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Chapter 33: Cave In

I shiver, the water hitting my skin absolutely scalding compared to the chill that's dug itself into my bones. I had to run back to Abel without my jacket since it was covered in zombie blood, and the night only grew colder as we ran home.

Kefilwe and Steve are with Janine now, giving more details than the basic debriefing I gave before running to take a shower to warm myself up. Plus I want to get this ugly color out of my hair. The shower itself looks like a crime scene with the streams of bright red that run down my back and swirl down the drain. I pray it doesn't stain. Lord knows how long it'll take me to scrub it away if it does.

I don't know how to feel, knowing what we know now. I'm sure Janine will think of something; she usually does. There's always someone who can and will come up with a plan, but even with that knowledge, there's this uncertainty, this worry and fear that sits deep within me, leaving me feeling like I'm standing on unstable ground. I've been praying while I've been in here since it's the only place that's quiet but still warm. I've been asking, just close to begging for some kind of answer to what we should do-what I should do.

I don't get an answer, not that I expected to suddenly just hear God tell me what to do. The sense of peace that comes with prayer is there, but it is quickly overshadowed by my own mounting worries. I just want an answer to something! It doesn't even have to be about this. It could be about my dreams, my immortality, the Original, the V-Types, anything!

I'm just so tired of feeling like I'm wandering around in the dark. How can I carry on if I can't find You?

The noise of the water hitting the tile floor is almost deafening, but it is the only sound I hear. My heart sinks in disappointment, although I know I shouldn't just expect an answer right away. It's not exactly like I deserve it, seeing that I have so little faith and yet always such high demands.

"Callista?" Sam's voice echoes against the tiles and water. "Are you alright?"

"Uh, yeah, yeah," I say quickly, rubbing a hand over my face as if to snap myself out of my trance. "Have I overwent my time?"

"No, I just uh-well, I wanted to just come check on you. Nadia told me what happened with you and that girl and the jacket."

"Oh."

Silence follows my clipped response.

"Are you okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" I force a coy tone to my words.

"Well, I just know it's been awhile since you uh, had that kind of strength, and Steve and Kefilwe never really knew-I mean, they probably did know, but-"

"But it's different to actually seeing it," I finish. I let my head hang down as I wait for him to reply. There's a strange sense of numbness that comes as I think about what he's said.

He's right. It has been awhile since I've done something like that. I remember the slight fear in Steve's eyes, and while at the time I was too preoccupied by other things to think about it, thinking about it now reminds me why I wanted even this kept a secret.

People don't like it when you're different, and what's worse is he doesn't even know the half of it.

"Does Janine need to speak with me?" I ask after a moment, figuring Sam is still in his head trying to think of what to say next.

"Uh, no, no," He replies. "I think she got all she needed from Bots and Steve. She's probably in her office now, trying to figure out what we're going to do since there are... agents waiting for this signal, whatever it may be."

"Well, we've at least done something, right? Any pills the Riders send out now will be placebos."

Sam hums in satisfaction. A small victory is still a victory. "Yeah, and they still think you're dead. Did Nadia say anything about your hair?"

I roll my eyes at the slight teasing tone in his voice. "No. She's a lot nicer than you."

"Not true! I'm extremely nice."

"Whatever. You won't be able to make fun of me anymore because I've washed it out." I pop my head out of the shower and smile a bit ruefully. "See? Back to brown."

Sam's eyes are wide, lips parted in what can only be pure, genuine shock, which causes me to falter the slightest bit.

"What?" I ask, a pit of nervousness swirling in my stomach as his stare remains the same.

"Your hair is orange," He says, and the absolute shriek that leaves my lips a second later is almost inhuman.

"What?!" I instantly reach forward and grab a towel, throwing it around myself before slinging myself out of the shower stall, not even bothering to turn the water off even though hot water is precious in Abel. I don't dry off, instead just using the towel to cover myself and keep my modesty lest someone else besides my husband decides to come in here. The water dripping off me to the floor nearly causes me to slip and fall on my ass as I scurry to get to a mirror to see whatever it is Sam's talking about.

But when I reach the mirrors, which are slightly foggy from the steam of my shower, I see that my hair is not orange, but is in fact the original dark brown it was before this fake dying process began. It's only a few seconds into my relief that I hear Sam's echoing laughter.

The glare I give him when I spin around to face him is enough to make him flinch, but not enough to wipe the smile from his face or keep the sputtering laughter from slipping past his lips.

"That's the fastest I think I've ever seen you run in your life, and I've seen you sprint when put into life-threatening situations," He says, although it's hard to interpret since he keeps gasping for air, his wheezing leaving his breathless.

"You asshole!" I screech, my face hot with embarrassment. "You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

"I'm sorry, but I had to," He replies, smiling. "It's not often I get to see you in such a state."

"That was not nice."

He rolls his eyes. "Well, there have certainly been times you haven't been nice to me."

"You're lucky I don't have anything to throw at you."

He scoffs as I trudge back over to the stall, slinging open the curtain so I can grab the handle and turn the water off. "Well, that doesn't seem very nice, does it? And I mean, you do have that towel, but probably best you save that kind of move for somewhere more private."

I flip him off as I grab my clothes, which actually seems to shock him. While he still cracks a smile, it's not as genuine as his earlier ones. I don't really care. I'm still mad at him for embarrassing me. So I head into the changing stalls and puts on my pajama pants and fuzzy shirt. They'll keep me at least somewhat warm on the walk back to the coms shack, and as I emerge from the stalls, I make sure to use the towel to dry my hair as much as possible. I can't catch pneumonia, but that doesn't mean I can't feel how much worse wet hair makes the cold feel.

Tossing the towel into the laundry hamper, I turn to Sam, who's looking at me curiously, as if not sure what to expect.

"I'm tired. If Janine doesn't need me, then let's just go to bed." My tone simmers with annoyance, but I still let Sam take my hand as we head out of the shower area, for added warmth more than anything.

We walk in silence, the dirt shifting silently under my flats that do nothing to keep my toes warm. That thought isn't on my mind. My mind is unfortunately going at speeds of 100 miles an hour, thinking about how Sam scared me with the thought of my hair being orange, to if my hair had actually turned orange, to how that would have made me look different than everybody else, to how I am different compared to everybody else, to how I ripped off that zombie's head tonight-

"Did Nadia say anything about me?"

"What?" Sam asks, but I don't look at him.

"About the-about what I did with my jacket and that girl that turned zom... Did she say anything besides just telling you what happened?"

"I mean, she seemed a little shocked when she told me you said Van Ark's treatments gave you superhuman strength when you were in a dire enough situation. I think she already knew that though, but she just forgot."

"Yeah. Forgot," I mumble as we reach the coms shack. I swing the door open and head inside, the heat that hits me from the heater in the corner of the room making me feel slightly better.

"Are you okay?"

When I look over my shoulder and see the concern swirling in his eyes, I sigh.

"Yeah, I just... when I did that, Steve actually looked afraid of me. He looked at me as if I wasn't quite human." I shrug. "I guess that makes sense, since I'm not quite human, but still. And I shouldn't be so upset about it, because I'm sure people look at Peter like this every day and-I-I don't know. I'm just worrying for nothing. Soon Veronica will have found a way for me to be mortal again, and everything will be fine."

He nods, taking a small step towards me. "That's true, but that super strength did help in this case. You saved Bots from being bitten, and who knows how fast she would have turned if that zombie had infected her? That's why I-"

"I know. That's why you want me to wait until after we've saved the world from the second apocalypse before becoming mortal again," I finish, letting him take another step closer to me. "But we've been looking for months, and we've still found nothing. For all we know, by the time we find the cure, the apocalypse may already be over."

"That's a very big maybe."

I shrug. "Every other situation we've been in has been too." I take his hand, leading him over to the bed and flopping down onto it, making sure to get under the covers. It's nearly curfew anyway, so I don't think Sam would mind us going to bed a bit earlier than normal. "And if immortality doesn't protect me against regular zoms, it won't protect me against V-Types either."

"But it does protect you from the Last Riders."

"I can protect myself from them without the immortality, thank you," I reply, booping his nose with my finger. Resting my head on the pillow, I look up at the ceiling, unsure what to say next but not wanting to sit in suffocating silence. "The real question is whether or not Peter's immortality will keep him safe."

He raises a brow. "What do you mean?"

"Well, we know regular zombie bites can't kill him but are V-Types... Would they be able to..." I pause, not wanting to think about Peter having to become that after being forced to live through so much horror. "A-And what about you? Or Phineas or Adora or Sarah? You're immune to the normal zombie virus, the one we have a cure for... but we learned how to make a cure by antibodies... If the cure doesn't work for V-Type bites, does that mean you guys won't-" My voice cracks, and Sam scoots closer so he can wrap his arms around me.

"Those are a lot of questions that we unfortunately cannot get the answers to right now."

"Why does that seem to be the saying for everything right now?" I sigh, and Sam doesn't answer right away, probably because he's just as upset about it as I am.

"Because God likes to test our patience," He answers. "But those questions aren't one we need answers to if we stay safe. I know Phineas and Sarah and Adora won't be going outside the township, and I doubt I'll be going outside any time soon, and Peter knows when and when not to let himself be hurt."

"Still, I just worry."

"Hm, sort of like how I worry about you all the time even though you have a good chance of surviving almost anything?" He wears a smile that lets me know he's caught me, so I avoid eye contact and lightly shove his shoulder.

"Shut up."

"Great come back."

"Great job at not obeying my come back."

"There are many ways to shut me up, but telling me to do so isn't one of them." His sharp grin turns into a soft, caring smile as he reaches up and cups my jaw, his thumb tracing around my bottom lip. "Would you like me to go get Adora from Maxi and Paula?"

I scoff and give him a raised brow. "And risking making Sarah mad and have her scream and then have those two angry at me for the next week? No, thanks. Let's just go to bed. Perhaps our dreams will be better than what's going on right now."

"Perhaps you'll have a dream that relates back to Catherine and what significance came from that dream you had as her."

I smile. "Maybe."

Unfortunately, neither of us guessed correctly.

I think it's four in the morning. I haven't bothered looking at the clock on the walls but I'm sure my guess is close to tonight's actual time. Tonight has been a cycle of sleeping restlessly, waking up, tossing and turning until I finally going asleep, and then the sleep being just as restless as before.

Sam is sleeping beside me, and I've been doing my best not to wake him up. There's no need to have both of us tired in the morning, although there are a few times I debate whether I should wake him up since he keeps mumbling in his sleep about different things concerning his friends and family, how it's his fault, how he should have been better...

But every time I debate waking him up, he goes silent, the wrinkle in his brow smoothing out as his face relaxes, as if his nightmare comes and goes.

I stroke his cheek with the back of my hand, which elicits a small hum of approval from him, and I lean forward to press a kiss to his forehead before pushing myself to sit up. It's clear that I'm not going to get a good night's sleep tonight, and while I could most definitely look up things on Roufflenet to tire my mind out, Sam's already shut down the equipment for tonight and I don't want to risk waking him up by trying to start it up. The computer we use is kind of old technology wise, and sometimes it makes certain noises when it starts up.

We really need to talk to Janine about getting new monitors. Since Valmont is always so eager to help out, I think he might provide... but then again, he may give something that has A.N.N.I.E. on it, and she hates me, so maybe asking him for help in the tech department isn't the best idea.

Either way, Roufflenet isn't going to cut it tonight, and while I know Tom and Peter are probably up smoking and talking about absolutely nothing and having a grand-or as close as the two can get to grand-old time. I personally don't have the energy to talk to another person right now. Spending hours with Kefilwe and Steve and their drama drained me more than I expected.

While it is interesting to hear about their relationship, all the drama and "tea" as I've heard Lucy call it is exhausting, even when I am not a part of said tea. I remember the drama concerning my and Sam's relationship, which mostly was us dancing around our feelings and oblivious to how the other felt. Looking back it's laughable how we didn't see it before. Our flirting has remained much the same, as have our cuddles, hugs, and all that. Then we saw those gestures as friendly...

How blind we were.

Bending down to give my husband one more kiss to the forehead, I push myself up out of bed, slipping on some soft shoes and putting on a jacket to keep the cold out. I creep along to the other side of the room to the door, but not before grabbing my lock picking kit from the coms desk. I'm thankful that Adora is with Maxine and Paula so I have one less person to worry about waking up. After slowly opening the door, I head out quietly and quickly so I don't let any of the warm air out. I'd hate for Sam to catch a cold because of me. Just because I can't get sick anymore doesn't mean he can't.

So I head down the street. It's dark, the only lights being the ones on the buildings. I know there are cameras recording my movements, although I don't worry about being out past curfew. Sam's usually the one who checks to see about those sneaking out and reports it back to Janine, and he never reports me, Peter or Tom since he knows we'll still do it even after getting trouble. And if Amber ends up checking then she'll probably just get onto me herself than make out a full report to send to Janine. She sees it as too much work and Janine has enough to worry about.

Nicole won't report me because she knows she does the exact same thing. Plus she'd probably be curious as to what I'm doing, even if she may find out it's just a waste of time. I think she's willing to follow anything if there's a chance it will relate back to Project Feive. How she's just okay and so interested in this so she can send a report back baffles me.

But in a way I get why she's interested. What we were intended for hasn't actually been disclosed. Yes, I was to be the leader of my group. Yes, I know Pro. Feive wanted us to change the world, but how? And even though we were supposed to "save" the world, what did that really mean? Sigrid thought she was saving the world by unleashing the zombie plague upon it. Van Ark thought he was saving a bit of the world be creating rapid cell regeneration and making people immortal. Moonchild thought she was saving the world by trying to mind control them and make everyone happy.

Who's to say Pro. Feive's version of saving the world wasn't just as twisted?

I know why Nicole wants to send back a report. America needs to care for itself and be concerned for itself. Just because my team failed doesn't mean Feive didn't try again or is working with Catherine to try again. If Feive isn't alive, then maybe Catherine is trying to try again with her vision. It's all so hard to know, so hard to guess. I can understand why Nicole feels the need to tell her superiors.

But that doesn't make me any less wary.

I reach the library and using my lock picking kit, I pick the lock and head inside. It's instantly warmer, a few heaters still going. I'm sure Janine would be pissed to know that, since it's heating a space that no one is in at this hour. Besides me, of course. It's a waste of energy for the generators, but I think the people who left the two in the corner on did so because they plan on coming in early this next morning and didn't want to wait for the heaters to warm up the space while they sit shivering in their casual clothes.

I pick one of the first books I find. I'm not exactly too interested in reading, but it's not like I can do much else right now, and it would feel weird sitting in a library and doing nothing. I turn on one of the sections of lights by the heaters in the corner. Reading in the dark isn't exactly good for my health, and I don't really want to be like Sam and be forced to wear glasses. With how much shit I give him for having glasses I don't think it would be good for me to have to wear them. He'd probably find it funny though.

I don't think I actually will need glasses since I have the cell regeneration. I don't really have to worry about that until after I become mortal.

And I will become mortal. I nearly laugh at the thought. I know that that statement isn't set in stone, but I want to pretend it is for now just to give me a bit more hope. We're working so hard, trying so hard to figure something out. Hope is all I can hold on to right now.

I look down at the book in my hand, wishing I had just grabbed my Bible from this coms shack. The Word of God would help me with having hope much more than this random book about leather would. It seems that I am just making stupid mistakes and getting into my own head tonight.

With I sigh I start to read the words on the page, the words there but not registering in my brain. I'm more skimming than reading. I try to keep my focus on the ink words, trying to find some way to distract myself, keep my dumb thoughts to myself because I always do this! I can't let myself just enjoy something! I overthink about everything. I constantly think about things I can't change, and even when I recognize it, I can't stop.

That's why I force myself to keep going through the book, picking apart certain facts or words that grab my attention. It's enough for me to hold onto and keep reading to help the time pass. Once that happens it will be time to carry on with the tasks of the day. I'll have to look at my schedule to see what I've been assigned. I should know it, but the stress of this last run has caused me to forget. I probably won't have another run assigned, but I may have work to do in the kitchens, or maybe in the gardens or greenhouse.

I pause in my reading. Something in the air changes, and I feel every hair stand on in as I take in a sharp breath. My shoulders tense, and I look up and whip my gaze around at the new feeling.

"Is someone there?" I call out, which is stupid. If someone is here, they wouldn't be waiting for me to call out to them to appear. They must not want me to see them. I slowly set the book down and stand, feeling tense and ready to fight. I mentally go over some of the things Tom taught me, some of the techniques and tips he taught and retaught me. Turns out I'd forgotten some things from the A.M.T.B., but Tom helped me relearn them.

I'm small so I can use that as an advantage to keep light on me feet if I get close enough to hand to hand combat. I can use someone else's weight against them, but I can't exactly tell how tall this person is, because as I look through the shelves of books, I see no one.

"I'm not playing games," I call out in warning. "If you think you can sneak up on me, you'll have another thing coming-"

"The thing is, Abel Runners, I've always known there was something up with you. Something wrong."

The words hit me like a punch to the side of my head. The force sends me stumbling backwards, and the voice that spoke the words sounds vaguely familiar. It's tinged with malice and hate, bitterness carved through the rough edges of his voice.

"Runner Five! I should have dealt with you a long time ago."

There are sounds of metal clanking and whirling, clangs of metal on metal, the sound vibrating through my bones. My jaw clenches, teeth grinding together from the pain. I feel a sudden sense of fear and the overwhelming desire to run, even though the room looks the same. I have no idea where I should run to! Where do I go? Who am I running from? This doesn't sound like any particular Last Rider. And don't the Last Riders think I'm dead anyway?

"...There are forces running this world, Runner Five. I think maybe you used to try to protect people from them, but you've been corrupted, like all of them! Like the Edgeware Dragons. Like A.N.N.I.E. Like Colonel Sage! Corrupt, and turned to evil!"

Colonel Sage? I shake my head. No, that can't be right. Colonel Sage is a hard ass, sure, but corrupt? Evil? No. He hates the Last Riders more than anyone. Who the hell is this guy?

"I have to cut the infection out at the root!"

"He's coming after you!" Sam yells in panic. "Run!"

I know this isn't present, but I obey, springing out of the library like my life depends on it.

"I don't like to do this," The man says-this crazy, angry person with a voice gravelly and angry. "I don't want to! But it's the only way... You'll be the first to die, and you'll keeping dying forever!"

I feel warm blood start to drip down my nose as I run, and the lights on the building begin to dim. They're becoming blurry, less bright, the light less sharp against the darkness. Shades of black start swirling together, other colors that I can make out in the darkness starting to blend and merge with their surroundings.

I hear a scream that I know doesn't belong to me, and I feel like the air has been sucked out of my lungs.

"I've worked it out. She's the root of it... The world's better off without her."

I drop to my knees, black swimming at the edges of my vision. I think I hear voices calling out to me, and as I look up, I see Peter and Tom both racing towards me, concerned looks on their faces. Peter drops to his knees to grab my arms. His lips move, but I don't hear the words that leave his mouth.

"Good thing you guys were out here," I say, or at least I think I say it. I can't hear my own voice. Peter's lips move again, and I think it's to ask me what's wrong, so I speak again, my tongue heavy in my mouth as words I can't hear run past my lips. "I don't think the Last Riders, or the V-Types are our biggest enemies."

My head drops back, but Tom bends down to grab the back of my head to lift my head up. His brows pinch, and I'm sure he asks what I mean.

"There's someone else, someone dangerous. He's going to do destroy everything by destroying one thing."

I see his lips move again. "What will he destroy?"

I choke out the words as darkness consumes me.

"Our leader. He's going to kill Janine."

I pass out.

A/N: Here you go, guys! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please be sure to vote and comment! Thank you and have a blessed day!

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