Glasses clink together as chatter fills the little cafe inside the train station. I hum quietly as I look through my papers spread out across the small coffee table where I sit, pushing aside the flyer about a concert and how all the proceeds will go towards the Miami relief fund. I don't have time for such things, even when they go to charity. My focus is on these papers. It's everything I need to finally get into gear and start my first day on the job.

Evangeline Freeman, occupational therapist.

I smile to myself. I quite like the sound of that.

"Thank you, Minister," A reporter on the television says with that blank tone I've grown to dislike the more I've watched the news. I'd hoped reporters in the U.K. would be livelier than the ones on the U.S. stations back home, but I suppose not. My eyes follow the words that pop up on the screen as she speaks. "We're going to have to leave it there. And now, time for the news headlines..."

Her words blur off as something clatters on my table. I look down at a cup of tea, the liquid sloshing up and nearly splattering on my papers. Panicking, I hurriedly grab them and shuffle them into a neat pile, shooting an annoyed look at the brunette barista in front of me. I read the name tag on her uniform.

Shona.

I ignore the familiarity it brings to my head.

"Sorry," She says sweetly before glancing down at the cup. "Your tea. Fifteen minutes 'til the London train. You've plenty of time."

I open my mouth to tell her I didn't order any tea, but her gaze has traveled to the TV as another reporter pops up and begins speaking. I sigh, knowing I need something to drink to take my medicine anyway. I pull out my small orange bottle from my bag and take out a small, circular, white pill. Popping it into my mouth, I wash it down with a gulp of black tea which I hope wasn't drugged or spit in or something equally as nefarious.

The reporter continues talking as I shake the thoughts of paranoia away.

"Interpol has closed train stations in Madrid and Frankfurt in an attempt to detain several people linked to the Anarchist group, New Tomorrow. The group has issued several threats against technology infrastructures in Europe over the past six months and was responsible for the brief shutdown in Hang Sing a year ago. London Mayor Sadiq Khan has reassured the public that New Tomorrow's threats of simultaneous global technology attacks, including an attack on the London stock exchange, are simply not credible."

"What are they so angry about?" The server asks. "Those New Tomorrow folk?"

I shrug. "Whether or not their threats are credible, they're still threats. People are scared."

I'm scared.

I don't know much about New Tomorrow, but I do know it's not a good group. Whether the barista heard me or not is a mystery since she doesn't reply.

"And finally," The reporter continues, "the Scottish government released a report today on the progress of the population of wolves, released in Kind Crake Highland Wildlife Park two years ago. Fifteen original breeding pairs have grown to nearly sixty wolves now, and experts say the population has proved capable of sustaining itself through hunting. Conservation groups are thrilled. The native Scottish species is reestablishing itself. And now, the weather where you are."

The first reporter from before pops back up. "It's going to be a beautiful day in Inverness, but with a chance of showers later this evening."

I raise a brow when the server laughs. "Aye, chance of showers? Rain again is what they mean."

She walks off just as a voice over the speaker announces the train on platform four is the 7:25 AM train to London. I start to stand, gathering my papers and placing some of them in my bag. However, I stop midway in my seat when a woman sits in front of me at my table. I don't recognize her, even as she sends me a dazzling smile and her pretty eyes flash with acknowledgment towards me.

"Hello," She says, and I blink, wracking my brain for something, anything on who this woman is. Did I meet her at Uni while getting my Master's? Bachelor's, maybe? I know most of my memory is fuzzy up until a few years ago, but I'm only twenty-four. I should be able to remember something if I did know this woman.

"Hel-" I start, but she quickly cuts me off.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. You're not supposed to confirm or deny," She says lowly, sweeping her ginger hair over her shoulder. "I have a description of your clothing and bag. You're in the right place. It's okay. I've been briefed."

I blink at her. What?

"Can you try smiling, at least?" She asks, but I simply stare at her, wondering what on earth she's talking about. "Fine. I've got the device. Here. I'll put it on the table under your papers. You'll pick it up after a few moments and slip it into your pocket."

I only see a glimpse of cardboard wrapping before it's under my half stack of papers. My pulse races, worried thoughts flying through my brain.

"I-I think you've got the wrong-" I start, but she stares at me expectantly. She's waiting for me to pick up the package. I don't know why I do it, but I do, sliding the papers towards and slipping the small rectangular parcel into my coat pocket. It takes much effort to keep my hands from shaking as I put the rest of my papers into my bag.

A hint of approval appears in her eyes.

"Good. Find a private place to open it before you arrive. I'm sure you've been briefed the same as I have."

I'm stone still, although my mind is screaming. No! No, I haven't been briefed on anything! I don't know who you are! What's going on?!

"I'm to see you onto that train to Edinburgh, then you're on your own. We know something's going to happen today. We just don't know what. We're just hoping we can get you out of here in time. Come on, before they spot you. Walk with me."

I shakily stand, trying to calm my racing heart. I don't know who they are or what she means by something happening today. I'm not even supposed to be heading to Edinburgh. My job is waiting for me in London. I can't be late on my first day!

But what if this woman is with New Tomorrow? What if she kills me if she finds out I'm not who she was supposed to meet?

No, that can't be right. New Tomorrow is anti-tech. She gave me a technological device. No matter. Whoever she is, I can't let her know I'm not who she thinks I am. I could be killed, or tortured, or worse!

Calm down. Pleasant thoughts. Panicking will only make it worse.

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to think and clear my head. I can't act precipitously. That would only make things worse. I don't see any weapons on this woman, but something's obviously up. I can't take the chance.

This woman said she was supposed to see me to a train. I can get on, take it, then hop another train to London and trash whatever it is she's given to me, or take it to the police or something. It's okay. It's going to be okay.

I hope my shoulders aren't too stiff, and my fingers twitch as I resist the urge to fiddle with the ends of my ombre-dyed hair—dark hair that slowly becomes a dirty blonde. I try to ground myself—smell the sugary perfume I put on my wrists this morning, the soft fabric of my skirt brushing against my legs, the aftertaste of tea and medication on my tongue.

It's not enough.

A few minutes go by as we walk, the woman simply telling me her name is Fiona before coming to a stop at a platform where a train pulls in.

"Right. Good. Here's your train. Well... good luck." Her words are almost as stiff as I am. "I'm sure you don't need me to tell you how important this is-"

Zap!

Buzzing electricity reaches my ears a second before I'm engulfed in darkness. Emergency lights zap on, leaving the room mostly in shadow as the muted yellow lights barely push back the gloom. A stark silence falls onto the platform as everyone looks around in shock.

"Oh, damn. That's a buggar."

"What's going on?" I whisper, brown eyes wide. She doesn't answer.

A little girl tugs on her mother's skirt. "Mummy, why have the lights gone out? It's dark."

"It's okay, darling. They'll be back on in a moment."

"They won't," Fiona whispers. "This means the Burn is ahead of our anticipated schedule."

I frown. "The... Burn?"

"Things are going to get difficult for you." She starts walking, and I follow, unsure what else to do. "Don't run. If they're here, that'll just draw attention. I should be able to get you out of the city, at least."

The speakers crackle. "The management at Inverness Station apologizes for any inconveniences to you caused by this temporary power failure in the areas of the station. We are bringing backup generators online now and should have you on your way within fifteen minutes. Thank you for your patience, and we apologize for the disruption to your journey this morning."

Fiona's voice comes out in a hiss. "There. Man reading a paper, four o'clock. Don't look. He's followed us up the platform and is following us back down. He's Burn. Woman at nine o'clock taking a long time over her croissant. Could be Burn. It's only going to get worse from here. Hurry."

She quickens her step to a brisk walk, and I resist the urge to look over my shoulder. The thing in my pocket feels like a ten-pound weight now. I want nothing more than to get out of here, get to my job, work my eight hours and clock out. Then I can go home to an empty apartment where I can pretend this isn't happening, or that it was just another fantasy that I'll need to speak to my therapist about next week.

"What do we do now?" Someone asks a few minutes later.

"Attention, all passengers. For safety reasons, we've been informed we will have to evacuate the station."

Groans erupt from everyone nearby.

"Power may be restored by the end of the day. Please exit the station in an orderly fashion. Thank you for your cooperation."

As we pass by people, I can hear them complaining. It's quickly overshadowed by the policeman giving orders on where to go. My breathing falters. I could run to him, tell him what this woman gave me, get him to get me away from her, away from all of this.

"Oh damn. Didn't think they'd be here so quickly." She huffs through her nose. "Not as bad as Burn, but we can't let them clock you. I heard about the trouble you had in Shang Hi five years ago. Don't want a repeat of that. Come with me. Side exit."

Shang Hi? I've never been to Shang Hi! Five years ago, I was...

I was...

Damn my horrible memory. Damn that accident!

I follow Fiona, not even thinking about how this will look, how I should be going towards the police and not away. Until he speaks.

"Madams? Madams! There's no exit in the tunnel in that direction."

"Don't look back. Just ignore him and keep walking."

"But-" I start.

"If you get caught, everything will be lost. The Burn will kill you before the police can even try to get us out this way."

I swallow thickly, especially as the policeman starts yelling again, telling us that he'll be forced to detain us if we don't stop.

"Just keep walking."

"All passengers must leave the station via the main exit!" He yells. "If you do not stop, I'll be forced to-"

Suddenly I'm thrown into the wall by an unseen force. The sound of an explosion and terrified screams reach my ears as I hit the floor.

[]

Metal screeches, debris all around, the emergency lights flicker, glass shatters.

People are crying, screaming, groaning.

Someone grabs my arm.

"Hey. Hey!" Fiona's eyes are wide as she looks at me. I can't focus. "Are you okay?"

"I..." What's going on?

"Come on, stand up." She pulls me to my feet, looking pained as she does so. She's putting pressure on one leg over the other.

"You're hurt."

She shakes her head. "Something fell on me when... I'll be fine. We've got to keep moving."

We walk, and I hear a baby crying, more people groaning, and glass shattering. Fiona ignores it all as she continues, her voice strained as she speaks.

"The Burn is closing in from the south and the west, and I don't-I don't know what to do now. I never thought they'd do something like this. But we've got to get out of the station. We've got to open the package. Charlie will know what to do."

I don't get to ask who Charlie is when someone cries out. A woman. I tense, ready to head towards the screaming words, "Help! Help me! My arm is trapped! Help!" when Fiona tightens her grip on my arm.

"Ambulances are on their way. We have to leave. Believe me when I tell you that the best thing you can do to help anyone is get out of this station."

I scowl at her. My job is to help people, or it would have been my job had this not happened. This is precisely what I went to school for! What I trained for!

Well, not exactly. I'm only an occupational therapist, not a doctor. But I still can't just leave people who need help!

She doesn't back down, glaring right back at me before turning around and walking, dragging me with her towards an exit. When we reach the surface and step into the sunlight, I see everything is just as chaotic. People are crying, all the buildings have gone dark, and cars have stopped in the middle of the street.

What the hell?

"My mobile's not working," A woman says in shock from the open door of a coffee shop, holding her phone out as if it's an alien object. "It just stopped, like the radio, and the coffee machine. Everything just stopped after the explosion. Is anyone's mobile working?"

"No, and suddenly my laptop died. I think something's gone wrong with the electricity," A man says, and I gasp at his voice, his face.

Oh, no, no, no, no. This can't be happening.

First that server's name, now this man. How is this possible?

I've seen him before, in my hallucinations, my dreams. He can't be real. He was my radio operator. He was-

"It's not bloody possible!" Another man shouts, thankfully one I don't recognize. "Electricity doesn't just go off."

Fiona keeps her grip on my arm and continues to drag me onward. "They did it. The bastards really did it. They set off an EMP."

The blood drains from my face, and I hear more screaming from scared and confused people. All this just to stop a train? Just to get whatever it is I'm supposed to take to Edinburgh?

She leads me down a side street, constantly looking around. "You can't open the package in front of people. You might have the only working mobile phone in Inverness in your pocket."

My breath catches in my throat. "That's what it is?"

"You there!" Someone shouts. There's a figure at the end of the side street, his face hidden. I recognize the thing in his hand well. Not so common in the U.K. but very common in America. "We know who you are. Stop, or we'll shoot!"

I don't even think. I turn and run, and Fiona is right beside me, but I notice she's limping as she does so. Two gunshots fire off, the sound blaring and painful. I send Fiona a desperate look, begging her to tell me where to-

Ring. Ring.

I stiffen at the sound. "What's that?"

"What's what?" She huffs as we turn the corner, still running.

Ring. Ring.

"The ringing."

"What ringing?"

I head down an alleyway, ignoring Fiona's shouts of protest as I follow the sound to an old cellphone. The screen is lit. But she just said...

I answer it.

"It was ninth of July when they'd first contacted me," A man says. "Sorry. I mean, yeah. Ninth of July, 2022, about three years ago. Back then, I was at Cambridge, doing Computer Science. But I come from London. All in all, Muswell Hill, where teenage dreams come to die. My brother was in the northern line that day, totally fine, of course, but... it makes you think, makes you feel part of it.

"It's almost exciting, except you can't admit that. You have to say it's dreadful, and it was dreadful. So yeah, they definitely picked the right time to ask if I wanted to serve my country. It makes it sound so glamorous, doesn't it? 'Dave Crispen, super spy.' It wasn't very James Bond. It was more Tinker-Tailer-Soldier-Spy. Gray and kind of ordinary. The guy they sent had this huge, hairy mole on the side of his nose, and beside it, there was this big, puffy white pimple just begging to be burst, only he hadn't. And the whole time he was trying to recruit me, goin'-"

I watch as the alleyway turns into a room. Sitting in the chair is the exact same man that was described, and in another chair is a young man with dark hair and even darker circles under his eyes.

"Mr. Crispen," The recruiter says, "it's very important that the content of this conversation remains confidential."

The young man, Dave, props his chin on his fist as he speaks. "I kept tunin' out, wondering if he left the pimple there because it distracted attention from the mole, which probably isn't the thing James Bond would be thinkin'. And, of course, they didn't want me because of my deadly marksmanship or smooth way with the ladies. They wanted me because I had straight A's in Comp-Sci and had a particular affinity for encryption. Still, when he asked me-"

"Mr. Crispen, do you want to serve your country?" The recruiter asks him.

"I said yes. I thought I'd be doing good." He looks at me, and I flinch back. "I really did believe that."

Click.

I'm back in the alleyway, and I'm jerked forward as Fiona glares at me, her eyes burning with fury.

"What is wrong with you?!" She barks. "Are you trying to get caught?!" She smacks the phone out of my hand. "None of these phones work. I told you it was an EMP. Nothing besides the device I gave you will work. Are we clear?"

"But... oh." I didn't think it would happen so quickly. I know the meds don't work as well when I'm stressed, but I thought...

It felt so real.

They always do.

"Come on." She angrily drags me out of the alleyway, still looking over her shoulder for those people following us. I don't understand why they'd want a mobile phone that works during an EMP when they are the ones to set it off, but I don't ask why. Whoever was supposed to get this thing probably knew, and I'm already pushing my boundaries with following that stupid ringing.

But maybe that person I'm thought to be has pushed boundaries too. Fiona mentioned something awful happening before. Perhaps my behavior fits. Still, best not to test the water at a moment like this.

"I understand it's been a while since you've had a field mission, but honestly, this is how you get yourself killed. You were chosen because you're effective, but you can't just-" She stumbles, and I instinctively reach out and grab her, eyes wide with concern as tears gloss her eyes.

"What's wrong?" I ask, and she grits her words out painfully.

"This stupid, stupid leg. I can't keep up."

"S-sure you can. Here. Let me just-" I wrap my arm around her waist. "Lean against me and tell me where to go. I won't run off again. Just tell me where to go."

We keep walking through the streets. Screams still echo across buildings and through stores. That's not what scares me. What scares me are the shouts of familiar, dangerous voices that are followed by gunshots.

"Here. This way! They're here!"

My grip on Fiona tightens. "Come on. We gotta hurry. I know it hurts, but I-I'll look at it once we get away. I'm not a doctor, but I can-"

"No, don't think about me," She interrupts, pushing herself off me. She reaches into my pocket and pulls out the package. "Open it."

I do, and there's a small black box in there. It looks a bit like a cellphone, but the screen only takes up a part of the box. There are buttons underneath the screen like there were for older versions of phones from many years ago. Although these buttons don't make up a keyboard. How strange.

I think there's something else in the package—a clip-on earring.

"That's your device for contacting Charlie, your operator. Put your thumb here." She has me put my thumb on a little screen with cross grids on it. It's just big enough for my thumb and located on the bottom corner of the device. She takes the little earring and clips it to my earlobe.

"Link initiating. Please wait."

I flinch at the voice that comes from the earring, and Fiona smiles knowingly. I don't think she heard it, but she knows what's happening. Her smile quickly fades into a wince as she continues hobbling.

"It's much more than just a little device; you'll have read it in the files." She blinks when I don't say anything. "You have read the files?"

"I-I..." My brain screams for me to lie, to say something, anything, but I can't force out the words, even as Fiona's face flickers with realization and horror.

"There was someone else in the station after the explosion. I saw her, wearing very similar clothes to you, carrying a similar bag. Who are you?"

A bullet flies by my head, and I squeak, looking at Fiona desperately. "I-I'm sorry! I didn't know what I was supposed to say! I didn't know who you were! I thought if I told you, you might hurt me. I still think you will. I'm just an occupational therapist."

She shakes her head, blinking away whatever anger or distress is within her. "It doesn't matter. The device is bio-keyed to you now. You've got to get it to Edinburgh, do you understand?"

I choke on a reply, and she slaps my arm, hard enough to make me wince. "Listen! Do you understand?!"

I nod frantically.

"Good. I don't care who you are. It's no exaggeration to say the survival of the human race depends on that box getting to Edinburgh. Plus, you'll be given a handsome financial reward. When Charlie can contact you, she'll tell you where to go." A bitter laugh leaves her lips, something scary flashing in her eyes. "And whoever you are, the Burn will kill you now if you let them catch you."

More gunshots are fired, and Fiona pulls a pistol from her bag. My eyes widen.

She cocks the gun, looking down at me. "I've got plenty of ammo. I'll hold them off as long as I can. Move. Just keep moving. Get out of the city. Go."

I shake my head. "I can't just leave you-"

She bares her teeth at me. "Go!"

I hesitate, just for a moment. I don't know her, but she pushed me forward, let me live even when she found out I wasn't who she thought I was. I don't want to leave her when she's injured! But it's clear she will not let me stay with her.

With tears filling my eyes, I turn, and I run.

[]

The gunshots are more distant now, but I can still hear them as I weave through the streets.

"How do you like that, you bastards?!" Fiona's distant voice yells. "Have a taste of your own medicine!"

My earpiece beeps.

"Okay. Okay, this should be working now and... can you hear me at the back, mother? Can you? Hehe. Just my little joke."

I nearly trip and fall onto my face at her voice. More tears spring to my eyes.

No. Not again. How does this happen thrice in one day?

Archie...

I shake my head. No, not Archie. Archie isn't real. She's just someone my mind made up, just like this other version of me.

But why do their voices sound exactly the same?

"I'm Charlie Fraser, based out of Geneva. I'll be working with you on this assignment, and I'll be your primary operator for the duration of the engagement. I think you've been expecting me, and I-"

She's cut off by distant gunshots.

"Oh. Oh, that's not good. Hang on a sec. Let me pull up some satellite maps, and we can get you and Fiona out of there."

No sooner do the words leave her mouth, there are more gunshots. I hear Fiona scream.

Silence follows, and bile burns up my throat. It takes everything in me not to stop where I am and retch all over the sidewalk.

"Oh. Fiona's gone." Charlie lets out a shuddering breath. "Right. This is not a drill. Right. Okay. I have you on satellite. I need you to listen to me and do exactly as I say. In 300 meters, on your right, you'll see Pitochry Salmon. The door's open. Go in. Right through the shop and out the back. Not to be, you know, melodramatic, but do exactly as I say if you want to survive."

And I thought today couldn't get any worse. I do as she says, treading through the dark and out the back exit. It gets quieter the farther I go, which only worsens the churning in my gut. I listen to Charlie as she tells me to cross the courtyard, then head into a long barn-looking building. It's just as dark in there, just as quiet.

There's screaming inside my head, my own screaming that I can't seem to force out of my throat. The calm makes it worse, as if it's leading up to another explosion or more people with guns. Tears sting my eyes, and I choke back a sob.

I want to go home.

A sharp yelp rings out as I bump into something, and there's a clatter as something falls to the floor.

"Yeah, sorry about that," Charlie says as I keep moving. "There should be a small door on the right that will take you down a flight of stairs and... yes, good. You are on the Canal Towpath now and have a view of the street. We've lost them for now. Keep going while I get the systems in your box to scan your biodata and link you to my codename basis."

I gulp, wondering if I should tell her I'm not who was supposed to be the one to pick this up.

"Hm. Looks like we have compiled a file on you. Not quite the one I was expecting. Haven't you been naughty?" She chuckles while I blink in confusion. My lips remain tightly sealed. "But you're on the side of the angels now, at least. So we can be friends. Codename: Non-listed. Oh. Well, I can't go on calling you by your actual name, so I'll just quickly generate one for you by pressing my magic button here and..."

She erupts in laughter. "It's-it's given you the name Walker."

I blink. "Like Walker: Texas Ranger?" I giggle despite myself. "I loved that show as a kid."

"Uh, sure. Walker it is. We're going to get through this, Walker. I haven't lost an agent yet. We're going to get through this, you and me."

A/N: Hey guys! Sorry I'm behind schedule I have you. Let's just say I've been going through some mental health stuff and forgot Wattpad existed. Please forgive me and enjoy! This chapter is dedicated jettmanas

Thank you and have a blessed day.

P.S. The second chapter is also up because I was supposed to start posting two weeks ago.