"Look, can we get on?" Amelia huffs, crossing her arms and pouting like a spoiled two-year-old.

While I can't see Sam's face, the sigh of annoyance he gives gives me the idea his look mirrors that of my own.

"You know as well as we do that we have to wait for the flag," He says. "Just because we've got the king on our side now-just because he's doing the rounds of undecided territories, building our support-doesn't mean the rules have gone away."

She huffs again, glancing at me while I keep my eyes on the flag post, waiting for the flag to raise and signal we can head onward to the settlement.

"Not long to go," Amelia says. "Devil Flesh leave Worthington-on-Sea at precisely fifteen minutes past the hour."

"Devil Flesh?" Maxine repeats, cocking a brow. "Is that as sinister as it sounds?"

"Oh, no. They're just the combination of Barree and Venment colonies. You must remember. After the war between Radial and Connor? When they poisoned each other's leaders?"

She shrugs sheepishly. "I uh, I lost track of that when Radial formed. I couldn't work out who they were allied with."

Amelia glances at me, her raised brow and slightly expectant look a silent of question, the same question. I simply shrug.

"I have enough problems to be worrying about. I can't focus on someone else's battles. If they want to fight, then go at it. Neither were exactly allies of Abel, so there was no side we were obligated to help, and they never went against Abel either. So I don't see why I needed to watch them."

She scoffs. "Well, if you will ignore world politics, it's your lookout, I suppose. You understand the purpose of Worthington-on-Sea, I hope."

"Uh, well, I know it's neutral," Sam says. "And different groups take turns, and no one's allowed to bring weapons."

"There's a transmitter in the spur here erected by a coalition of the Ministry, the Exmoore Militia, and the Psychoanalyst Enclave."

"The Psychoanalyst Enclave?" He repeats, and she nods.

"They had a lot of dirt on a lot of important people. They've done very well in this apocalypse. Anyway, no one was able to outright control Worthington, and an uneasy peace ensued, as is the style these days."

She's not wrong. Abel has a treaty with Worthington now, which is why I'm more inclined to keep an eye of them then I am with Devil Flesh. Abel people can go in, send or receive messages and make trade.

We did send some messages not too long ago. Nicole and I... We aren't close. Our bonds are still shaky, but we were able to use Worthington as a way to send out a message to our mother in America. We used letters, since those could be burned and not traced back to us. Sam actually found some diaries of Alice's, figured he should use this opportunity to send them to Frances, Alice's little sister. She's on some island or something. I don't know.

But I thought it was nice. Alice's sister deserves to know what happened to her, even if we are a bit late.

I just hope she's still alive to see them.

The loud sound of a cannon makes me flinch, the sound echoing through the air, the air cracking and shattering around the sound. Amelia simply rolls her eyes. I'll never understand how she's so... calm. I understand she's been here before. She and Seventeen were the ones who came and had our letters sent out, but still.

"Gosh, they make everything so bloody formal. There's the cannon, and here comes the flag. Come on. We haven't got long. Run."

We start off, my legs feeling stiff and achy in the morning air. The sun has only had its head peeking over the horizon for an hour or so, and the chill that still lingers proves that. Although I suppose that even with the sun up the cold will still stay. The February air has no mercy and no warmth. But, as the years have gone by, I find myself able to breathe and ignore the slight sting in my lungs and the burning of my throat. Instead I focus on my fingers, stiff and weak and aching in a way that only comes from not using them for a good eight hours. It's easier to focus on things such as this. It helps distract myself from the dreams, from the knowledge of what is to come.

I don't try to think too much about my dreams during missions. I can't distract myself from what's happening right now by worrying about what might come next. Doing so could quite possibly get me killed. And yet, I still wonder, and at the same time I'm terrified of learning the answer.

I know I should let it go. It's been a week since I had my last dream and I know nothing more about the original than I did before. The only thing I know now is apparently there were files on Van Ark and Dr. Tomorrow and Moonchild. All very terrifying people who did terrible things. This lab that I was... created in apparently had files on them before it was even revealed what they had done, what they were planning to do, besides Van Ark. Apparently the person in charge of creating me had a hunch Van Ark's ideas were going to go wrong.

Maybe that's what she was hoping for when she was creating us, her superhumans.

"It's kind of pretty, this promenade. And I like the vibe of this town. Down-at-heel off-season seaside is my jam," Maxine says, her brown eyes drinking in every detail of the town once we reach it. She smiles at the empty streets, the buildings with peeling paints that have faded from bright turquoise and yellow and orange, now dull and dreary. She tips her head to the side at the sight of all the shutters on the windows closed. "Is this place usually this deserted?"

"I expect that'll be the townsfolk staying out of the way of Devil Flesh," Amelia replies, looking at the streets, not at all surprised. "They're totally harmless, but they do smell."

"But our messages will be there?" Sam asks, his tone taking on the slightest hint of worry.

"Oh, yes. Sweetpea's very reliable, especially for a woman with pink and purple bunches. She runs the transmitter tower."

"Very reliable with a kind of loud personal style?" Maxine laughs. "Well, I don't suppose she's Janine in disguise, is she?"

I snort, the idea of Janine dying her hair pink and purple both hilarious and straight out weird.

"I thought of that, but no," Amelia says. "I've met her. Definitely not Janine."

Sam hums. "I keep doing that. Something happens, and I think, 'Oh, it just be Janine.' Like when we found those holes dugs in the Forest of Fallen Runners. My first thought was-"

"Has Janine dug up a weapons cache?" I finish, my laugh ringing out into the air. "Me too. Sometimes I wonder if she's, you know, trapped somewhere."

"Or dead," Amelia adds, and I whip my gaze toward her, glaring daggers into her skull.

"Janine isn't dead."

Her eyes widen a bit at the snarl in my voice, but she sighs. "No, she's not. I know because every time I make any headway with the Ministry, someone feeds them lies about me, making me out to be untrustworthy."

"That's because you are untrustworthy," I say, grinning when I hear Sam try to stifle a quiet giggle.

"My point is Janine is still alive. When she wants to be found, we'll find her, not before."

"Kind of like anyone in this town," Maxine says. The gleam of wonder and admiration for the beauty of this place is gone from her eyes, replaced with a building fear. "This is place is too quiet, even for me. Let's pick up the pace."

I understand her fear. It seems that while we were talking, the air changed, the feeling of this quiet seaside town going from peaceful and serene to creepy and unsettling in seconds. If we weren't already in a zombie apocalypse, I'd say this town is Maine levels of creepy.

So we keep moving, our footsteps light and quick against the concrete sidewalks and asphalt roads, the coolness around me causing goosebumps to rise under my jacket. My fingers ache to grab at my axe even though it isn't there. It's in Abel. I don't exactly understand my worry. There is no clear sign of danger, or even a subtle one beside that of the atmosphere and the unease that makes my stomach churn.

But we can't turn back now. We need to get this message. It's hard to get messages these days, whether they're encrypted recordings or written down like a letter. Sigrid, while she claims to be peaceful and holding to our ceasefire treaty, does have people trying to get our messages to see what we're planning. She knows now just how resilient we can be. We don't take kindly to people trying to take our home.

And I don't take kindly to people trying to hurt my family.

"This is the place," Amelia says as we head out of the main streets of the town. "Lighthouse at the end of the jetty is the listening post. Our delivery will be in one of these gravel bins."

"Don't they come down from the listening post to talk to us?" Maxine asks, and Amelia shakes her head.

"No. They're listening, and they wouldn't want to play favorites." She pauses. "But look, that gravel bin has our name on it."

She heads over there, grabbing the padlock and clicking in what must be a pre-arranged number. The lock clicks and opens, and I push up the bin lid after getting an expectant look from Amelia. She grabs a few pieces of paper and scans through them.

"Blah blah... more settlements saying they can't join the Abel alliance because the Minister's promised them her vaccine serum. Blah blah... Ah, here, Dr. Meyers-a message from the Ministry for Abel. That'll be from your Laundry friends. Oooh, and there's a parcel in there for me." She reaches in the bin to grab it, but then pauses, her face morphing into a scowl. "Oh. No, leave it."

"Why? What is it?" I ask curiously, looking in the bin.

"It's nothing we want."

I frown at the gold colored wrapping paper, and the pretty pink bow on the box. There's even a tag with swirly cursive handwriting, but no name. "It looks expensively wrapped. You've never been one to leave supplies, Amelia."

She ignores my comment, looking over at Maxine. "Why don't you open that letter, Doctor?"

Maxine tears the envelope, her lips pinching together when she pulls the paper out. "It's in code. I forgot. Ellie's taught all this to Zoe and Phil in case she needed to communicate from behind enemy lines. So, um, yeah. Just give me a minute and I can work this out. That letter followed by that one makes a 'D', and I think those three make a 'P'."

"Can't you do this on the run?"

I blink, watching as she steps away from the bin. "Are you really going to leave this? Because if so, I want it."

She smirks. "And why would you want something that's meant for me?"

"Because I'm curious, and I'm also a borderline hoarder with sticky fingers."

She rolls her eyes. "Fine. Throw it in the sea for all I care. Just come on."

I flinch back at her sudden change in attitude, but I don't say anything. I simply grab the parcel from the bin and follow Amelia and Maxine. I eye the parcel in my hand, wondering if I should open it now or at home. Something about this truly sparks my curiosity, while at the same time makes me nervous, seeing that Amelia doesn't want it.

But Amelia is weird and has her own secrets, and if this was a bomb or some other weapon that would risk hurting her, she would have already ran for the hills. So it must be something that's not going to kill me. At least, I don't think it's going to kill me. I hope it won't kill me.

But I guess I can worry about this parcel later. The message from the Laundry is top priority. Maxine is busy at work decoding it, muttering different letters every so often. I have to guide her through the streets of Worthington, just to keep her from running into a building or something. There are still no people out, not even a single person. I don't like it.

But we have what we came for, so I suppose it doesn't matter now that we can get out of here.
Still though, if people are waiting for us to leave, why have I not seen one person crack open a window shutter to see if we've gone? It's like everyone's in hiding and are too afraid to even look out at us or something.

Or maybe there isn't anyone here at all.

I pick up the pace, pulling Maxine along and forcing Amelia to follow.

"Okay, so that's an 'X'," Maxine murmurs and we continue through the streets, "so yeah. Yeah, this message is definitely from Ellie Maxted. She's taken over as head of the Laundry now."

There's a faint boom in the distance, behind us, at the other end of Worthington. My shoulders tense.

"I just heard something," Amelia says, her voice strained. She looks over at me with worry swirling in her blue eyes.

Oh, I don't like that.

"Ah! Then if that's a 'B', and that's a 'B' too... yeah, I think this is about the babies, you guys," Maxine says, catching both of our attention. "The Laundry sent a team to pick up the babies Sigrid was using to make her serum. That was Ellie's main priority-rescue them from Finland."

Amelia's shoulders relax. "Oh, good. I'm glad that's settled. Well done, Team Do-Gooders. Sam, have you got any long-range cams here? That parcel's giving me a bad feeling."

I hold that box to my ear and give it a shake. "What's in here anyway? Do you have a mystery admirer or something? If you do, I want to figure out who it is just so I can ask him... why you?"

"Not a mystery," She replies, ignoring my jab. "I recognize the handwriting. It's Valmont."

"Ooh, your husband, the multi-billionaire," Maxine says. "Why is he sending you gifts? And how did he know that you were here?"

"Two excellent questions." She frowns.

"Guys," Sam interrupts. There's a twinge of worry in his voice that puts me on edge. "There's a horde of zombies cutting off your safe route out of town. Um, yeah, you might be able to make your way around them and out, but if not-"

"They'll drive us into Sigrid's territory," I finish, cursing under my breath. If we end up there, then we're fair game. "I'll take point. Come on. Let's go!"

•

"Oh God!" Maxine gasps. "I haven't seen this many zombies together in months!"

"Lucky you," I reply, remembering last week and the neutral zone.

"How the hell did they get here out of nowhere?"

Amelia's lips curls up, annoyance and frustration showing through in the furrow of her brow and the glimmer in her eyes. "I think that's obvious. I know the man who runs Worthington-on-Sea. Calls himself 'Raoul' now, as if he thinks he's running Cuba on the side. Before he took over here, he was called Ralph. He used to be a stringer for me. Amazing what a sudden elevation in status you get running a tinpot settlement.

"He cleared his people out of town and lured the horde here. I heard the flash-bang go off. Act of zombie isn't covered under the treaty, so he won't be responsible for this to Abel's allies. Don't worry. I'll make it my mission to destroy him, just as soon as we get out of here."

I swallow, glad one of us has confidence in getting out of here alive. The flash bang that went off drew them inward towards us, and trying to run around them has got us on the edge of town, with the zombies gaining.

And since no weapons were allowed in here because it's neutral territory, we didn't bother to bring any.

"Five, you might be able to run faster if you got rid of that stupid box," Amelia insists, but that gives me an idea to open it. As far as it seems, Brent isn't trying to kill Amelia, so maybe whatever is in here might be useful.

I tear open the box, and I find it filled with pretty pink paper, with a perfume bottle resting at the top of it.

"Oh, perfume. Bummer."

"Well, that's typical. Constantly with the fake romance," The blonde says with an eye roll.

"Looks expensive," I hum with a shrug, ignoring the growls behind me for a moment. "I guess we get to smell good before we die. It even sounds expensive. Eau de Maron."

"Eau de Maron?" Sam repeats.

"Yeah. Did I pronounce it wrong?"

"No, it's just-I've read about that stuff on Roufflenet. It's a legend!"

"Just a second," Amelia says, snatching the bottle from my hands. I glare at her, but she ignores me. "You're right! This perfume bacame famous in the siege of John Lewis, early days of the apocalypse. It's got some molecule in it that mimics human pheromones so well that zombies will follow it instead of following humans."

I blink, a smile pulling at my lips as I take the bottle back. "Well, thank you, Brent."

"Five, run south from here," Sam instructs. "Throw that bottle in a line towards the sea. Lay a trail. Now, run!"

I shove the box into Maxine's hands, keeping the perfume bottle and running off, spritzing the perfume behind me to attract the zombies. Fortunately, the scent seems to reach them fairly quickly. I don't really know if the perfume smells good since the smell of rotting flesh overpowers it, but I suppose it doesn't matter.

We're already on the far side of town, and the sea is not too far away. Amelia and Maxine are running parallel to me. They can't exactly turn and run in the opposite direction because they'll run right into the zombies, and the only other directions to turn to lead into Sigrid's territory or into the ocean. But they're staying far enough away from me so I won't spray any of the perfume on them by accident, or on purpose in Amelia's case.

But Maxine is looking at the box I shoved into her hands. She's tearing out the pink paper that's in the box, which is a shame because I was going to keep that. I'll be sure to reprimand her for it after we get out of this mess.

I keep pushing, my lungs beginning to burn as the cold air scratches at my insides, my panic making me unable to ignore the pain. Cold beads of sweat roll down my forehead as I lean back, my grip on the perfume tightening as I see the cliffside come into view. My bicep tenses as I throw my arm back, waiting to get close enough, my breathing heavy and my footsteps pounding in my head as I throw the bottle forward.

The glass bottle shatters right at the edge of the cliff, most of the liquid pouring over the side. I watch as the zombies' heads all turn towards the cliff, the smell of the perfume overriding what they see right in front of them, and they start off, falling off the cliff.

"It's working!" Sam exclaims. "It's definitely working! They're following your perfume, Amelia!"

"It's not my perfume!" She snaps as she and Maxine head back toward me.

"I get it. This dude is some kind of creepy ex, right?" Maxine asks, and the blonde shrugs.

"In a way."

"He's stalking you, right?"

Another shrug. "Well, he's trying to get me back. I might have left with uh, one or two of his belongings. Nothing very significant." She blinks at the sound of a cannon firing. "Oh, good. Here's another emergency for Team Abel to solve. Go on, team. Deal with the emergency."

"Uh, yeah," Sam says uneasily, "that was the cannon."

"I thought everyone left," I say.

"Apparently Ralph decided to stay. Maybe he wanted to see Amelia's demise or something. Anyway, you're official on Sigrid's time in Worthington now. And that horde isn't following you anymore, but it's still on your path home. You can't wait for them all to go off that cliff. You could run around them, but..." He sighs. "Yeah, Sigrid's soldiers are fanning out across Worthington."

"So stealth mission?" Amelia guesses. "Run and hide."

"Uh, no," Maxine says, pulling out more of the pink paper from the box. "I think your creepy ex has given us another alternative. I know weapons aren't allowed in Worthington, but under all this paper are handguns!"

She hands one to me and then Amelia before tossing the box. "We can shoot our way trough the zoms! Let's do this the old fashioned way. Five, you take point. We're heading for the border. Run!"

I grin wickedly, running for the horde that's still paying us no mind.

Then I fire. It's a clean headshot, but the sound gets some of the zombies to look away from the cliffside, the smell of three humans getting closer starting to overpower that of the perfume. I fire again, and I get another headshot, and another, and another.

That's when I realize it's not me doing the aiming, it's the gun. It almost feels too easy, like I'm in a video game that has auto aim or something. I lower my hand, aiming for the stomach of a zombie, just to test it.

The gun jerks as soon as I start to pull the trigger, the force strong enough to get my whole arm to jerk up. The bullet goes straight through the zombie's skull.

What the hell?

I shake my head, stepping over the rotting corpses of those shot down by me and Maxine and Amelia. The sound of gunshots echo through the air. Ministry soldiers surely have heard it. They want their message, but Sam said they're fanning out. They're probably hoping we'll still be here. If we are then they can shoot us or whatever it is the treaty says, because we're here on their time.

And we all know that they've somehow managed to sneak in weapons. The Minister wouldn't send her soldiers in without them.

And that's why I have to pick up the pace.

The zombies are falling down one after the other. We're getting closer and closer to safety with every step.

"Runner Five, to your left!" Amelia shouts, and I turn just in time to see a zombie lunging for me, reaching out to sink its teeth into my arm.

I don't even bother raising my arm to aim. My finger curls on the trigger, the sound of the gunshot ringing out as my arm jerks up, the bullet flying right through the zombie's eye and out the back of its head, spewing a line of grayish red blood as the body crumples to the ground like an abused rag doll.

"These pistols are amazing, Amelia!" Maxine exclaims. "The laser sights, trajectory, adjusting rounds. They must have some kind of AI targeting correction on them too. I'm getting headshots every time."

I flinch as if I'd been slapped.

AI?

Yes, I suppose it would make sense, since Brent owns A.N.N.I.E. Does Amelia know what A.N.N.I.E. has sent after me? Does she even know what it is?

"Yes, well, that's how he operates," She replies, and I swallow, deciding it would probably not be a smart decision to ask her about it, since she will use that as a means of blackmail, because it's Amelia we're talking about.

"Stop in the name of the Minister!"

"Shit," I curse.

"You're nearly at the border, guys," Sam says. "Sigrid's soldiers are after you, but you can make it. You have to make it. If they manage to catch you, the treaties say they can take you prisoner! Go!"

•

"Stop!" A soldier yells, and bullets fly by us a second later. We keep running. There's a wall, only a few feet high, just up ahead. It's the mark of Abel territory. We're so close now.

So close.

My index finger itches to fire at the soldiers chasing us, but I know if I were to do so, even if I were somehow able to miss with this type of gun, I'd be declaring war. We were in Worthington-on-Sea during Sigrid's time there. Even though we were set up, we're technically the ones that broke the rules.

So basically, they can shoot at us, but we can't shoot at them.

Stupid ass treaty rules.

"Stop in the name of the Minister!"

"Yeah, don't stop, guys. Keep running," Sam says, and I roll my eyes.

"Oh, good thing you said that. I was thinking it was time to pause for a breather."

"Can the sarcasm, Callista."

I scoff. "Please. I always use fresh sarcasm, never canned."

"Haha, very funny."

"Humor me. I'm currently being shot at."

"Like that actually means anything," He mutters, and I tense, my jaw clenching and all humor in my tone gone.

"Thin ice," I say warningly, scrambling over the wall once we reach it. The soldiers stop seconds later, knowing that they've lost. They can't fire at us now. We're on Abel territory.

"Man, that is so weird," Maxine pants, placing her hands on her hips as her chest heaves. "Sigrid's soldiers are just a few hundred yards away, but they can't come into Abel territory, or it'll spark a full-on war."

"Yeah, well, Sigrid doesn't want that, does she? She knows now we've got Abel back, we've got access to Janine's armory, and well, if she wipes us out, we wipe her out." There's a shrug in Sam's voice. "Mutually-assured destruction."

"Yes," Amelia agrees with a nod as we turn to head off. "You know, that's how I used to feel about my marriage. I suppose you all noticed. He knew what was going to happen here."

Maxine scrunches up her nose. "Yeah, that is kind of creepy."

"I'll have to think carefully about my next move. Right. Good to have a project. Did you translate the rest of the message yet, Doctor? All the babies safe and well and somewhere nice and warm? No more new serum vials for Auntie Sigrid?"

She looks at the note she stuffed in her backpack pocket and shakes her head. "Actually, it's bad news. The team from the Laundry arrived in Finland two weeks ago, and the facility we sent them to was empty. Staff gone, babies gone. Just empty buildings, Ellie says."

"No!" Sam cries, and my heart sinks at the news at at just how heartbroken Sam sounds.

"Well, that's simple. We'll just have to find them and rescue them," Amelia replies.

"It's not going to be easy," I say with a frown.

"I know that, but I'm feeling very efficacious today, and the sight of dozens of infants being used as a serum factory sparked some useless sympathy in me, and that's that. I will stop at literally nothing to save them."

"Oh, well, yeah. That sounds good, actually," Sam says, although his voice still shakes with the disappointment of the latest news. "Want a hand with it? I know a lot of people on Roufflenet-well, people who want to help me. And Nicole has... connections. Anyway, if we find those babies, it'll be one more blow against Sigrid's plans. A blow against her ability to recruit allies, and a blow in favor of lots of little babies."

Amelia stays silent for a moment before huffing. "Fine. Just don't tell anyone about this. It'd ruin my reputation."

A/N: Here you go, guys! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. It is dedicated to SHADOWS-OF-BLUE
Please be sure to vote and comment! Thank you and have a blessed day!