viii. goodnight

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Silas was not conscious when we reached him.

He laid curled up in what seemed to be a cargo box, his chest rising and falling ever so slowly, his body covered in a blanket that came from who knows where. I'd learned not to question how Oliver always found the things he did.

Upon seeing him, I shot a look at Oliver, who shrugged smugly.

"He was in shock and asking too many questions. I got annoyed and thought he could use a nap."

Maya and I shared a look and then looked back at him, eyebrows raised.

Oliver threw his head back in exasperation, rolling his eyes. "He's fine."

We were silenced by movement in the cargo box. Slowly, Silas sat up, rubbing his head full of curls with one hand, and the other on the bruise that was starting to form on his cheek. He wrapped the blanket tighter around himself, his wet clothes not fully dried.

His eyes widened when he saw us, and his breathing halted for a few seconds. He frantically searched our surroundings, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of this nose. We were in the middle of the loading area, not another human in sight for miles.

"Where am I? What did you do to me? Who are you people?"

Question after question rolled off his tongue as he struggled to step out of the box, his poor coordination amusing.

This time, Maya stepped close to him, her small frame unbelievably menacing. She narrowed her eyes, her lips set in a straight line.

"Ask another question and we'll leave you here to die."

Silas pursed his lips, falling silent. He opened his mouth to say something, but decided against it. He repeatedly tried to meet my gaze but I avoided him.

The truth was that I was frustrated. Now, he was caught in this mess with us. To leave him alone and let him return to his old life would mean letting him walk right into danger. And by keeping him around, he was in danger anyway. Our company wasn't exactly ideal. 

Maya and Oliver pointed out that it was best for the two of them to part from us at the dock. They had to clean up the scene as well as prepare for the days that we had ahead of us. It wasn't smart for the three of us to be together all the time. We were both stronger and more vulnerable that way.

"We'll see if we can get in touch with any of the others..." Maya had said, her voice full of hope. "Maybe there are some agents hiding, just like us."

Oliver nodded along, taking her hand in his. "We'll be in touch. Stay out of trouble, you two." He winked at the two of us, flashing a quick smile, before they went off into the night. My heart dropped a bit. Nothing was ever for certain in our lives. And I just prayed that I would see them again.  

It was when we arrived at the apartment I'd been hiding in that Silas decided it was safe to speak. 

"Where are we? I need to go home."

His tired voice trailed off when he realized that what he was saying was of no significance. I could see it in his mortified expression: he knew that his life would never be the same.

Undoing my seat-belt, I opened my door, unsure where to even begin explaining the situation to him.

"It's not safe for you to go back home tonight."

I stepped out of the stolen vehicle, making my way into the old apartment complex. A car door closed behind me and I heard Silas's feet hitting the ground as he chased me down the sidewalk.

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