This Is Not The End.

Chapter 29

I finished my training sooner than I wanted mainly because I was bored. Throwing my knife at an awkwardly drawn target and then getting close to slash at it was not helping me get better at using it. When it came down to it, I turned out to be a natural, so I decided that was all I needed, and headed back to my tent.

As long as I was still breathing at the end of the day, I was good.

When I got back to my bed, I found myself collapsing on it and squeezing my eyes shut, not quite sleeping but wishing I were. All I really wanted was a dream; some sort of memory about my family, my mother and sister, just something to bring them back. It had been too long since I'd even pictured them, and I didn't want to think of the days when I couldn't even imagine their faces.

Elena was blonde. I reminded myself that any time I could. She had fairer hair than any of us combined, but on some days you could see her dark roots coming through. Sometimes, Cara reminded me of her – carefree and young – but that only made me feel worse about everything. Cara had already outlived my sister by a good four years, and I spent most my time begging for her to get just a little bit more, anything more. She could have my years if I could give them.

I don't know how long I laid there, staring at the canvas ceiling as I listened to everyone else head to bed. I knew Kai and Jack went into their tent when Kai punched my tent and Jack shushed him, saying I might be sleeping. Kai shot back a laugh and shouted goodnight to me, which I didn't return.

The moon soon hit my tent and I pictured it, trying to get something to fall asleep to, but when I finally felt myself drift into unconsciousness, I shot back up at the sight of Cara standing over me.

"Jesus, Mary, and all of the fucking lambs!" I shouted at her, my fingers curled around the hilt of my knife, before relaxing when I realised it was her, "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Beck said it would be better if I came and get you instead of him," she said, fiddling with the zip on a dark coloured fleece she had balled up in her arms.

"Why did you have to come and get me, anyway?" I pushed the knife deep under my pillow, so she didn't see it, and sat up, running a hand through my knotted hair to calm myself down.

"Because you've got training," she said, "He said you should wear this because it's cold,"

"Alright." I took it from her and slipped it over my head, finding a pair of jeans from earlier and pulling them on too. "Let's get this over with, shall we?"

She nodded and lead me out of my tent. When she had her back turned to me, I slipped my knife into my belt just in case. I knew how Beck's training sessions seemed to go, and it wouldn't shock me if I needed to use it.

The compound at night felt like a graveyard. I saw a couple of people wandering around with their own armouries attached to their bodies, and to my surprise, Cara seemed unfazed, but none of them paid us any attention.

Where Cara had tied her hair up, I saw the small mark on the back of her neck from SWORD. Her's looked more like a scar than I thought mine did – a three-line triangle. When I reached to feel mine, it felt more like it was shaded in. For the life of me, I couldn't think of when I got it, but there was a reason I slept with a knife.

"C'mon," she shot a look at me over her shoulder and headed towards one of the few guard towers, ducking through a small window and holding it open for me. Instead of glass, there was a wicker door which I had to clamber through, careful not to make too much noise. The front of the tower was two layers of brick, but where they were running out they'd made the bit in the compound out of wood. I just hoped it would hold.