"Oh," Emma says with a shiver. "Oh, it's so cold I can see my breath steamin' out in front of me. I think there might be little flakes of ice in it."

"Charlie," Lawrence groans, "did you really have to drag us out at silly o'clock in the morning? I was just getting used to having an actual bed with actual sheets and an actual extremely warm duvet on it."

Emma rolls her eyes. "Don't be such a moaner. What would have been better? Have a nice lie in, followed by a nice... bein' shot in the head while we slept?"

"I had to get you out of there," Charlie says. "There are... about a dozen people heading towards the house and at least three have got guns. They're less than a mile away now."

I don't say anything. I'm honestly just grateful that we got one more night in that manor house with food, a bed and a bath. We trusted Jackson enough to let him stay with us, mostly because he just babbles on and on about his hiking trip and how he doesn't know where to go now that power's been cut from basically everywhere. He's harmless.

And since he's American, he didn't seem too shocked that we had guns. One of the great things about we Americans is our intense selfishness in believing the world revolves around us, forgetting how one country's laws differ from another. Guns are common in America, and so often we forget that they aren't here. Jackson has, which is something we've been able to use to our advantage. He seems like a nice person, and we wouldn't shoot him if he started asking questions, but it would make things more difficult if he did start asking questions.

"Ya see?" Emma continues, snapping me out of my thoughts. "Charlie's always got our best interest at heart."

Lawrence sighs and rubs his eyes. "No, I-I know. I'm sorry. Just not a morning person."

A laugh escapes my lips, and I quickly speak when Lawrence gives me a raised brow. "Yesterday you said you weren't a night owl."

He shrugs. "I'm basically not a fan of lateness or earliness. Anyway, if we're in such a hurry, why is Paul lollygagging along behind us? His arm's not still bothering him, is it?"

Emma shakes her head. "No, those pain meds are helping him a lot. He's just faking it so he and Elizabeth can keep Jackson occupied while we're talkin' to Charlie."

He frowns. "Why are we letting him walk with us again? Why does he even want to walk with us?"

I shrug. "Safety in numbers, maybe?" I grin and look at Emma. "Maybe he wants to keep playing house with you."

She nearly gags. "No."

"What? He's not bad looking."

"Not my type."

I snort. "Right. Forgot you already had your eyes on someone."

She blushes bright red, realizing I'd overheard her and Charlie talking yesterday. She crosses her arms. "Well, we both know I'm not the only one who likes someone in our group."

I raise a brow in confusion, and she simply stares, smirks, then glances at Lawrence. Thankfully, he doesn't get what she's hinting at, and I am able to play it off without my voice wavering too much.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Sure you don't."

"So, Charlie, these people heading towards the manor house," I say, changing the subject and ignoring Emma's knowing smirk that she won this one, "are they Burn?"

"I'm not sure," She replies. "They're not wearing any sort of uniform. Could be part of the gang that took over the town."

I suck on the side of my cheek. Those townspeople didn't really seem keen on letting anybody out. We had to make up a whole sob story just to get out. And when Emma and I were out in the town, we didn't see any gang members who had guns.

"You can let the others catch up. We'll see what happens when those people get out the house."

I simply let out a gum in thought as Emma looks over her shoulder, probably giving the signal to Stanton that they can catch up with us now.

As we slow down our walk, I cast a glance over at Lawrence, who is tugging very worriedly at his sleeve. Is he that worried about heading over to that house? Or maybe it's something else. I know Lawrence can be silly at times, but he is smarter than most people think of him. I remember him telling me about that project that he was working on with his professor, the one who gave him his device. Half of that stuff I didn't even understand, and I got a bachelor's in biology and a master's in kinesiology.

I want to ask him if he's alright, if there's something on his mind, but I never get the chance since Jackson, Paul and Stanton catch up with us, with Jackson muttering about making sure he has all our names right.

Stanton looks like she's two seconds away from strangling the man.

"Okay, so Emma, Lawrence, Wing-commander Stanton, Paul, Walker. Now backwards. Walker, Paul, Wing-Commander Stanton, Lawrence, Emma. There. Got 'em."

I look at him, unimpressed. "There are only five of us."

"Six including me. You guys will include me, right? I mean, we're kind of a team now. I helped you get those meds, right? And you're doing okay because of them, right, Paul? Arm holding up okay?"

He smacks Paul's arm for emphasis, making Paul grunt in pain and surprise while Emma sends him a glare.

"Maybe better not to hit the arm?" He replies, and Jackson nods, oblivious.

"Gotcha, gotcha, no sweat." He pauses, glancing around. "So, early morning start, huh? Up at cock crow. Very enthusiastic. Why are we up at the cock crow anyway?"

"Some shady types are heading towards the house," Lawrence answers. "Thought it best not to be there when they arrived."

"Shady types?" He sucks in a breath. "Yeah, that does sound bad. So, you must have been up before cock crow if you managed to see shady types coming out way and got us up at cock crow."

Emma shrugs. "Oh, that had nothing to do with us. It was Ch-"

"Chance!" Stanton interrupts while Lawrence and I send the blonde a glare that causes her to shrink back. "It was pure chance. We just got lucky. I got up to use the toilet and spotted their torches through the window."

Jackson hums, not seeming to notice the tension around us all. "Well, that's great. Just getting lucky has saved my skin more times than I can tell you."

"That's not hard to believe."

God, this man must be stupid to not hear the slight disdain in Stanton's voice. I guess we can use that to our advantage.

"Keep moving, guys," Charlie instructs. "They just got to the house. Kicked down the door and went straight in."

Lawrence forces a grin, and I'm surprised at how bright his onyx eyes seem to shine. "Well, this is lovely, isn't it? A brisk morning stroll. Who's up for making it a little bit brisker?"

Without giving anyone a chance to reply, he grabs my hand and speeds up, nearly dragging me along. I struggle to match his pace, my eyes constantly flickering down to our fingers laced together.

Heat creeps up my neck, but I keep it down. I picture Emma's damn smirk from behind me, so I glance over my shoulder and force a smile.

"Come on, slow pokes!" I yell with a laugh that's mostly genuine. It causes Lawrence's smile to widen.

The fluttering feeling that settles in my chest worries me, so I focus my attention on anything else, anything but Lawrence.

He's not the person in your head. He just looks like him. You owe him the decent to not hold him to something he doesn't know he's a part of.

Really, he's not even a part of it. He just looks like someone in my world, my hallucinations. I still don't know how that works, or how it's the same with Stanton and Emma. I've never met them before this, but I've known their faces for years.

Trying to understand it would do nothing.

We keep walking at a quick pace, and I stop myself from looking over my shoulder every five minutes. The manor house is well out of eyesight. We've been walking for nearly an hour now, so we must be at least two or three miles away with this pace, which is making a thin sheen of sweat appear on my forehead despite the cold outside. At least it isn't snowing,

After nearly dying in that blizzard, I'd be okay with it never snowing again.

We walk in silence for a while, which surprises me since I didn't think Jackson could shut up for longer than ten minutes. In the mere, what twenty-something hours we've known him, he's babbled on about backpacking and how he liked adventures and other weird stuff to the point that even Lawrence got annoyed.

Speaking of Lawrence, he's currently chewing on his lip, brows furrowed. He glances over at me, looking as if he wants to say something, but when he opens his mouth, no sound comes out.

"Good news!" Charlie exclaims, making both of us flinch. "They're looting the place. I can see their heat signatures on the satellites images as they tear through the rooms and pass all the valuables out of the window. Anything they can't take, they're smashing."

Lawrence frowns. "And that's good news?"

"What's good news?" Jackson asks from behind us.

"I uh... uh... we used Stanton binoculars while you were havin' a pee. Road's clear behind us," Emma says quickly. "It doesn't look like those guys are interested in following us. They must have just wanted to rob the house. We can relax now."

A small, relieved smile paints Paul's face. "That's good. Do we know where we're heading today?"

"Harshem Park House," Stanton answers. "We're not that far away. My sources tell me we should be able to rest there."

Emma's frown confuses me. "Harshem Park?"

"Should be an excellent safe house," Charlie explains, although the blonde looks upset, almost. "I've set it up just like the last one."

Jackson eyes Stanton with curiosity. "What sources are those? I mean, the phones are out. Who are you talking to?"

There's a brief flash of panic on Stanton's face before she conceals it. "W-we're issued with briefing packs on the areas we're stationed in. I meant that I suspect that that house will be safe."

Jackson nods, ignore Emma as she murmurs something about having heard of that place before. "So, what made you all want to go south? Did you know each other ahead of time? Are you members of the same soccer team? Oh, sorry. Football."

Lawrence shakes his head. "We're completely strangers. Just met while trying to get out of Inverness. We're working together to get out of the EMP blast radius."

He glances at Lawrence's hand that's still clasping mine. "You must get attached pretty quickly then."

"What?" He notices where Jackson is staring and practically rips his hand away from mine. "Oh, God, Walker, I'm sorry. I didn't even realize-"

He doesn't get to finish his embarrassed apology, or realize how I'm giggling like an idiot, because Jackson cuts him off.

"So, did you do those earrings yourselves? Kind of a... blood brotherhood, Fellowship of the Ring kind of thing? And why hasn't Stanton got one? And why haven't you, Paul? I guess because of your arm, right? You didn't want to risk blood poisoning."

"Fashion trends," I reply. "Paul doesn't care about aesthetic and neither does Stanton. Simple."

Lawrence chuckles, but then leans close to whisper to me as Jackson starts prattling on with more questions that we aren't going to want to answer. "Hey, Walker, why don't you hang back here with me? I need to talk to you."

[]

"That bloke Jackson is a bit inquisitive, isn't he?" Lawrence hums.

"I thought you'd like him. He's enthusiastic, anyway," Charlie replies, but the dark-haired man simply rolls his eyes.

"Too bloomin' enthusiastic. Feels like there's something he's not telling us."

"I think he's just a harmless idiot."

"I thought I was your only harmless idiot."

"You'll always be my very special harmless idiot, Lawrence," She laughs. "I think Jackson will be fine, just as long as you don't mention anything about me."

He huffs. "Or show him the devices or say why we're going to Edinburgh." H smacks his forehead. "Oh, we should have thought of this earlier and come up with a better cover story than we're just a few random strangers walking to Edinburgh for no discernable reason."

I pat his arm sympathetically. "I think we're doing fine. He doesn't seem to think we're that suspicious. He seemed to at least believe us when we said we were all strangers and that the earrings were just fashion."

Lawrence rubs his arm, unconvinced. "He didn't look very convinced when he saw us holding hands though."

"The worst he could think about that is maybe you're dating," Charlie tells him. "And we'll ditch him the next opportunity that comes up."

"Yeah... Hey, Charlie, can you listen to what Jackson's asking about and let us know?"

"I can just patch you into Emma's audio."

"No, but I-I wanna talk to Walker for a second."

"Sure thing. Just a second."

Immediately Lawrence's face changes. The soft, worried look morphs into one of determination as he looks at me. He leans down to whisper into my ear that doesn't have the earring.

"Get your Charlie coms device out of your bag. I've got something to show you." Satisfaction dances in his eyes as I obey. He doesn't say anything when I send him a questioning look, simply starts talking about how pretty the view is with the marshes and the fog hanging over them.

When I have my device out of my bag, he takes if from me. His tongue pokes out from between his lips as he pushes a few buttons and the device beeps. "There. See? I've worked out how to turn Charlie's coms off. Now we can talk without her listening in if we want."

My brows knit together in confusion. "What could we possibly have to talk about that we wouldn't want her listening in on?"

"I just..." He sighs. "You trust me, don't you?"

I nod slowly, still confused. "What does that-"

"Well, I trust you too. But I... I don't know if I trust Charlie. Not completely. Not anymore."

I gape at him, watching as he tries to stutter out an explanation. He looks almost desperate for me to understand, and there's a twinge of fear in his dark eyes. Is he afraid I'll yell at him, tell on him? I don't even know what to say to that. Him just talking about distrusting her feels like a betrayal almost.

I open my mouth to speak, to ask him why he would say such a thing, why he would not trust Charlie after everything she's done to keep us safe, but I don't get the chance when I'm cut off by a horrible ringing.

It's a phone.

It's coming from my bag.

"Can I... can I just have a minute to process what you just said?" I ask, reaching into my bag as the ringing gets louder.

Lawrence nods, and I see his throat constrict as he tries to swallow. His eyes show his worry, but he almost looks relieved that I haven't ran to tell the others or yelled at him for saying such a thing.

He lets me trail behind him, looking over his shoulder for a moment as I fish out the thing making that awful noise from my backpack.

It's an old mobile phone. I've found quite a few while walking out, but I don't remember ever putting one in my bag. Regardless, I answer it, just so I can get it over with.

And I'm suddenly in a dark room, with good old Dave. He looks paler than before, sicker, and his dark hair has become dull.

"I didn't really understand why the Burn had picked me. I mean, I was a nobody, you know? I might have been working for the secret service, but I was still just a corporate drone." He rubs his eyes. "That was it though, the drones. Not the big, shoot ones that everyone knew about. The other ones. The spy drones. The ones that went everywhere and heard everything.

"There were so many, so tiny. The truth is the government couldn't keep track of them all. They kept gettin' drowned by every rain. One ever got seated by a bird. You could watch it go all the way through the digestive system. It was kind of cool."

I cock my head to the side, looking at Dave who sits in his little chair in the dark room. "What is the point to all this?"

He sighs, almost as if annoyed that I'm asking, but he doesn't look at me. I've noticed he barely does.

"When I started working for the Burn, I diverted a few dozen of those spy drones. Let them drop off the grid. You won't believe the things I heard. Politicians with their pants down..."

Suddenly I'm in a rather lavish looking hotel room, and there's a woman at the vanity pinning up her hair and another woman, one quite younger and more worried looking, laying on the bed, using the sheets to cover up her nudity.

"Don't be silly, darling," The older woman says, glancing at the younger through the vanity mirror. "You are my secretary. Paying for our trip to Paris with Parliament expenses if perfectly legal."

"Military mess-ups."

Then I'm in some kind of board room, with very angry-looking men with bags under their eyes. They are all in different types of military uniform.

"We can't have news of a mass blue-on-blue killings come out right now. Not with that select committee about to vote on that big funding increase. The Turks are our allies, for God's sake! We're going to have to blame it on the Curds."

And then 'm back in that dark room, the change from a room so bright to one with only a single resource of light making me lightheaded.

"And then there were lots of scientists," Dave says. "She had me pepper drones all over the best institutions, listening for anything sensitive, listening for anything that would give us more understanding of what made those important people tick. I don't know why she wanted that. I didn't ask."

He sighs, sounding disappointed in himself. "I was just happy to be useful."

Click.

And then I'm back in the present again, still walking because my feet were on autopilot while I was hallucinating.

It seems my mind is taking what's currently going on and making stories out of it. I mean, this isn't the first time one of my hallucinations mentioned the Burn. When Soleil was interviewing Chris, he mentioned it too. But this is the first that Dave mentioned it, and he's been a recurring character for nearly two weeks since this started.

A twinge of guilt tugs at my heart as I remember Soleil being mentioned. It's obvious my subconscious mind used her name because of my own jealousy since Lawrence likes her. I don't even know her, and here I am, making her a villain in my own mind since I can't accept reality. I want to smack myself for being so stupid, so petty.

"Walker?" Lawrence calls, just a few steps ahead of me. I shove the dead mobile into my pocket, giving him a noncommittal hum. "Are you... ready to talk?"

I let out a soft sigh, then nod, speeding up my steps to catch up to him. His shoulders slump in relief, a small smile appearing on his face. I can't help but send it back to him.

"Why don't you trust Charlie?"

"It's not that I don't trust her. I just don't think I trust her completely." He clicks his tongue, as if trying to find the words. "Charlie's kept us safe. She saved my life. She saved your life, all of us. But... doesn't her story seem a bit weird to you? I mean... we're carrying these things that have some vital evidence about the terrorists, right? But Charlie can somehow get though the EMP or whatever and somehow communicate to us, so why can't she get the information off the devices herself?"

"Maybe she doesn't have the clearance?" I guess, grimacing when mud clings to my shoe. "Ugh, it sure is muddy."

Lawrence hums. "Yeah, come this way with me. We'll have time to talk, and we'll meet up with the others after they take the long way around."

I nod, walking along with him. My eyes study his expression as he continues.

"What I'm saying is Charlie doesn't have to be a bad person, but we don't really know who she's working for. Maybe she's deceived herself, you know? I mean, sitting alone in Geneva, orders coming in over the telephone or-or whatever. What if her orders have been like, intercepted? We know there are some bad people out there, yeah? Ones with guns shooting random stuff and blowing people up. But do we really know if those are the people looking for us? And not the terrorists? I mean, maybe it's been terrorists causing harm all this time, and this-the Burn-are just the people trying to get these things back. Maybe we really are taking these into the hands of the enemy."

I frown. "Lawrence, the Burn took you, hurt you. You only got away because of the snowstorm-"

"But they never said they were the Burn. They didn't tell me who they were," He replies, raising his hand up to touch his cheek. The bruise that was there has mostly disappeared, but it's not been that long, only a few days. He must remember that, how it felt.

"I know it's scary, but we know Charlie is the one who's kept us safe, even if she hasn't told us anything. And-and Adebayo said that New Tomorrow was working with the Burn-"

"And how do we know he wasn't lying?" He runs his hand through his dark hair and sighs. "I don't know. I was just thinking about it, anyway. And I couldn't say any of it to Charlie."

"Hey, guys!" Emma shouts from a distance, and Lawrence simply waves a hand toward her and the others.

"We'll be with you in a little bit, Emma!" He replies before looking at me. "But I've got a plan. That's the thing. And you seem like the most trustworthy of the bunch. want to talk it through with you."

[]

"So, you remember those flyers we picked up, those leaflets?" He pulls one out of his pocket. There's some writing on it about how the two blokes 'we' found weren't the people 'we' were looking for. Lawrence chuckles. "Looks like someone found our bankers. A-Anyway, I've been thinking about these, rereading them. Can't stop thinking about it. I just... I feel like I have to know, you know?"

My eyes widen. "But what if it's-"

"And it wasn't-I couldn't go when Paul was ill. We have to stick together," He interrupts, not noticing my panicked expression. "That's what I've been saying to myself since Pro. Emmanuel put this thing into my hands. The prof wouldn't have given me something I should have had. I know he wouldn't. He's a good man. Always sticks to the rules.

"Did you know he was the one who argued for me to get my funding? Yeah. The research council didn't want to give it to me because-because I hadn't done well enough in my first degree. They were like, 'He won't be able to keep up.' But the prof knew how excited I was about the project.

"'Lawrence,' He said, 'the most important thing is to believe what you're doing, to be excited about it. You've got the basic skills. You'll learn the rest because you want to. As long as a student is basically competent-'" He cuts himself off with a laugh. "Yeah. He was complimentary like that. Basically competent. 'As long as a study has the basic skill set, I will take someone who cares deeply about the project over a passionless overachiever any day of the week.'"

"But-" I try again, but he interrupts me again.

"I feel like it's a trust that he gave me this thing, you know? He wanted me to get it where it should go."

"Hey!" Emma shouts.

"Wrong way!" Paul calls, but I ignore him. I can see the wheels turning in Lawrence's head, and I know he wants to go see if those flyers are correct, but they can't be, not with their promises to pay people to bring us there.

I can't let him talk himself into going. It's too dangerous.

"Lawrence," I say, cautiously, "I know it seems like Charlie is keeping stuff from us, and she probably is, and I don't like it. I know don't either, but what if this is a trap? What if the Burn are the bad guys? You could get hurt, killed!"

I grab his hand, and his eyes widen in surprise as he looks at me.

"I was terrified when Charlie said she couldn't raise you a few days ago. I don't want anything to happen to you."

"But I have to know," He replies. "The prof gave this to me because he knew I care about his project. And that's how I am with this too. I'm basically competent. I can just keep walking, and other than that... Well, I care about getting this to the right place, so I have to go and see. Maybe those flyers mean Charlie's been led astray herself, you know?"

"And what if it's not the right place?"

He shrugs. "Well, Charlie stated they can't kill me."

"But they could hurt you!"

"Hey!" Emma yells again, but again we ignore her. I can't let Lawrence do this.

I know Charlie's keeping stuff from us. It's easy to tell. She kept small stuff from us, like when Paul, Emma and Stanton had been caught by the bankers. It's not far-fetched to think she might be keeping big stuff from us too. But Lawrence is taking a huge risk. From what we know, Charlie wants to keep us alive. We have no clue if whoever created those flyers want that as well.

"Ugh, this mud is a bit thick, isn't it?" Lawrence cringes. "Let's just keep going, I guess. We'll get to the other side."

"I don't think you should do this alone," I tell him, hoping he can hear the desperation in my voice.

"I know," He says, suddenly looking nervous, the back of his neck flushing. "That's why I was telling you all this, because I-I wondered if you... well, that's to say, I-I was thinking that uh, maybe you and I-"

"Lawrence! Walker!" Stanton shouts, and we finally turn to her. She's on the original path, but she's close enough that we can see the alarm on her features, as well as everyone else's. "We've been trying to reach you! You've been straying into a sucking peat bog. Come back immediately!"

I try to start moving, but find my feet stuck, mud all the way up to my ankles.

"Uh oh," I mutter, looking at Lawrence, who looks just as frightened.

We're sinking.