My head is cloudy, everything muffled and muted as if a veil has been placed over my mind.

I've stopped crying, I think, although I'm sure there are still stains on my pale cheeks from the tears. I have no more tears I can shed, left feeling like a empty shell. Every action I've chosen repeats in my head, wondering where I went so wrong, how I could be so stupid?

I can't even feel pity for myself, for the situation. I feel nothing, trapped in the white walls of my own mind as I shuffle along in the real world.

Lawrence, on the other hand, is happy as ever. It's as if we've switched places from when he shot Stanton, with me being void and him having the wide range of emotions as he talks through some type of transmitter.

"I love you too, baby. I can't wait to see you," He says with a laugh, and through the haze of numbness, I feel a stab of pain inside my chest. "No, no, I think Walker might be alright. I mean, genuinely alright. She's just going through a bit of shock. You've heard how she is. Very emotional, gets overwhelmed easily, but she's good. She's... she's good."

He turns to me, a half-smile and a teasingly raised brow. "You're alright, right, Walker? Being sensible?"

I blink multiple times to dispel the fog in my mind. His smile widens when I manage a nod.

"Good girl. We can let you go when we get what we need from that device. You can go back to your ordinary life. It's all gonna be completely fine."

How badly I want to believe him. He says it so casually, his facing holding that same soft look that, before, would have made me flush and hope my eyes don't give away how highly I thought of him. But now... now all I can do is wonder how deep his deceit runs. All I can think of is how that sweet look is nothing but falsehoods and lies.

He doesn't wait for me to give him an answer, instead going back to talking to Soleil... Marianne.

"Yeah, okay, baby. I'll see you soon. Can't wait." He clicks something on his pocket watch, and I hear a beep. My eyes widen, and my soft gasp in realization is just enough to get his attention. He smirks knowingly. "Oh, yeah, this? My old pocket watch that I kept with me every day and wound religiously? Yeah. Little transmitter in the back. See? Marianne made it. She's super clever."

He points ahead. "You see that Uni campus in the distance? We'll get in there, we'll get in the lab, and we'll get what we need. Oh, I mean, don't worry. I can't kill you. If I kill you, the device will die. Bio-lock, you see? Not that I would ever kill you, Walker."

"You killed Stanton," I say, my voice raspy and strained.

He grimaces but still speaks. "But you're different. Not just that you're a device holder, but you..." He shakes his head. "I don't know. You're special, somehow. Maybe it was because of your little crush on me, or that innocent act you've got. I assume it's an act since you really seem like you could be a spy-"

"I'm not." My voice shakes. "I was never a spy. I'm an occupational therapist. I was-I was confused for someone else and that's how I ended up getting it. I didn't even want this box."

He grins. "Even better. You don't want it; I do. So, we'll go to the lab and get what we need, and you can be on your merry way, back to your job of teaching people how to–I don't know, hold pens again after having a stroke or whatever it is you OTs do. But yeah, I won't kill you. You're alright." He sucks in a breath and rubs the back of his neck. "I mean, I can't say I'm happy about all the people we've had to kill already, but you see, Marianne's got a vision. She's such an amazing artist. She's been telling me about it, so...

"Oh, yeah, just in case you were wondering, it was me who was making the transmission that Adebayo was receiving. Yeah. Sorry."

I'd suspected as much, but him actually saying makes me feel sick to my stomach. I was so sure–so stupidly sure–that it wasn't him. And yet he was the traitor this whole time, and I was too blind to see it.

A part of me wonders if it was because of my crush, or because he had me fooled by his sweetness and babbling and simply his Lawrences-ness and I was too trusting to see through the farce.

And a terrified part of me thinks it might because of the versions of him I've known in my dreams, my hallucinations, the versions of him that my mind had created far before I'd even met Lawrence. I told myself I wouldn't believe the real people to be the versions in my head, but what if I did, even without meaning to?

Nausea hits me like a truck, and I find myself swaying dangerously, nearly toppling over as I find a discarded piece of paper on the ground. I do as I always do and pick it up, reading the contents to try to avoid thinking about myself and what I might have disgustingly done in choosing who to trust.

"M-

Had a call from Ivan. He's driving down this morning. Says to call Prof F when she's awake. Sounded important. Something about the project. Get her in ASAP.
Also, he wanted me to ask if you knew anything about "Bardle's back door"? Apparently not a euphemism? Do you know if she put a back door in? Ivan reckoned she was planning to.
Lunch today? They've got korma on at the canteen!

-Paula"

I drop the letter, not caring about the contents. Paula was the name of another version of Stanton that resided in my head. And I don't want to think about that, any of that!

My therapist was right. I should have pushed all it away. I should have bolted the second I heard Charlie's voice and it reminded me of Archie. I should have never let it get this far because I let it influence me without even knowing it.

My eyes sting again, numbness turning to anger as I resist the urge to slam my fist into my head like an enraged toddler.

"Thing is, these devices–Charlie hasn't been telling you the full story," Lawrence states suddenly, and my gaze snaps towards him, eyes wide as he hides his pistol as we enter Edinburgh. Of course, he'd have to hide it. But I'm sure he has more than enough Burn members walking around if I were to try to escape.

"She... hasn't?" I ask, and he scoffs.

"Of course she hasn't! Did that even make sense? 'They've got evidence on them.' What? No." He shakes his head. "I wish I'd been able to get you away to Aberfeldy. I think you would have come, wouldn't you? And then we could have avoided all this. You could have been back home already. Just that Stanton and Charlie pushing you on and on."

There are people around, walking, chattering, and my eyes dart from one to another in paranoia. How many of them are watching me, making sure Lawrence gets me to this lab? How many are listening in over that transmitter he has?

Lawrence seems to be expecting me to respond, so I let out a shaky breath. "I... I would have gone with you, Lawrence. I think you could have convinced me to follow you anywhere."

A lie. I was planning on doing everything I could to keep Lawrence from leaving out of fear he'd get hurt or captured again.

Again? No, he was never captured at all. He must have faked the bruise, had someone hit him to not raise suspicion.

His dark eyes flash with a certain sense of pride at thinking I was so into him I would have done anything he asked of me. But whatever smug comment he seems to have on his tongue, he doesn't let it slip, instead going back to talking about the devices.

"They're so much more than what Charlie's told you. Even I don't understand half the stuff they can do. Part of what I do know–they were developed in a project that the professor was working on." His face darkens. "He wasn't some nice, cuddly, old guy, you know, working on advanced voice recognition. It was military tech. These boxes are part of system that can remotely activate and use weapons in military systems, turn the enemy's arms against them, blow up fighter jets in their hangers. And that's not even the half of it."

My eyes widen, and I bite back my accusation of "Liar." I can't trust him anymore. I know that. But why would he make this up?

And if this were true... does any other governments know about this? What's been created?

I think of America, my home. We spend more on our military than anything else. If this tech could somehow manage to hack it...

Dad works for the FBI. If I can contact him some way, tell him about this... He'd know what to do.

It's an insane thought. There is no way for me to contact him even if I wanted to, and if I did, who's to say he'd even believe me? My dad loves me dearly, but he isn't ignorant to my illness due to that car accident.

"God, it's a relief to have that moaning Charlie out of my ear," Lawrence sighs, interrupting my thoughts. "Bet you're glad she's gone too. She never told you any of that, did she? This isn't what you signed up for? I mean, if you were telling the truth, you weren't even meant to be a part of any of this!

"Marianne's not evil. I mean, I know it seems like it. I know you're thinking about the planes falling out of the sky, but you must know sometimes that can be for the greater good. Sometimes..."

He keeps talking, but his voice fades as a louder voice echoes in my head.

"Calibrating. Please wait. Calibrating."

The voice sounds robotic, automated, but I recognize it.

Charlie?

"Walker? Walker?" Charlie calls a second later, sounding normal, human. "Can you hear me? Put your hand behind your back if you can hear me."

Shakily, I do so, trying to keep the shock from my face as her voice echoes in my head.

"She's actually a really good person," Lawrence continues. "I mean, she knows so much stuff about..."

"It was only experimental tech, but it seems to have worked. I'm inside your head, Walker. Or, well, bouncing an audio signal across your jawbone using the harmonic frequency generator you injected into yourself...

"We're back."

•

"Doesn't look like the EMP's done much harm down here," Lawrence muses, although his content smile is quickly replaced with a grimace when he sees the emergency relief signs everywhere and police cordons. "Well, I mean, it could've been worse. Would've been if Charlie had gotten her hands on the device you're carrying."

I want to ask him why, what Charlie would have done. Or rather, what Marianne or Soleil or whoever told him Charlie would have done. I know she can hear us now, but I want to know what he knows. He has no reason to tell me anything since he's got me captured, so I figure what he is telling me is the truth, or at the very least what he believes to be the truth.

"What he hasn't told you is what he and Marianne plan to do with them if they get them," Charlie says, and her cryptic words send hot anger shooting up my spine. It sounds like a classic, 'my plans aren't as bad as their plans,' even though I haven't been told what either of the plans are! "But he's right. They are military tech. That doesn't faze you, does it, Walker?"

Even if I could reply, I wouldn't. It seems she still doesn't know I'm not the spy she believes me to be.

"When we knew the Burn were planning to turn the lights out across Scotland, we had to get these away," She explains. "If they'd been able to investigate them, and especially if they got hold of all of them, we'd have been in trouble. I mean, the whole world would have been in trouble.

"With the connectivity of those devices, the code, they'd be able-well, they'd be able to hold the whole of NATO to ransom."

My lips press into a thin line. That doesn't tell me anything new. Neither of them are giving me any clear answers about this and I'm sick of it!

And as I am every time I feel any kind of strong emotion, my eyes sting with tears, which only serves to make me angrier. Why can't I go two seconds without fucking crying?!

"I love Edinburgh," Lawrence sighs. "Don't you, Walker?"

His smile drops when he looks at me. "What's wrong? You're crying again."

"Am I?" I ask, my voice wavering as I wipe my eyes. "S-Sorry. It's just-it's a lot. I'm... scared." It's not a lie. I'm terrified, honestly, growing more and more so with each new bit of information that's leaked. "You promise you're not going to kill me?"

"I promise," He says, smiling in a way that would be assuring if I didn't know he was an expert actor and liar. "You're special. Not like, in some weird 'Chosen One' way, but me and you-I think we were bound to be friends. We still can be. Once you understand what's going on, you'll understand why we did what we did."

"We've got to get you away from him," Charlie says, and I simply nod, forcing my shoulders to relax so he thinks I trust him. "I'm scanning now."

"Although, I actually think we might not just let you off after we've got what we need from your device." His brows furrow in thought, and my heart leaps in my throat. "I mean, you've seen my face. You know about Marianne, and you know about the professor. You've worked it out, right? I mean, you're clever."

I blink, trying to realize what he means, and then it hits me. "It was you."

He huffs and nods. "It was me. He didn't want to give me the box, and well, Marianne really wanted to know what Charlie was planning, so she could stay one step ahead. So yeah, I had to kill him." His face pinches, and for a second I swear I see regret cross his features. "That's kind of... yeah, it's kind of sad, really. He was alright, the prof."

"I have a plan," Charlie says. "Bide your time. Walk with him. I'll tell you when."

I have no other choice but to do as told. My world is spinning, my stomach twisting as I resist the urge to vomit right there in the street. Lawrence was a murderer before I even met him, before the EMP. He murdered someone and then met me and Jo only a few hours later, smiling and talking and making jokes like everything was perfectly well.

And I fell for it. I fell for him. How could I have been so stupid?

"If you're not going to kill me, and you're not going to let me go, then what... what are you going to do me?" I ask, and black ink on crumpled paper flashes across my mind.

"...just use them for testing."

I lurch forward, nearly falling to my knees in panic as screams echo into my ears. My screams. Painful, horrified screams that I've only heard in my dreams when the versions of myself go through pain I could never even imagine.

Lawrence grabs my arms, face twisted in confusion as he sees how badly I'm trembling.

The thought of being used, tested on like some lab rat makes me want to bolt right there. I know I can't, not without a proper plan, but everything in me is screaming to just run, get away. Get as far away as possible.

"Just what are you thinking we're going to do to you?" He asks, but I don't give him an answer, only forcing myself to stand up straight and follow him as he keeps walking. "We don't plan on torturing you or anything. I don't even like to see you cry. Can't imagine how bad I'd feel hearing you screaming in pain."

I think his words were meant to be soothing, but they aren't. If anything, it just hurts me more. Because if he's telling the truth and he doesn't like to see me cry, then that means he cares about me.

Just not enough to go against Marianne.

He shrugs. "I don't know. Marianne will know, but I'm thinking it's probably not a good idea to let you go for a while. I mean, you could travel with us. You seem like a useful person. Smart, good with guns, fast."

We keep walking, with him leading me into the train station, The windows are all blown out of the footbridge. I'm guessing it was from one of the minor explosions of the EMP, and the station just hasn't replaced them.

"So, you plan to keep me as a pet?" I ask, and I can't keep the slight venom from my voice as I add, "I'm not a pet, Lawrence."

"Never said you were. Although we would, metaphorically, of course, have to keep you on a tight leash if we do plan to keep you around, and we do. Marianne will listen to me when I tell her how amazing you are."

"It's rather fortunate those windows are blown out," Charlie says. "That will be useful for us."

I look at the windows, and Lawrence takes that as me wondering why we're taking this route.

"We're taking a bit of the long way around to put off any pursues," He explains. "I mean, you never know. Not that it's likely. Stanton's dead, Jo won't be able to find us without her tracking device, and I doubt Paul and Emma would risk their lives to try to save you."

That last bit hurts a lot more than it should.

"Walker, listen very carefully," Charlie says, her voice becoming extremely serious. "First of all, Lawrence can't afford to kill you. He needs you alive to be able to use the device. Remember that. So, I need you to do exactly as I tell you.

"When I say go, run as hard as you can towards the last window on the left of the footbridge and jump out. There'll be a train. It'll be moving. You'll get away. Wait for it."

My heart stops in my chest. She can't be serious.

Oh, but I already know she is serious. She wouldn't have told me her plan otherwise. And I must do it if I want to have any hope of getting away. I don't know if I can completely trust Charlie, but I do know I can't trust Lawrence. As much as I wanted to, he killed Stanton, he killed the professor, and he knew about the EMP that killed countless innocent people.

I weigh my options, and I choose Charlie. For now.

"You'll probably really like Marianne when you meet her-" Lawrence starts.

"Now. Run!" She commands.

I sprint off, darting down towards the end of the footbridge as Lawrence shouts after me. I wait to hear the gunshots, feel the pain of a bullet piercing skin, but it never comes.

"That's not fair, Walker!" He shouts in mild annoyance, but then he screams in shock when I jump out of the window, gravity clamping down on me and pulling me onto the moving train with frightening speed.

Pain ricochets from different areas of my body as I slam into the top of the train, my fingers scrabbling for purchase as the wind whips around me. I can't keep my eyes open any more than a squint as the harsh winds feels like it's cutting into my face.

Adrenaline rushes through my veins, but it's not the feeling of euphoria that some people claim it is. It's nothing like that. Fear makes my muscles seize up to the point that I nearly cramp, and shrieks of terror remain trapped in my throat. On the outside I'm frozen, but on the inside I'm screaming.

I force my tense muscles to move, my body slowly crawling along the train. Hopefully I'll find a hatch or a ladder or something to get me down.

"Okay, Walker, keep calm," Charlie instructs, and I clench my jaw. Easy for her to say! "The train's heading south. You should keep crawling, and once you reach the service ladder, you can use it to take you to the passenger level and you'll be able to get in at the next stop like a regular passenger. No one will be any wiser, and you'll be on your way to London, which honestly wasn't the plan, but it'll do.

"You're doing well up there. If it makes you feel any better, some kids do this for fun, right? I mean, they do then end up decapitated." She winces. "I should stop talking now."

As the wind whistles around me, still painfully stabbing my skin, I don't know if I find myself agreeing or not. Her talking makes it harder to concentrate on moving forward, but it at the very least keeps me from thinking about how terrifying this all is.

"Walker, I'm so grateful. I just can't tell you how grateful. The whole world is. Will be," She corrects. "Might never be, because they might never know what you've done. But you're a hero, Walker. If Marianne and the Burn had gotten hold of the devices, honestly, the whole world could have ended!"

If it weren't for the fact that I was afraid of swallowing a bug, I would ask her what she means by that. It sounds like an exaggeration, and it may very well be, but I still have no idea what Marianne has planned for these devices, nor do I know what Charlie wants to do with them.

I'm lurched forward as the screeching of train wheels hits my ears. It's slowing down, fast, the sudden stop nearly throwing me off the train car.

What the-

"I know that sounds like a hyperbole, but... huh. Looks like there's some kind of problem with the line. Wait a second and I'll just pull up some images to see-" She's cut off with a gasp as the train comes to a stop. "Oh, no. Oh, no! Walker, get down from there! You have to run!"

"Get down from there!" Another voice shouts, and I look down to see two people in police uniforms looking up at me. "Down! Now!"

I climb down the ladder, and the other police officer-or rather, a Burn member dressed like a police officer-grabs my arm. "You're comin' with us."

I hear footsteps, and I look up to see Lawrence stalking towards me. I swallow, my throat becoming tight with fear.

"Yeah, sorry, nice try, Walker. I mean, really nice try. Ninja secret agent nice. But yeah, no dice." He's wearing a smile, but the absolute rage in his eyes gives away his true emotions, along with the seething anger hidden under the dripping sweetness of his voice. "You've helpfully just brought yourself closer to the lab."

He grabs my arm and pulls me out of the Burn member's grip, pulling me flush against him. His face morphs into a glare as I tremble against him.

"You're coming with us."

•

"Guys, follow close behind," Lawrence orders, tugging my arm sharply. "We're not letting this one get away again."

"Sir," A guard replies with a nod, and he giggles, his dark demeanor shattering like glass to one that would appear innocent in another situation.

"Hilarious how they call me 'sir.' I really haven't done anything, but yeah. Here we are. Our lab. Got a few people who are dying to meet you." He chuckles. "That sounds like one of those horrible Bond gags, doesn't it? 'Dying to meet you.' Like, because if has dying in it, it's a kind of threat."

His smile drops. "We don't need to make threats, Walker. I really thought you and I were friends, but after what you just pulled..." His jaw clenches. "You need to realize that me liking you is the only way you'll make it out of this alive. It's my opinion that will make Soleil want to keep you–and would you stop bloody crying?!"

His snap is sudden and harsh, and I blink rapidly to stop the tears. I tried to be strong, truly. I feel weak, pathetic, although Lawrence hates my tears for a different reason than I do. He hates it because for some reason seeing me cry makes him slip up. He doesn't like it because I'm a weakness for him.

After taking a moment to regain his composure, Lawrence lets go of my arm, pulls out a card from his pocket and swipes it against a keypad beside a door. There's a faint beep and the door slides open, and I'm met with equipment I don't recognize and the sterile smell of cleaning solution. Bright fluorescent lights hang from above, nearly blinding as they reflect against the white tile flooring.

I clench my fists to keep my hands from shaking.

"Home sweet lab," He hums, before turning to give me a disapproving look. "You know, despite what Charlie's told you, it's not true that we need you alive. All we need is for the device to be registering some brain activity, so it thinks you're alive. All we need is your brain stem, really. We could cut the rest out and leave a little residual activity there, and we could use the device as much as we wanted."

His grin is malicious when he sees the horror on my face.

"I know. Gross, right? But that's how it is." He steps towards me, and I try to show an ounce of courage for once and not flinch when he brushes away my tears. "I wanted to keep you alive. Frankly, we might have been a bit more inclined to leave you with a bit more brain if you hadn't tried that little stunt, but I'm sure Charlie's been teaching you well, even if you are just an occupational therapist.

"And I mean, Charlie and Marianne–sisters, man. They don't always get on, and when they don't, it's chaos."

He grabs my arm and starts dragging me towards a door on the far side of the lab. We reach it, and he has to swipe his card again for it to open. Then we're in a hallway, heading towards yet another room. There's a window through that door, and I see a chair that has straps, along with a side table full of sharp knives and scalpels.

I struggle against him, digging my feet into the pristinely clean floor.

"No. No, please. Lawrence, please!" I beg, my voice cracking. His face scrunches up, as if he's doing everything he can to block out my voice. There are others around, but they pay us no mind other than the uninterested glances as they pass.

Charlie's crying in my head.

"Walker, I'm so sorry. I thought I could get you out of there," She sobs. "Walker, they've got Emma. Captured her and Paul as they were coming into the city."

My eyes widen. No.

"I don't even know if Paul's alive. I can't let them get you all. I just can't!" She lets out another sob. "I have to protect the world first, no matter the cost. Walker, I'm so sorry."

A thought comes into my head, and my stomach curls. The thing in my head–if I die, so does the device. That thing inside could probably destroy the brainstem, keep them from using it, using the device...

She's going to kill me.

A sob escapes my lips, and Lawrence audibly winces, but he doesn't stop pulling me along. Instead, he starts talking, as if trying to distract himself from me.

"To be honest, I never thought it would be this easy. I mean, when Marianne told me about it, and I was like 'Nah, that'll never work. I won't be able to pull it off.' But she believed in me. That's the thing, Walker, you've got to have someone to believe in, someone who believes in you."

"I've got no choice," Charlie cries. "I'm so sorry. I swore I'd never be like Marianne. I hate how she's become. I hate her! I swore I'd never have that disregard for human life, but I-" Her voice cracks, "I've got to do it!"

I squeeze my eyes shut, my heart pounding. This is it. I'm going to die.

My dad will never even know what happened to me.

"Walker, cover your ears. I'm setting off an EMP!"

My eyes fly open.

What?

There's a loud whirring, a zap, and then-

Boom!

I'm flung away from Lawrence as darkness swallows me whole. My body stops short as I hit a wall, flopping down onto the cold tile floor as explosions ring out into the darkness. I feel something fall beside me, the loud smacking of it telling me it's a chunk of the ceiling. There are more sounds of things falling over, followed by panicked, pain-filled screaming.

"What happened?" Someone shouts, and around me, several people cough–the same people who just walked by as Lawrence was dragging me towards certain death.

"My mobile's stopped working!" Someone yells.

"Marianne! Come in! Come in!" Lawrence shouts in panic, his voice shaking with worry. "Soleil!"

"Help!" A woman shouts. "Help me! My arm's trapped! Help!"

I remain frozen.

"Walker, stand up," Charlie commands. "Come on. Stand up!"

It hurts, an aching pain spreading across my entire body as I push myself up. My hands are outstretched in the darkness, trying to feel my way around.

A groan slips past my lips when I put too much pressure on my left leg. It doesn't hurt enough for anything to be broken, but I know I definitely landed on it wrong. Still, that noise of pain was enough to let Charlie know that I'm up and moving since she can't see me.

"Good. Back the way you came."

"Help me!" The woman calls again, and there are more panicked questions from those around as metal screeches and people cough. Someone's crying.

"It's you and me now, Walker, just like it was at the start."

"Uh-huh," I mutter dazedly.

"I hit the switch. It was the only way, and you've got to bring the device to me here in Geneva. Don't expect to hitch a lift." She lets out a shuddering breath. "I didn't mean for it to happen this way, but she had daisy-chained the signals."

My brows furrow, and although my mind is cloudy and I'm busy trying to get through this dark hallway, I find my thoughts clear enough to ask, "What do you mean?"

She takes a moment to answer, then two.

"I've just blacked out Europe."

A/N: I'm sorry for the roughy updates y'all. I've been, in the best terms, very very sick. Like it's bad. Please forgive me. I hope you enjoy the chapter and please be sure to vote and comment. Thank you and have a blessed day.