightens in my hair, drawing my face closer to his. "You wouldn't want them to be added to your ever growing pile of deaths."

  My mind freezes, eyes locking on his.

  "Then there's Mack, Polly, and even my own sister now." He gestures back to the van. "Unless she's already dead. Though that's still on you." His left hand lets go of my hair, immediately grabbing my right wrist.

  I jerk it away, but he just pulls it back.

  He shakes his head. "So many people. So many possibilities." He reaches back behind him with his right hand, and I automatically tense.

  "Now you get to add me to that list."

  He suddenly thrusts something into my right hand he's grasping with his left, the object hard and cold.

  My breath catches as I realize it's a HK VP40 pistol, my pain clouded mind stopping.

  No.

  He forces my limp hand around the frame, clasping his own hand over mine. "You always wanted to carry a gun with you on your missions. Well now's your chance to use one." He jabs it up-

  Right onto his forehead.

  I suddenly can't catch my breath, my arm jerking backwards.

He tightens his hand around mine, his other hand roughly grabbing the top of my head again as he restrains me.

I halfheartedly kick my legs out, each one feeling like three hundred pounds as my head continues to grow heavier.

  Yes. Let me pass out so I can wake up from this nightmare!

He quickly places his leg down over my knees, effectively restraining them as he stares down at me. Not a flinch of hesitation on his face.

  "Do it, Alex." He pushes the gun further up against his forehead, hand tightening painfully over my own.

  I shake my head, eyes growing warm as a sob gets stuck somewhere back in my throat.

  Pathetic.

  He frowns, roughly shaking my head in frustration. "Do it!" He yells, making me wince from the near proximity.

  I look up at him from underneath my hair, a clog in my throat. "No." I croak out, barely containing the bucket load of emotions that want so desperately to pour out.

  He suddenly lets go, his eyes thunderous as he swing his hand back down.

There's a sharp sting on my cheek as he smacks me, my head jerking to the side from the force. There's a immediate taste of copper in my mouth as I bite my tongue, that sob almost escaping.

  "DO IT!" His grip tightens to the point I feel the small bones in my hand bend, his pointy finger pushing my own down against the trigger.

  The safety off.

  A few tears spring free from my eyes, my mouth open as my rapid breathing fills the now quiet air.

  No!

  His angered eyes drill into mine, not looking the least bit affected. "You know you want to. After everything I've done." He blows a slow breath out. "You want revenge."

  I shake my head again, feeling completely helpless.

"Go ahead, Alex." He pushes my head down further against the ground. "Add me to your list. Just like everyone else that's soon to come."

  I can't help but think back to all the times people died when it came to me. Evil or good.

  "And while you're at it, why don't you finish yourself off also?"

  I look away from his dead serious gaze, chest only growing tighter as I work to remove the lump in my throat.

   "Oh, and before you permanently remove me from this retched world, I should tell you one more thing that'll ruin your life more than it already is." Ben says, voice low.

  He moves closer to me. "Your friend from MI6 has been lying to you."

  My eyes snap back up to his face, heart suddenly growing heavier as my struggling against him stills.

Mrs. Jones?

  His finger forces mine over the trigger, my mind too occupied to realize as it tries to process what he just said.

  What?

  He opens his mouth, and I suddenly find my world caving in as his words send more terror throughout me than I can handle.

  "Razim is still alive."

~~*~~
Dare's (POV)

  "Come on damn it!" I jerk my shoulders, tugging harder against the stupid ropes that bind my wrists together.

Who ever invented rope in the first place?

  It's been a whole three minutes since I abruptly woke up to find I'm laying against the van door as the van lays on its side after finally stopping its rolling.

  Because I apparently blacked out for who-knows-how-long.

  The big dude who was driving dangles from his seat above me, unconscious from what I'm assuming is that big dent in the window shield. His seatbelt the only thing keeping him from falling down on me.

  Three minutes I've yet to see Ben or Alex.

  A headache throbs in the back of my skull, my neck more than sore. But miraculously nothing feels broken. Sprained maybe.

  I know, I know. That was a stupid idea to purposely cause a wreck while going seventy miles per hour on the interstate.

  What was I possibly thinking?

  Well, it was either risk dying in a car accident that could work to rescue both Alex and I, or risk going back to my father who I know won't be very forgiving.

  For either of us.

  Because apparently Alex isn't just someone who may have had something that could put the underground out of business for good. No, he's apparently someone who was - is? - a part of the underground.

  Even if he's only fifteen.

  Which is why I'm thinking maybe he was like kidnapped - I'm not putting it past them, and he somehow escaped with that drive that possibly holds information about the underground?

  Ex-spy.

The word floats unbidden to the front of my mind, making me think this might be more than I even think.

  I smile in triumph as I feel my wrist slide through the last bit of rope I'd been working on. It slides free with one more tug, and I quickly undo the other side.

  Bringing my hands up, I quickly relish the cool relief after having had them back there for awhile before I tug the gag from around my throat.

  Because that apparently fell down through all the tumbling.

I reach forward, opening the dashboard console before I feel around inside.

Come on. I saw them put it in here-

"Yes." I lift the phone out, not even bothering to shut the console as I quickly dial 911.

There's a three second pause - no ringing, then there's a voice on the other end. I cut it off.

  "There's been a car accident. We need immediate help. We're somewhere on a old abandoned interstate not too far from a old gas station. Hurry!" I ramble into the phone, pressing 'end' right as the clear voice speaks again.

  No time. Hopefully that's enough information for the police at Lazy River town. Because that's where it connected me to....I hope.

  I press the button on my seatbelt, releasing myself from its confinement. Carefully maneuvering through the shards of glass, I shakily step over the passenger seat, heading for the opening of light in the back.

  Using the wall - ceiling? - to lean on as the interior of the van suddenly shifts from beneath my feet, I make my way forward.

  Four steps from the opening, I suddenly pause as a ear-piercing pow echoes out from outside.

My heart stops, dread leaking from every pore as my feet threaten to wobble out from under me.

No. What I'm thinking did not just happen.

Slowly this time, I walk the last few steps forward, ducking under the door as I step outside.

The cloudy world makes my head hurt worse as I squint through the slight glare, my stomach turning like I'm about to be sick.

  And that's when my eyes land on two figures no more than twenty yards from the van.

  Alex is currently laying on his back, propped up with his right shoulder. He looks terrible, like someone took a pair of scissors and decided to just casually rip up his clothes.

  Tears mar both his jeans and white t-shirt. Even his leather jacket doesn't look unscathed. Lines of....blood staining the material around a few of those tears.

  His hair sits in tangles on his head, falling down so it brushes down in his eyes.

  I stare at his pale - too pale, face. A liquid of some sort dots his face, a red mark spread along his left cheek like the aftermath from being smacked. His expression one of stark horror as he stares down at something.

   Something as-in the still body of....Ben.

   I almost vomit right then and there as I look his face over.

   His eyes are shut, his face almost...peaceful if not for the bloody hole that now sits in his forehead. Body limp.

  There's a sharp stab of disbelief along with some unexpected sadness that hits my heart, my breathing turning shallow.

  He's....dead.

  My eyes snap back over to Alex - to the gun he has clasped in one hand.

  Alex....killed him?

  I blink, my mind not computing as a faint feeling almost makes me fall to the ground in grief.

  Not because I mourn this Ben - the Ben that works with the underground. But for the Ben I knew growing up. Before everything went sour after mom was killed.

The Ben that used to read me to sleep while we waited for her to return home. The Ben that played barbies with me because I didn't have anyone else to. The Ben that took my side for any childish argument.

  The Ben I used to love.

  He was twelve when mom passed. It hit him harder than any of us I think. I for one was too young to fully grasp the concept at the time. And dad...well, he's dad.

  I immediately could tell Ben was different after that officer came and told us the bad news. It was like someone brought in a completely different Ben and replaced it with mine.

  He started getting into fights at school, he was closed off, irritated all the time. Then during high school he started getting involved with the wrong things....the wrong people.

  Which is what leads me to believe father recruited him right after he turned eighteen - when he practically disappeared from my life for good.

  Whenever I would ask father where he went, he'd simply say he's left for 'bigger' things.

  And I accepted it. Not knowing that my own father practically runs the underground alongside my brother.

  That is until I came home early one afternoon when I was supposed to be at a school field trip - I skipped, and heard voices up in father's office.

  And being me, I went to find out what was going on.

  What'd I find?

  Father was sitting in his large chair behind his oak desk, and Ben was fuming about something as he walked back and forth in front of him.

  And instead of feeling elated that my brother was finally visiting after four whole years. I felt dread.

  I think I always knew something fishy was up with my father. And I finally proved it.

So listening in on their conversation, I came to the conclusion that one: my brother works for the wretched underground - the same one that killed our mother. And two: my father is one of head honchos.

  And that's when I decided to book it out of there.

  So throughout all that, I still can't help but feel...grief over this.

  My brother is...dead. Not alive. Never to move again.

  I return back to the present, eyes going back to Alex to help distract myself from the stiff body beside him.

  Even if he did shoot him, it was in self-defense. Alex isn't to blame.

  Forcing myself forward, I make a large loop around them so I walk up to Alex's left side.

  He continues to stare down at Ben, his eyes practically unblinking as his mouth stays halfway open. His chest moves in quick movements, breathing sounding more than labored.

  Is he...alright?

  Obviously not Dare.

  I slowly crouch down by his side, stretching my arm out towards him. He jumps as I place my hand on his shoulder, coming alive like I electrocuted him.

  The gun falls from his hand like he didn't even realize he was holding it, and he scrambles backwards. Using his feet to practically scoot himself back.

  He sucks in a breath as he put his weight down on his left shoulder, and he falls the five or so inches back to the ground as it gives out on him. His frantic eyes suddenly land on me, immediately filling with....guilt?

  And that's when I realize his face is dotted with blood - Ben's undoubtedly, obvious tear tracks running down his cheeks.

  What exactly happened?

  "D-Dare." He stutters through his rapid breaths, sounding like he almost can't breath as his chest rises and falls much too quickly for such short breaths.

  He swallows thickly, eyes glancing back over to Ben before he looks back at me. "I-I." He licks his dry lips, blinking a few times like he's having trouble focusing.

  Wait...did he fall out of the van?

  That thought sends me on high alert, eyes scanning him for any possible life threatening injuries.

  I suddenly spot something on the right side of his head. A dark patch, matted hair. Blood flowing down the side of his head.

  My heart clinches in fear. How bad is it?

I've heard of accidents where someone injures their head and passes out afterwards, which sometimes leads to people going into comas.

  Sometimes for a very long time.

  I glance down the road, hoping maybe I'll see some sliver of a vehicle.

  I thought the town wasn't very far away?

  His eyes flutter again, his head back against the gravel ground.

  "Alex, Alex!" I carefully touch his shoulder again, half expecting him to flinch away like last time.

  He doesn't. He just continues to stare over at Ben, eyes glassy as his face only continues to grow paler than it already was. Breathing turning shallower as he remains still.

  Is he going into....shock?

  I move my hand behind his head, gently lifting it up as I position myself differently. I lay it back down on my lap so it's propped up, my hand automatically going up to caress his hair over his forehead in a calming gesture.

  I frown as a heat seems to radiate off his forehead, sweat matting his hair down against his forehead. A fever.

  What's wrong?

   His right hand suddenly moves to his left he has laying on top of his stomach, grasping at the rope that still binds it. His face immediately turns from impassive, to highly uncomfortable.

  His breathing hitches, his hand only tugging on his limp left hand harder as almost...frightened sounds begin to leave his lips.

  "Get...off...off!" His voice picks up in panic, his eyes growing wider as he realizes he can't remove it.

  I place my hand over his right, pressing it down. His eyes come back up to me, and my heart tugs as I notice how broken they suddenly look. A uncontrollable - deep, fear present. A look in them like he's seen a ghost. Aghast, surprised, overwhelmed.

  Too much.

  "You'll be okay." I assure him, not able to really think of anything else to say at the moment.

  Isn't that what you tell people when they're hurt and stuff?

  I let go of his right hand, using both of mine to work on undoing the tight knots around his left wrist. His hand even looking deprived of blood from the loss of blood flow.

  I get the urge to slip his jacket sleeve up to examine that mark I saw earlier. Only to quickly stifle it.

I'm sure he wouldn't appreciate it.

  As I'm holding it up to remove the last knot, I suddenly notice how limp it is.

  Did he break something?

  "I-I...he." Alex stutters, his breath hitching again as what sounds like a sob gets stuck in his throat.

  "Shhh." I hush, moving my hand back to his forehead to continue caressing it.

  He breaths out a shaky breath, his right hand clinching in a fist as he slowly swallows. Obviously difficult.

  His eyes flutter again, his hand loosening.

  "Hey, stay with me here. Someone should be here any moment." I tell him, hoping that might help boost his vigor towards staying awake.

   His face seems to fall, and all I can do is stare as his eyes begin to grow wet.

  "H-He's....alive." He practically sobs, sounding so helpless and child-like I can't help but hold him a little tighter.

  Something's happened to him. Something before.

  But what's that supposed to mean? Because Ben definitely isn't.

  "No, Alex. But it's not your...fault." I choke on my own words, my throat suddenly tight with emotion as my own eyes fill with tears.

  Alex slowly shakes his head in my lap, his face moving in a wince. His breathing picks up more, and I'm sure it's now full on hyperventilating.

  I quickly wipe my tears away, mumbling a few comforting words to him like I remember my mother sometimes doing to me when I was upset.

  Though this is a whole different degree.

  His hands abruptly have a noticeable tremble in them even as they just lay on his chest, his jaw beginning to tremble also as what seems like a shiver runs up his spine.

  "Bridget." I abruptly say, softly tussling his hair as I look off in the distance.

  His failing attention snaps back up to me, his eyes repeatedly drifting in a half circle as he fights the urge to succumb to unconsciousness.

  I read the question in his eyes.

  "My name." I clarify. "It's Bridget O'Dare." I shrug, a laugh on the edge of my tongue despite how badly I want to break down and cry.

  "I started introducing myself as Dare because I thought Bridget sounded like a sissy." I tell him, a hint of relief filling my chest.

  There. I've told him. And it feels good. Surprisingly so.

  There's suddenly a ghost of a smile on his lips despite how defeated he looks, eyes distant.

  "It's...p-pretty." He manages to say between each rapid breaths, making me blush for no apparent reason.

  Hold it together there Dare.

  I suddenly catch something from the corner of my eye, my head turning to look back towards the way we were heading not too long ago.

  Relief spreads throughout me as I spot lights out in the distance, a spark of hope igniting inside.

  They're coming.

  "Alex...R-Rider." He chokes out.

  I smile down at him, opening my mouth to add something.

  My mouth snaps shut as his face suddenly contorts into one of pure pain, his back slightly arching off the ground as his breathing turns garbled.

He chokes, his breathing stuck on inhaling as he seems to momentarily forget how to breathe properly as some unknown pain wracks his body.

  "Alex! Breathe! Calm down." I shout, quickly looking back over towards the approaching vehicles.

His face gets a frightening blue tinge to it, eyes wide with fear.

I bite my lip, feeling completely helpless as-to what needs to be done.

I don't know anything medical wise!

  Time seems to skip and suddenly there's two vehicles parked next to the road a few yards from us. A police and a ambulance.

  Two people hop out from the back of the ambulance, one from the police car. The medical people take one look at Alex and I before they quickly reach back inside and pull out a stretcher along with something else.

  They stop behind me, one moving to Alex's other side as the other comes to stand beside me.

  "He needs help." I mutter, feeling oddly detached to the world as everything gets a sorta loopy feel to it.

  I'm suddenly moved away from Alex, the two medical people lowering his head back down to the ground before they move the stretcher next to him.

  My eyes stay locked on Alex's. Noticing every flinch, how uncomfortable he seems with them around despite the fact he currently isn't breathing properly. The way his eyes keep drifting closed before snapping back open.

  They place a oxygen mask over his mouth, his inhaling turning to a quick exhale as he rights his breathing. Chest slowing after a few painful seconds.

  They then each lift a end of him, quickly - yet expertly, placing him on the stretcher.

  His face moves in a wince as they lift him, and I vaguely register a short shout of pain leaving him.

  They quickly rush him to the back of the ambulance where someone else helps them slide him and the stretcher inside.

  Time seems to skip again, and I find I'm sitting in the back of the ambulance with a dry towel wrapped around my shoulders.

  Alex lays on that stretcher in the middle of the back space, those two medical people moving about him as his eyes continue to flicker between open and closed.

  He seems to be breathing back to normal now, and he lays there without his jacket. His white t-shirt more battered and torn than I'd thought.

  My eyes drift to his wrist on their own accord, spotting that same mark I'd seen earlier on it. Looking more horrendous now that it's out in the open.

  I can't hide the surprise on my face when I spot the same mark on his other wrist. Raw marks near them on each wrist where the rope rubbed the skin.

  How..?

  And that's when I begin to spot other small things on his bare skin.

  Scars of all different shapes and sizes mar his muscular arms, a few even poking out from underneath his shirt collar. The one on the side of his neck. His jawline.

  This couldn't be from the underground, could it?

  The medical people attach a IV to his right wrist, along with a few sticker things that have wires attached to them. One of them holds a towel over the spot on the side of his head while the other adjusts a few things.

  Alex's eyes suddenly find mine, heavy with exhaustion.

  And even if we didn't make it out of this unscathed. There's one things that's for sure.

  We made it.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
A/N

    Ahh! They is going home!...Well, Alex at least. 😜 Hopefully it wasn't too dull? Did any feeling get stirred?

   So, one more chapter left my friends! So exciting! 👏🏻👏🏻 Yet sad at the same time! 😭

Questions:

  1.) Is Razim alive still? Or was Ben just trying to get under his skin more?

2.) So do you prefer short, medium, or long chapters? (I'm curious lol. And this one is about 5,100 words.)

VOTE!! ⭐️⭐️ (And you'll be rewarded with a chapter!😉) Comment!

Next update: So I may have it written by Monday evening. But no promises. I still need at least 8 votes before I update.

  Ahhhh! One more chapter! Oh, and there's a few hidden things in this chapter that'll be revealed sometime in the next book. Deep things.

Onwards and upwards!
Maggy