Harper follows me, sitting down beside me. He grasps my hand in his, and I lay my head on his shoulder, closing my eyes to fight off the oncoming tears.
"For what it's worth," he whispers, so quietly that I have to strain my ears to hear him. "I think you were amazing out there. I've never seen anyone do what you did when faced with certain death."
I say nothing as a single drop rolls down my cheek and hits the mattress with a dull thud.
---
I wake with a start. My head is pounding with every beat of my heart, and my face is wet with tears. My mouth fills with the coppery tang of blood when my tongue hits the inside of my cheek, and I must have bitten in in my sleep, I realise. Not an uncommon thing.
With a sigh, I turn my head so that I can see the outside of the warehouse. It's still dark outside, but even without my jacket covering me I'm plenty warm enough, even with the cool sheen of sweat covering me from my nightmare.
It's a funny word, nightmare. Normally, when people use it, they refer to a bad dream, or to a bad situation in their waking hours. But for me, they feel like they're real. For me, I have nightmares when I'm awake, when I'm asleep, when I'm somewhere in between or somewhere else entirely. I live through them when my eyes are closed and then again, within hours, when they open again. And it terrifies me more than anything else can, because so often when I dream them, they become real.
And I hate it.
I check the time on my phone, being careful not to let its light shine anywhere that it might be seen. 3:37.
This, however, is not normal. Waking up because of a bad dream is, yes, but not at this hour. But because of every other experience I've had with this before, I know that I'm not going to be able to sleep again, so I roll off the mattress, being careful not to disturb Harper, and grab my bag as I slip out of the warehouse and into the darkness of the streets.
It's much quieter out here, and cooler, too. I didn't realise that with so many other bodies in proximity that I would be warmer at night, or even during the day. I guess it makes sense to hand together, particularly with winter just around the corner. Winter means less people out on the streets, because they know that it's when those of us who live out here are most desperate to rob them in order to get money, and the security on the greenhouses begins to pick up.
Wait - the greenhouses. The extra security. The way we were gunned down like it was nothing at all, no effort on their behalf... it was because it truly was no effort. It was because we're moving into winter, so the security increases to deter people like us from going in, particularly at night.
Then an idea hits me.
---
"Have you lost your mind?" Harper almost yells at me, and I flinch back from him. He doesn't react to this. "Really, were you even there last night? At all?"
"Of course I was there!" I snap, my vision turning red at the edges. "It's not the first time something like that has happened either, Harper, and I'll thank you for remembering that!"
"What do you mean, that's not the first time?" Harper asks, obviously confused. "Last time I checked-"
"I'd been living on the streets for a hell of a lot longer than you!" I snarl. "I was three, Harper - three years old, and I watched from my treehouse as my parents were killed in front of me! And I've been on the run ever since - that's why they had me locked up, because they've been looking for me, hell they still are! That's why I don't run with anyone else, because I just get them killed!" I'm crying now but I don't care, I just swipe at my eyes angrily with the back of my hand. "I was ten on the first run I went on. I was the only one who got back alive because I was a coward and ran. I couldn't stay there with them and face what I'd done so I left. The next one, I was fourteen. I'd been running with this group for a few months and one guy became like a brother to me. We knew each other better than we knew ourselves and I couldn't hold him together, I couldn't save him and he's dead because of me and I couldn't-"
"Hey, hey, relax, I'm-" Harper starts. I cut him off.
"Don't you dare say you're sorry, Harper, because you have no idea, no clue, what I've been through!" I stand up, hitching my bag over my shoulder. "If you know what's good for you, you won't follow me."
As I walk out of the warehouse, people have the sense to get out of my way. Maybe it's the murderous expression on my face, or maybe it's what they just heard me yelling at Harper, but I don't care and just keep walking. I don't pay any attention to where I'm heading once I'm out of the place, either, I just keep walking and I wind up at the building where Harper gave me the bag. My bag.
I move to sit on the rubble there but decide I can be too easily seen there, so I make my way up the rickety stairs and up to the top floor. My legs are burning and my chest heaving when I get there, breathing in shallow gasps, but the pain helps, grounding me.
And as I get my bearings, I realise that I'm not alone.
Three pairs of eyes land on me, and they don't leave me. One in particular sticks out from the rest, a grey that is so dark that it looks almost black, and cold, so cold, and empty of any emotion. I feel goosebumps rise on my skin and the hairs on the back of my neck prickle as the eyes move up and down my body. I shove down the urge to shudder as the owner of the eyes stands and moves towards me.
On instinct, my hand moves to my hip, where my blade is concealed. I know how dangerous it is in my hands, and I know I can take down someone even Thunder's size with it, but I've never tried my hand against more than one attacker.
Looks like that's about to change.
"Now, what's a pretty little thing like you doing here?" The person says. I suck in a deep breath, sterling my nerves, before I speak.
"I had to get away," I say flatly, making sure my voice is devoid of emotion. "From them." I add with a snarl.
"What happened?" The man asks, seemingly more interested now. I debate for a second before deciding to tell him.
"I got blamed for... something, and I was about to rip someone's head off so I left." I say simply.
"Would that something happen to be robbing the greenhouses?" The man asks eagerly.
This perks my interests. Maybe they know a better way of going about it.
"You know how to get in there?" I ask, not bothering with the act anymore. The man smiles at me, although it doesn't look like a smile so much as resembling one, what with a half dozen teeth missing. The ones that are there are a dark yellow. An unpleasant sense of déjà vu washes over me, and again I try not to shudder.
"Indeed I do, young lady, but that information's going to cost you." He says, his eyes moving up and down my body again. This time I don't bother hiding my shiver, but I instead act ignorant. Steeling myself for the upteenth time today, I say the last thing I thought I'd ever have to say.
"What do you want me to do?"
---
I'm able to slip past everyone at the warehouse and into the showers. Thankfully I had the foresight to pack a change of clothes into my bag before I left earlier, so I don't have to try and make it through the warehouse undetected.
I take ages in the shower, rinsing away the dirtiness I feel from that man, the one who agreed to help me if I did one thing for him. But it lingers in my eyes, my throat, my pores, and I scrub until my skin can't take it anymore. Wishing I could clean my mind as well and trying my best to ignore the throbbing stabs of pain that seem to radiate throughout my entire body (he wasn't gentle with me at all) I turn off the hot spray and dress in an outfit that is only slightly different from the one I had on before.
Hoping that no one will notice the difference, I leave the showers and head back over to the warehouse. Upon entering it, I see Charmaine talking to Thunder with an urgent expression on her face, Thunder looking thoughtful. I also spot Harper looking frantically around the warehouse, darting around people and dodging and weaving between them.
"Chlo!" I hear him calling me. But I'm still mad at him so I don't respond, just head over to the mattress I've all but claimed at this point and, relieved that there's no one there, I sit on it facing the outside wall, hoping no one notices me. I stay there, unmoving, until someone knocks on the warehouse door.
I'm on my feet within a second, my hand moving to my hip and pulling my blade free. My feet spaced apart, my eyes dart around the warehouse, watching for any signs of movement or danger, my ears straining for any sound other than the roaring of my racing heart.
Thunder moves towards the door, flanked by two other people that look very similar in build to him. I watch, frozen, as he opens it just a crack, peering out through it to the outside. To me, this seems like a tactical mistake - if it were the authorities looking for people like us, he'd have just given away our position.
I decide to watch him a lot more closely, and see if I can't move up the ranks of this little community-thing he has going for him, one that he seems to be running.
By now, the entire warehouse has fallen silent, and everyone is watching Thunder intently as he converses with someone outside the door, someone outside my view.
"Can I help you?" Thunder asks, well, thunders would be a better word, drawn up to his full height. Even from where I stand, on the other side of the warehouse, he makes a terrifying figure, standing there, shrouded in shadow and flanked by his companions. Whoever is on the other side of the door must be pretty scared right about now, I think, but I decide never to voice that thought aloud to anyone.
"Yes, we had a discussion with one of your people earlier today," an unfortunately familiar voice answers, and I fight back a shiver in response. "She wouldn't say her name, only where to find her."
"Regarding what, may I ask?" Thunder asks in his booming voice.
"Regarding robberies of the local greenhouses. I assume you know which ones I mean?" The man's voice answers coolly, apparently undeterred by Thunder at all.
"Yes," Thunder answers gruffly. "What else did your discussion entail?"
"A deal, brokered between me and this individual - one that has ensured that you will receive valuable information on how best to go about getting food out of there." The man responds in the same tone as before. I breathe out a sigh of relief when he doesn't mention a name, or gender, or even what the exchange on my behalf was. At the memory of what I had to do to get that information, I shudder, unable to fight it this time.
Thunder pauses, and in my minds eye I see the thoughtful expression he had worn when I saw Charmaine talking to him earlier. "Have you got this information with you?" He asks, less aggressive now. A surge of anger rushes through me for him letting down his guard so easily - for a man of his size, he should really be more prepared than he is.
"I do," The man says, and then my heart stops when he continues. "But I will only give it to the one who I brokered the deal with. Then it's up to her as to what she does with it."
"Her?" Thunder asks, a deep undertone in his voice which I take as a danger sign. "Who was it?"
"A pretty young one, Chloe I believe she said her name was."
I feel myself go pale and my limbs suddenly feel weak. Panic surges through me and my knees begin to shake as badly as my hands and why, why, why didn't I get the information before I left, why?
Cursing myself for the oversight, I tuck my blade up my sleeve where I can easily pull it out if things turn nasty and walk over to the door. Thunder turns around when he hears my footsteps and I meet his eyes with a glare that holds more hostility than I feel right about now. I slip between him and the door and hold out my hand to the man who promised me the information. In it, he places a piece of paper.
"Use it wisely, missy," he tells me before releasing it completely. Not trusting my voice, I just nod at him. As he turns to leave, I move back towards the mattress at the back of the warehouse before anyone can stop me and tuck the paper in my bag without reading it. As I'm zipping it up, a sudden presence in my blind spot makes me spin around, a knife in my hand again and against the throat of the person. When I recognise Harper, I release him, putting away the knife but I don't apologise.
"What happened, where did you go?" He asks me.
"You happened, Harper!" I snap. "And it doesn't matter where I went-"
"What did you promise him? What did you do?" He practically yells, his hands on my shoulders as he roughly shakes me. I very carefully do not react to his movements, locking my limbs in place by my sides as every instinct screams for me to incapacitate him and run.
I breathe deeply and, moving swiftly, twisting my body so that his hands fall from my shoulders and I'm closer to the door, I answer him.
"I promised to help him with his... man problems, and the deal was already done. It's over, behind me. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to decide what I want to do with he information - do what you want, and try not to give me any more incentive to keep it to myself." I say with an anger I don't feel, before turning on my heel and storming out of the warehouse again.
An early update, I know - I'm going to be updating as often as I can during the next couple of weeks until school goes back. They won't be daily, but they'll be more frequent than usual. Vote and comment! Xx