I sit in the passenger's seat of the car, gazing out of the window as we drive through the land in complete silence. I’m not used to this at all. Whenever we took a drive as a group we’d either be involved in some insane chase, gun-fight or at the very least, a heated argument . Even during the days where things were a little quiet, there would at least be a few questions floating around or someone would try and start some shit. But not today. Everyone is deathly silent, not peeping a word to anyone else or even looking in anyone else's direction. Everyone's eyes are either on the floor or out the window. 

Instead of watching the dry deserted roads in front of us, I people watch and take in all of the shit everyone in the gang wears on their face. First there’s Khalil. As usual he drives with that scowl on his face, gripping the wheel like someones going to take it away from him. But he’s not angry like he usually is. He looks more drained and jaded. He’s had a lot of big news . To hear that the girl you risked trusting again betrayed you again and was also killed in the process is going to bring up major mixed feelings. Add in the crap Cameron pulled recently is just going to complicate those feelings. Cameron’s the next person I look at, sitting in one of the middle seats.  His face is coloured by a world of shame. I still can’t wrap my head around what happened with him and Declan and how it ended up with that kid's dead head on our lawn and Khalil finding out anyway. I still don’t completely understand all that or anything Declan has done or is doing, all I know is that Cameron is shell-shocked right now. Sitting next to Cameron in the middle is Lysandra. I hear she’s quite happy about Elena’s departure, yet somehow her relationship with Khalil hasn’t progressed since then. Maybe it's because I wasn’t paying much attention to her but I thought she was the least affected by recent events. But then I saw her shooting arrows at bushes late last night, so there’s definitely still something going on with her. On the other side of Cameron, sitting by the window seat is Isabelle. Not heard much from her recently either, I really need to check up on my girls more often. But again like Lysandra, I see her obsessively doing things at night, like writing in that notebook of hers over and over again, so there’s that. Next to Lysandra by the other window seat at the back is Michael. My now ex-boyfriend Michael. He’s the only one of us who looks less dejected and more outwardly angry. I bet he’s cussing the world inside his head. And I bet I’m part of the reason for it. But I still stand by my decision. Yes it was nice being with Michael and sometimes it felt like his presence was really helping me cope…but I have to be honest with myself. We might have been wonderful together but we were horrible for each other. It was only a matter of time before some crazier shit happened between us. 

Breaking up with Michael and not spending my time around him anymore gave me some time to think on my own. To clear my head. Or at least clear it as much as a head like mine can be cleared. It’s allowed me to take a step back and realise how tangled up we were all getting. We almost forgot the whole reason why we ran around doing this crazy shit - to get Dubois’ cure. To think if I hadn't stepped in, Khalil and Michael would’ve either killed Cameron or eachother. We have really lost control of it all. Only a few more days and the group would have torn each other apart. Hours even. But instead of tearing each other apart, we’re sulking quietly as we travel to finally go get that cure off of Dubois. Big improvements if you ask me. 

Khalil stops the car once we reach a wide sprawling neighbourhood of large tents, huts and teepees, sectioned off by metal gates and fences, sectioned off by dozens and dozens of armed guards surrounding the entire compound at the bottom of a mountain. Simple and drabby, yet intimidatingly impressive. Describes Dubois really.  

“Are we here?” asks Isabelle. 

“I believe so.” says Lysandra, peering at the guards. 

“So this is it?” grumbles Michael looking at the rows and rows of tents behind the gates. “Dubois’ base.” 

“It has to be,” says Khalil. “Let’s go.”

Khalil turns off the car, the first one of us to exit. As the group slowly seeps out of the vehicle, I see all their faces sour and worsen. Sure being on Dubois’ compound is probably scaring them a little, but I can’t believe they’re all this low energy considering what we’re about to do. 

“Cheer up guys!” I tell everyone. “We’re at the finish line now.”

I’m met with a group of vacant stares and unenthusiastic nods. I think that’s the best I’m going to get out of these guys. Now let’s get this over and done with. 

Dubois’ guards hound us as soon as we’re a few metres away from the compound's main gates. First they hound us with a million questions about what we’re doing here, what our purposes and intentions are and what business we have with the man. It takes longer than it should for us to explain that we’re here to pay for the cure and have no ill intentions towards him. Then after that they hound us for weapons and items. They double, triple, quadruple check us for any form of firearm and blade we may possibly have on our person. I’m the one who gets checked the most, because of how I apparently have a “suspicious” look on my face, but I think it's only because one of these handsy guards wanted to frisk me more. Also because I had two knives hidden in my socks as well, but whatever. Then, after an hour of some other spot check bullshit, we are finally allowed within the compound, but only towards a specific part. We’re escorted specifically towards this dark structure of winding tents and tunnels that take us through the compound at a much slower rate than if we were just allowed to walk through the camp normally on our own . My, these people really are thorough when it comes to security. Though I think you’d have to be when you’re Olivier Dubois. 

Soon enough though, we all end up where we’re supposed to be, at the very heart of the promised land. In Dubois’ main base. 

Our group is escorted into the main room in which the door is shut tightly behind us. Finally the six of us are face to face with the man himself. Dubois sits behind a wooden desk scattered with rifles, knives and random drawings and writings on pieces of weathered paper. He leans his crossed hands over all of these items . It’s weirdly cute, like we’re having a mock meeting with a play dictator in a makeshift war camp. Cute in an intimidating way. Dubois' cold eyes undress each and every one of us, as if he’s assessing which one of us might cause him the most trouble in here. But I don’t think any of us will. Because on either side of him are two sets of the biggest human guard dogs I have ever seen, cramped together, itching to attack one of us on his command. I can feel the group's collective impatience running out as Dubois continues to stare at us and do nothing. I think that he can sense it too, because just at the right time when the tension in the room is at its highest, he finally speaks. 

“So you’ve obtained the appropriate amount of money?” asks Dubois. 

“Yes.” Khalil answers bluntly. “We have.”

“Then give it to me.” Dubois orders calmly. 

Khalil slings a dirty weathered backup off of his shoulder. He unzips it to reveal the miniature chest which he put all the money back into. He opens up the chest to show off the money, then lifts it out of the bag to hand to Dubois. Khalil looks really reluctant as he places the chest on Dubois’ desk. He’s struggling to part ways with the money, I can see it in his eyes. I don’t blame him, I kind of feel the same way. Isabelle and Michael have the same looks in her eyes. Lysandra less so. Cameron’s not even looking at any of this at all, he’s fully spaced out. 

With the money planted on his desk, Dubois starts to sift through all of the cash. Once again, he takes his sweet time. He inspects every bill, takes hold of every coin and counts quietly and carefully underneath his breath. Michael groans with impatience only to be given a warning glare by one of the guards when he does so. I don’t think even Michael is brave enough to try that one, he’s got only one eye and everything. So Michael just rolls his eyes at him. 

Dubois counts the last few coins and bills in the chest. As he places the final penny to the side of his desk, he smiles with relief. 

“Finally.” Dubois sighs. “Someone finally did it…

“Did what?” asks Khalil. 

“Someone finally came with the required amount.” Dubois says. “You are officially the first and thus only current group, capable of collecting the cure. 

The six of us mellow out with sighs of relief of our own. A tidal wave of relaxation passes over the group. For once Khalil actually smiles. I rest my arm on him as the two of us beam at each other. Lysandra lets out a little squeal and hugs Isabelle. Isabelle not only smiles but lets Isabelle    hug her too. Even Michael can’t help but give a short round of applause to show his gratitude. If it wasn’t for the animosity between everyone we would be jumping up and down right now. But again I’ll take it. Once our quiet celebrations have finished we all focus back on Dubois. Maybe this is how he always looks, but there's a great intensity in his eyes, like he’s about to say something incredibly important. 

“I knew you would be the best of the bunch…” Dubois says with a smile. “The upper echelon.” 

“You did?” asks Khalil. 

“Yes…I did.” answers Dubois. “I have a way of sensing these things.”

Is it just me, or was that most ominous way he could have congratulated us?

“Can the best of the bunch have our fucking cure already then?” Michael asks snippily. 

“Michael!” Isabelle reprimands him, noticing the one eyed guard evil-eye us again. But although he was being quite rude, Dubois finds it funnier than disrespectful. 

“Of course.” chuckles Dubois, gesturing with a nod to his guards as he points to a low cabinet behind them. “To the winners go the spoils.”

One of Dubois’ guards follows his directions, crouching down to open a locked lower cabinet. After about a minute of tinkering whilst the other guards covered him, he opens it to reveal a cabinet full of blue vials of that wonderful good stuff we maimed other people and sometimes ourselves for - that graciously wonderful cure. You can practically hear the sounds of all of our eyes widening. The guard takes out the full cabinet and places it on Dubois’ desk. Dubois looks down at the cure and back up at us with a smile on his face. We must look quite the picture right now.

“Woah…” Khalil comments with a gulp. He looks around at the bog-eyed gazes of excitement of the rest of the group. When he lands back on me, I give him a wink and a smile. 

“Finish line…” I whisper with a chuckle. He nods his head without looking at me. 

 Dubois slowly picks out six out of the two dozen vials propped together in the metal box. He lays each six on the table out in front of us, then crosses his arms.

“Well…here you are-”

My impatience gets the better of me as I rush to the desk to swipe up one of the vials of cures from the table. I’m stopped just before I can grab one with one of Dubois’ guards blocking my path. With the guards blocking my path, Dubois starts to inspect the six vials he just put down for us. 

“Hey!” I complain. 

“What’s the matter?” Isabelle asks. 

“Wait a second…” Dubois mutters as he inspects one of the vials with one careful squinted eye. Out of nowhere he smashes the vial on the floor. 

“Is something wrong?” asks Khalil, very concerned. 

“Yes, there’s something wrong with that vial…and with this one.” Dubois comments as he casually smashes a second. He picks the rest of the remaining laid out vials and smashes them on the floor. “...and with these ones.”

“What’s happening?” Lysandra asks Khalil. Khalil gives her a ‘beats me’ shrug. Beats him, beats all of us. 

One by one, Dubois picks out vials from the metal box and smashes them on the floor until the box is nearly empty and the inner cracks of the wooden floors below are seeped with blue liquid. Alright, what the hell is going on here?

“Okay, what the fuck is going on here?!” Michael asks outrageously, as if he read my mind. 

“I apologise folks but…it seems all these vials are tainted.” Dubois tells us. 

“Tainted by what?!” asks Khalil. 

“Tainted by you setting your eyes on them…” Dubois states, his voice low as ever. He lowers his icy blue glare at us too and zones in. Again, what the hell is he talking about?!

“Sorry, what?” asks Khalil. “What do you mean?”

Dubois runs a rough hand through his beautifully silk hair, pulling it forward and slicking it back. He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath then opens them again. 

“I think it’s time I’m honest with you…” starts Dubois. He lets out the deepest sigh from his nose and rubs the top of his knuckles. The six of us look around at each other, confused, worried and slightly scared. Seriously, what the hell is going on? Dubois clears his throat to start another one of his menacing speeches.

“Death, destruction, disorder and chaos…all things that since the mist's first arrival have become so commonplace and natural that one does not even bat an eye at the suffering of their common-man. It’s…revolting, to say the least…when the first mist arrived, I found myself in a uniquely privileged position. From my travels and exploits I had just enough money to take precautions to protect myself, but not too much to make myself a target. This allowed me to build everything up over the past year or so to the point where I have all this, where I’m the most powerful man in the land today…and what type of man would I be, if I didn’t use my power to …correct things?”

What the fuck is he going on about?! Correct the land? How has anything he has ever done amounted to correcting the land? I look to the others to see if they have any idea. Not a clue amongst any of us. Guess we’ll just have to see where he is going with all of us this?

“During my race for the cure, how many other gangs of people have you robbed, killed or generally weakened in your efforts?” Dubois asks, looking at Khalil specifically. 

“I don’t know…dozens?” Khalil answers warily. 

“Dozens.” Dubois repeats with a slight smirk. “And how many gangs or groups of people  have you killed or weakened before I even announced my competition?”

Khalil does not answer this question. His face tenses and lowers into a glare. He doesn’t like wherever Dubois is going with this and to be honest, neither do I. Wherever that is. 

“Dozens more I assume…” Dubois answers for him as he adjusts himself in his seat. “So based on that information, combined with the fact that you were the first group to get me the five-thousand pounds…wouldn’t it be safe to say that your gang is the strongest of them all?”

“I guess…” Khalil answers again, warily. 

“Then you should understand exactly what’s happening here.”

“I’m not sure what you mean.” says Khalil. Me neither. I have the strange feeling something weird is about to happen here…

“I know exactly what he means…” says Isabelle. Does she? Really? Cause I’m lost. I think most of us are. The rest of us look to her for answers.

 “Dubois race for the cure was never designed with the intention of giving the winner the cure…all he wanted was to use this competition to get the stronger, more ambitious groups to kill each other so he can find the strongest group and  drive them out of the land. Once they are out, most if not all of the strongest groups are gone and he can control the land and take it in the direction he wants…”

“Correct.” Dubois confirms, nodding and pointing at Isabelle. “Clever woman...”

Isabelle looks to the floor and sighs. Lysandra’s face twists with more confusion. Cameron lifts his head up from his sulking sadness for the first time today. Michael  looks so angry he’s about to burst into flames. Khalil looks so angry that he’s lost any and all expression on his face.  

As for me? Well I’m just even more lost. I don’t even know

No. No no. There’s no way? We did all that? Went through all of this…for nothing!

“This better be some kind of fucking joke!” shouts Michael. 

“This is no joke sir…” Dubois mocks as he smirks. “...but I must say I do find it quite funny how perturbed

Suddenly, Khalil darts forward faster than my eyes can track him. Within the blink of an eye, he vaults towards Dubois’ desk, grabs a knife and is threatening to cut his throat as he lunges over the scattered table of items. It only takes Dubois’ guards quickly pointing their  guns at him to stop him still. If they had stalled for even a moment, Khalil would have opened up Dubois' throat and let the blood flow out along with his life force. But instead, now, Khalil leans over Dubois as the two make intense unwavering eye contact. They both have the same deranged unhinged villainous look in their eyes. 

“You are going to give us what we deserve…” growls Khalil quietly. “Give us the cure..now!”

“No.” Dubois answers, blunt and casual. You’d think a prick only an inch away from having his throat knifed open would be a little more worried. But not him. Khalil moves to cut Dubois but is met with a smash to the face from one of the guards' guns. He is knocked to the floor, dropping the knife with a new shiny bruise on his forehead. Lysandra

“There is one part of my plan the clever girl did not figure out.” Dubois says as she gestures to an irritated Isabelle. “The reason as to why I’m keeping you alive..even despite your leaders' theatrics.”

Dubois glances down at Khalil who is being slowly helped back up by Lysandra. 

“And what reason is that?” Cameron asks, his voice hoarse from how little he’s used it all of today. Dubois smiles at Cameron as he reclines down his seat more comfortably.

“In order for me to take control of the land, I’m going to need to keep the people occupied as I establish my control…” Dubois explains. “The land needs someone to rally against. And what better people to rally against than the people who came in here without the right amount of money and in spite, destroyed all my samples of the cure when I refused to give it to them?”

“What the fuck?!” I ask in protest. “Why would you do that?!”

“Why would you destroy the people of the land's only chance at getting the cure?” asks Dubois. 

“But we didn’t!” protests Lysandra. 

“They don’t know that.” says Dubois. “Especially if one tells them otherwise.”

“And what do you think we’re just going to let that happen?” asks Michael with gritted teeth. As if he was tempting fate, all of the guards hound upon us restraining our arms and dragging us out of the room one by one. 

“Get the hell off-” before I can finish my sentence a sweaty hand is tightly placed over my mouth as I’m dragged outside. 

Eventually the six of us are dragged kicking and biting out of Dubois’ tunnels and tents and outside of the compound. Dubois orders the guards to throw us to the ground to which we do. 

“It seems it’s too late for you to do anything about it.” Dubois laughs, answering Michael’s question from earlier. He points towards the sky to a large set of fireworks being set off in the distance. Our group looks over the horizon of where the fireworks emerged. From this distance you can vaguely see legions of people from around the land storming our way. Oh my Lord. He’s already told them. He…he’s actually doing this…

“So if I were you, I’d start running…” Dubois advises menacingly. And you didn't have to tell us twice. 

As we sprint back to  the car, I hear the growling screams of the deranged people getting closer. I can see Khalil, Isabelle, Michael, Lysandra, and Cameron ahead of me, their faces etched with fear. Since when were these guys so fast? Shit, I gotta make sure I keep up!

We reach the car and pile in without a second thought, Khalil diving behind the wheel. He starts the engine and floors it just as the first of the deranged people reaches us. I hear their fists rapidly pounding against the metal of the car as we drove away.

Lysandra and Cameron were huddled together in the backseat, both of them trembling in between Isabelle and Michael who shake a little too. You know it’s bad when they are rattled.

We're driving away, the wind whipping through my hair and the sound of the deranged people starting to fade. I'm starting to feel a sense of relief wash over me, thinking we've made it out alive. But suddenly, I hear a loud explosion and the top of the car is blown off. Our car shakes as we all look to the naked ceiling above us. 

"What the hell was that?!" Isabelle screams, her voice panging with annoyance and fear. The top of the car blowing off is not ideal, but atleast the debris hits into some of the crowd. 

“Shit! I don’t know!” Khalil panics. He tries to keep control of the car, but it's clear we're not going to make it very far. "We have to get out soon," he says, his voice tight with tension.

“Get out?! Now?!” Isabelle asks. 

“Well we can only stave them off for so long in this car.” Khalil tells her as he grinds the car to a halt. “We’ll stop the car only for a short while, get out a bunch of weapons so that we can shoot and dwindle some of them down as we travel . Alright?”

Within an instant, everyone is on board with the plan. Let me just say, thank God for Khalil. Who could have known having a gang leader so damn managerial could come in handy? Although maybe that’s why Dubois picked our group to carry out his little plan in the first place. Still, at least we know what to do clearly during such a shitheap of a situation. It’s about to get a whole lot more intense up in here. 

We all quickly scurry out of the car and direct ourselves to the boot weapons in hand. Michael, Cameron, Isabelle and I all retrieve our respective brand of gun and head back into the car. But then Lysandra surprises us all by pulling out a bow and arrow. 

“Are you serious?” Michael asks her as he looks the weapon up and down. Lysandra ignores him as we all get back into the car. 

With the time it took us to get back into the car the swarms of people sprinting at us guns blazing came closer unfortunately for us. But unfortunately for them, it means that as we drive away they are close enough for us to pick off. Michael and Isabelle shoot rifles back at the hoard from each side of the window seats. Cameron crouches down in his seat in the middle and lets off a few sniper rounds and I let it fly with pistol shots from the passenger's side. 

Even Lysandra does numbers with her bow and arrow. She's never been much of a fighter, but as she starts taking out the deranged people with precise shots. Fucking hell, someone’s being practising!

“Nice shots Lysandra.” Khalil comments as he looks back at her. 

Th-, thank you.” Lysandra mutters. 

Khalil  grips the steering wheel tightly, his hands red as he swerves and dodges the shots from the hoard of people chasing after us. Isabelle, Michael, Cameron, and I are doing our best to pick off the ones that get too close to the car. We're doing pretty well to deal with them, until a massive open top vehicle comes roaring out of the middle of the hoard. I recognize the driver immediately, it's Ryan McKeown. Ryan “The Revoluntioanry” Fucking McKeown. Of all the twats to lead the charge, it just had to be him. 

“Oh my God…” Lysandra gasps. 

“Khalil! Look who's come back to see us!” shouts Michael. Khalil

“McKeown…” Khalil grunts. 

I look at Ryan standing proudly in the middle-seat of the commie-mobile. He's got his sights set on Lysandra. His comrades on the other hand are focused on getting out their guns and shooting at us. And now they’re making dents in the car. Christ.  They're catching up to us quickly and I duck back down into the car. 

"We need to get rid of them!" I shout to the others gesturing at them to duck down. We all lower our heads as we try to avoid the McKeown group's oncoming car. With the rate at which they catch up to us, it's not going to be enough to avoid all their gunshots. 

Ryan McKeown's open-top monstrosity comes roaring out from the crowd, close enough for their car to kiss are cars ass like a shitty game of bumper cars. With our cars practically touching in the chase, McKeown does something I’d have never expected if it didn’t just happen. Like a mad cunt, he leaps out from his standing seat into the car and throws himself onto the back of our car, latching on to the back of our car. 

"You thought you could run from me, Lysandra?" he sneers. "Your family ruined this land, and now you're going to pay for it."

Ryan climbs himself into the backseat of the car, pushing Cameron and Isabelle to the side. Isabelle and Michael try to force him back out of the car to little avail. Ryan struggles and squirms as he sits himself up within the back of the car, clawing his hands at Lysandra. I pull out my gun and aim it at Ryan as he struggles within the backseat, but with all the shit 

Khalil's face contorts in anger, "You can go fuck off, McKeown!" he shouts back at him. But McKeown is too focused on trying to get at Lysandra. 

I see Michael getting punched in the face, Isabelle's knife getting taken away and Cameron getting kicked in the stomach. 

“Fuck!” Khalil exclaims as he swerves the car around. 

Despite Michael and Isabelle’s efforts, McKeown manages to get his hands on Lysandra’s. With murder in his eyes he’s about to beat her into submission until…he is struck through the eye with a broken arrow. But not from Isabelle, Michael or even from me. But from Lysandra herself! Brutally she pushes the arrow further into Ryan’s eye without further consideration. Bloody hell!

“My eye!” Ryan screams with intensity as he thrashes in the car. “You fucked my fucking eye, you Devon bitch-” 

Clearly Lysandra had heard enough, because without hesitation she pushes the blinded McKeown out of the car. McKeowns body tumbles out of the car and rolls underneath his groups causing them to swerve and crash all over the show. 

I watch in horror as McKeown's vehicle swerves into the rest of the oncoming hoard, causing a chain reaction of crashes and explosions. The hoard is thrown into chaos, and I can see bodies flying everywhere, engulfed in flames.

The car is shaking and the group is thrown around in the back seat, but Khalil keeps his cool and manages to keep the car steady and drive further from the fucked up scene. 

As the car continues to drive away, I can see the hoard losing ground, the explosions and crashes have dampened their efforts in chasing us. I can see in the rearview mirror that the hoard is now in disarray and scattered, with some of them being caught in the fire.

Holy shit that was something! But if there’s anyone I don’t feel bad about that happening to. It’s Ryan Goddamn Pain in the ass McKeown. 

The group is relieved but also injured from the struggle. They quickly tend to their wounds as Khalil continues to drive, trying to put as much distance between them and McKeown's group. Lysandra turns to the others

 "Are you all okay?" she asks. We all nod. We're all sitting in the car, trying to process what just happened. I can't help but feel a sense of pride for Lysandra, she took down McKeown like it was nothing. "Since when did you become so useful?" I say, trying to make a joke. But Lysandra doesn't respond, she just looks down, solemn and shell-shocked. I can see the others exchanging worried glances, they're all thinking the same thing.

“Jesus Lys…you fucking saved us there.” Khalil gasps in surprise. 

“Well done Lys.” Isabella sighs with relief. 

“Well fucking done!” Michael emphasises. “Jesus, that was something else.”

“Didn’t know you had it in you…” Cameron comments softly. “Good job.”

Lysandra nods, but she still looks distant and detached. Clearly she doesn’t feel the same sense of pride that we all do from what she did here. But at least we’re free from the hoard…or so I thought. The more we drive through the land, the more people start to follow us 

“Fuck! We need to lose them! Quick!” shouts Michael. 

“How the hell are we going to lose them?” asks Isabelle as she watches more people join the hoarded legion of people gunning for our heads.

“By running out of sight…” Khalil suggests. No clue what he’s on about but you know how it goes. Follow the lead of manager Khalil. If you want to live at least. 

We eventually come to an abandoned neighbourhood and decide to park the car behind a line of stone walls. As we pack our weapons and get out of the car, we start to run on foot, our eyes searching for the shittiest cluttered house we can find to dodge behind. So far so good, no Dubois hoard behind us.”

"We're so fucked! Fucked!" I can hear Michael muttering under his breath. 

"We’ll be fine, just need to find a place to hide," says Isabelle, her voice trembling. I don’t think even she believes her. 

We run through the neighbourhood, trying to stay low and avoid being seen.We come across a muddy backyard of one of the houses and decide to hide there. We all huddle together, trying to catch our breath. Just as we start to relax, we hear a voice from behind us. 

"Well look we we fucking have here!"

It's the last person either Khalil or Cameron would have liked to see. And to be honest,  We all freeze, as Declan O’Gallagher and what’s left of his crew point guns at us. 

“You can’t be serious…” Khalil grunts, his eyes bloodshot and his jaw tensed. Yep, this is not a good time for any of this. 

“And it seems that you and Cameron are still friends after my letter. Isn’t that interesting?” Declan laughs. Not a single person joins him in laughter. “How does it feel to be a traitor, Cameron? How does it feel to know that you're the reason that kid in the supermarket is dead?" 

Cameron is too depressed to defend himself, he just hangs his head in shame. Khalil is a different story. He steps forward, his face contorting in anger

 "What the hell happened to the strength of your forces, Declan?” Khalil responds. “Last time we saw you, you had an army at your disposal. Now look at you, reduced to a handful of thugs."

"Dubois might have kicked us all out for insubordination. But I don't care” Declan sneers. “Cause now that I'm out from underneath his foot, I can go back to what I’ve always wanted to do" 

I see the look in Declan’s dull blue eyes. It does not take a genius to tell you exactly what he means. 

Before anyone else can do anything, I unload fire on one of Declan's men, causing him to fall to the ground. Declan and the rest of his men go behind a scrap heap pile for cover whilst Khalil and the group go behind a stone wall. A gun fight begins.

Bullets are flying everywhere, and I can hear the sound of gunfire ringing in my ears. I can see Declan's men taking cover behind the scrap heap, and I can see Khalil and the group firing back from behind the stone wall. With our guns, and bows and arrows at the ready, our two groups are in another one of our gunfights, again started by yours truly. We're outnumbered and outgunned, but we're not going to give up without a fight.

The gunfight is intense and brutal, bullets flying everywhere as both groups exchange fire. I can hear the sound of gunfire ringing in my ears, and I can see the flash of muzzle fire in the darkness. The air is thick with the smell of gunpowder and the screams of the wounded.

I take cover behind a nearby car, using it for cover as I fire at Declan's men. I can see Isabelle and Michael doing the same, using whatever cover they can find as they fire back at the enemy. Lysandra is using her bow and arrow, picking off Declan's men one by one with deadly precision. 

Maybe Dubois had a point. Maybe he did need to take these drastic measures to “fix” the land. I mean look at this. Two years ago and what you would find in this backyard would probably be a kid and his grandparents enjoying their day in the sun, a nice and calming day. But now, it’s just two groups of horrendously desensitised and potentially sociopathic young adults, shooting each other up because of some personal beef between our emotionally damaged leaders. We’re all so fucked it’s not even funny. All that fighting for the cure just for things not to change. But hey, at least we’re winning this fight. 

Declan's men are falling one by one but the ones who don’t stop shooting our way. They're desperate, and they know that their only chance for survival is to take us out. But we're determined to survive, and we're not going to give up without a fight.

The gunfight continues for what feels like an eternity, until finally, there's only Declan left. 

“Shit…” Declan exclaims as he loads his gun. Before he can, Khalil jumps out, tackling Declan to the ground. 

Michael loads his gun and aims it at Declan. I put my hand out to stop him, lowering the rifle. 

“Don’t.” I tell him. 

“Why?” asks Michael. 

“Because they need to end this between each other, by each other's hands.” Isabelle answers . I nod at her in confirmation. That’s exactly why. Let this end right here. 

 

The rest of us watch on as Khalil struggles to pin Declan down to the floor. 

“You are the last person I want to be dealing with right now…” grunts Khalil as the two struggle on the floor. “Why must you always torment me! Why can’t you just die!”

“You’re the one who has always tormented me! This all started because of you. You and your brother and what you did to Ciara!”

“I had nothing to do with that,Declan! How many times” 

“Bullshit!”

“Fine, don't believe me!” grunts Khalil. “It doesn’t matter who was at fault for starting it. Because right now? One of us is going to be at fault for finishing it!”

Khalil stands up as he drags Declan up on his feet and punches him in the face. Declan is more than happy to punch him back. 

The gunfight may be over, but the tension is still high as Declan charges towards the group, his eyes filled with hatred and rage. Khalil is quick to react, he jumps out from behind the stone wall and tackles Declan to the ground. The two of them engage in a brutal hand-to-hand fight, exchanging punches and kicks.

They roll around on the ground, each trying to gain the upper hand. Declan lands a punch to Khalil's face, causing him to stumble back. But Khalil quickly regains his footing and retaliates with a punch of his own, connecting with Declan's jaw.

Declan retaliates by grabbing a rock and hitting Khalil on the head with it, but Khalil manages to deflect it and grabs Declan's arm, twisting it behind his back. Declan lets out a cry of pain as he's forced to the ground.

Khalil's face is contorted in anger as he delivers a series of punches to Declan's face and chest. Declan is dazed and struggling to defend himself. But he manages to land a punch to Khalil's stomach, causing him to double over in pain.

Declan takes the opportunity to get back to his feet, but Khalil is quick to follow. The two of them continue to exchange rocking punch after rocking punch. 

The fight is brutal and violent, and it's clear that both men are evenly matched. They're both covered in cuts and bruises, and their breathing is laboured. But in the end, it's Khalil who emerges victorious, delivering the final blow that ends the fight. He stands over Declan's motionless body, panting and covered in sweat and blood.

Just as Declan is about to deliver the final blow, Cameron musters up the strength to intervene, tackling Declan and providing an opening for Khalil to strike. Together, they overpower Declan, and Khalil delivers the final blow, ending the fight.

“Fuck…” Khalil pants as he looks back to Cameron. 

“Fuck…” Cameron repeats solemnly. 

We all stand there, panting and covered in sweat and blood. We all look at each other, relieved that we're alive but well aware that we’re not out of the woods yet. At least, most of us are aware. Khalil still looks like he’s in an entirely different world. He’s still looking down at Declan

Khalil loses control and beats Declan's unconscious body some more with intense violent hatred. The rest of us look at him, unsure as to whether we should step in and do something. 

"Khalil, come on, let's go already. " I tell, but he's not listening. His eyes are filled with anger and hatred, and I can see the adrenaline pumping through his veins.

As I stand there, catching my breath after the intense gunfight, I can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction knowing that Declan and his men won't be hurting anyone else. But that satisfaction quickly turns to horror as I see Khalil losing control and disrespecting Declan's unconscious body on the ground. 

"Khalil, come on man!" I yell, but he's not listening. His eyes are filled with anger and hatred, and I can see the adrenaline pumping through his veins.

Just as I'm about to intervene, I hear a loud noise from the distance. I freeze, realising that the herd that was chasing us has finally found us. Panic sets in as I realise that we're out of time. I can see that anxious look return to Isabelle's face, and Michael's hands are shaking as he tries to reload his gun. I think our friends from Dubois have found us again…

Suddenly, the hoard enters the neighbourhood in droves, shooting at us in the backyard way as they charge towards the house. Most of the shots aren’t enough to cause us any worry…except for the ones that shoot Lysandra, hitting her in the hand and leg. I hear her scream in pain as she crumples to the ground and then Khalil screams of horror as she lies there. Fuck! Of all the things that could possibly happen!

“NO!” Khalil shouts as he crouches down to her. 

“Shit, shit, shit, shit!” panics Cameron. Yeah, shit. 

“Relax, relax, let’s not get in our heads.” Isabelle tells us with a rasp in her voice. Easier said than done though isn’t it? As the rest of us fret over Lysandra, Isabelle opens one of the bags of weapons we took out of the car and rifles around for spare bangade paper. 

She quickly finds it and starts to tie a tourniquet around Lysandra's hand and leg, but it's not done perfectly. Lysandra is in great pain and I can see the fear in her eyes.

Khalil grabs a hurting Lysandra and puts her on his back.

 "Right, we have to go, now!" He screams. The group all collectively run as the hoard starts to breach the cluttered mess of a backyard. The six of us flee behind the scrap heap of the backyard beyond the neighbourhood and into the woods. When in doubt, go into the forests. 

I feel my heart pounding as we run through the thick forest, the sound of the hoard getting closer and closer. It’s like the faster we run, the more effort they put into goddamn keeping up. I can hear the sound of gunshots whizzing past us, only just avoiding lodging themselves into our legs and backs. My legs are burning, and my lungs are on fire, but I know I have to keep going. We're running for our lives, not looking back. They’re not close enough to get a clean shot or to catch us yet but they’re close enough for that to be a possibility very very soon. So they're still  too close and only getting closer. The group is exhausted, and we're running out of options.That's when Cameron of all people decides to perk up..

 "I have an idea.” Cameron pants as he runs. “I'll distract them, lead them down another part of the forest while you guys run towards a dark, deep area of the forest."

I’ll tell you one thing, I don’t like the sound of that. Maybe if Elena was still alive we could have her do it, but I don’t feel good about anyone in the group splitting away from us. 

“What?!” asks Isabelle in confusion. 

“In a second, I’m going to pretend to stumble over, then when they’re closer to me, I’ll run away in a different direction.” Cameron explains. “That should distract them long enough for you guys to create more distance!”

"Cameron, no!” I tell him. 

“That’s too dangerous!" Khalil says, his voice filled with concern. My thoughts exactly. 

"I want to do something to help the group for once!” Cameron shouts with a passion. “I feel bad for betraying you all…this is the only way to make up for it now." 

"Cameron, you don’t have to do this!" Isabelle warns him. 

“She’s right you don’t!” adds Khalil. 

“Cameron don’t…” mutters Lysandra tiredly, struggling to keep the strength to cling onto Khalil’s back. Every member of the group is against his idea, even Michael looks like he doesn’t want him to do it. And that’s saying something. 

“I’m gonna do it.” says Cameron, serious as ever. 

“Cameron, don’t!”  I plead, my voice shaking with emotion. “Come on, we forgive you, we’ll think of a way to escape this together. Okay?”

But Cameron isn’t budging, not one bit. "Grace, I know this is hard, but it's the only way. I'll be fine, I promise." He turns to the group and says his goodbyes, "I'm sorry, I should have done better. But please, go now. I'll lead them away."

“Cameron…”

“I’m doing it Khalil.” Cameron insists before Khalil can even finish his pleas. “I’m doing it.

Before anyone can stop him, Cameron stumbles over on his own two feet on purpose. The rest of us look back as we keep on running to see Cameron crouching on the floor and waiting for the hoard to come his way. When the hoard comes close enough to shoot at him, Cameron unleashes a hidden pistol from the back of his pants. He shoots down a few of the hoard then runs towards another part of the forest as they chase him in anger. As Cameron distracts the people, we run towards that dark, deep area of the forest he wanted us to visit oh so much. 

“Damn, he actually did it…” Michael laments. 

“Yeah…” Khalil sighs. “He did…”

As we run, I can't help but think about Cameron. My heart aches with sadness and guilt, knowing that he's sacrificing himself for us. I can only hope that he'll be okay, that he'll make it out alive. 

“You think he’s going to be okay?” asks Lysandra weakly. No one has an answer for her. 

With the sound of the herd fades into the distance, I know that we can’t be sure what’s going to happen to him. I can only pray that he'll be safe wherever he is.

Following Cameron’s distraction, the herd is nowhere near us now. But no one stops running, as if we all know better than to take our chances. We just keep trudging forward.   As I continue to run I can’t help but morbidly laugh. It grants me a few weird looks from the others, but I can’t help but laugh even harder. We should have seen this coming from the start. 

Dubois has fucked us…royally fucked us…