Blacklight S2 (R)

[Ange Keating]

{name:Elijah #|#picture:17}

After five or so minutes of circling the small town, they were able to find a stuffy canary-yellow building with two small floors and a broken latch on the front door. For a moment Elijah had thought the place was deserted, but after being the first one to push open the deteriorating entrance, he was greeted by a surprisingly quaint interior. Even though the wallpaper was peeling, neat pictures of nature photography plagued the walls, a plethora of wildly-patterned rugs sitting underneath tables and chairs. A middle-aged woman greeted them, her brunette curls locked back in a French twist as her big, green eyes blinked at them in surprise.

“How much would three rooms cost for the night?” Elijah inquired, leaning over the desk. His eyebrows briefly shot up at the impending bump at the center of the woman’s stomach, a baby growing beneath.
She opened her lips to speak before shutting it rapidly. “Luther! Luther, we have guests!” she exclaimed, twisting her body while placing a doting hand to her womb.
A tall man that could’ve beat Elijah by a half an inch dashed in through the back archway, his body firmly built, muscles pulsating underneath a rolled-up flannel. His hair was shaven to a buzz cut, beady brown eyes instantly warming at the new guests.
“They want to know how much it costs for the night,” she continued, as if they weren’t standing right there.
“I’ll give y’all a discount; forty five. We don’t get much attention in ol’ Venus Hill so it’ll be our pleasure.”

Beth smiled warmly, pushing back a tendril of brunette hair behind her ear. “That’s much appreciated. Thank you.”
They all managed to mumble their gratitude before the stocky man was leading them up the narrow staircase, the floorboard creaking underneath their weight.
“Wait!” Rylee exclaimed once they had reached the second floor, holding approximately eight rooms in total. “There’s three rooms and five of us…”
Elijah let out a tiny sigh, “Well shit! I had no idea!” Stupefied, he shook his head before adding, “Dibs on me and Emma sharing a room.”
"Damn, and here I was hoping to share with Ethan..." Emma mumbled, rolling her eyes.

Ethan smirked, “Of course I don’t mind that. I could rock your—“ Elijah interrupted him by snatching his shirt with so much force it managed to jerk him against the thin walls. He instantly lifted his hands in surrender, lips curling into a frown. “This is designer. Chill out!”
Backing away from him, he directed his eyes towards Emma. “What’s up with you?” His tone came off a lot more irritated than he had intended it to (which he partially blamed on the late hour), her eyes instantly narrowing.

The group seemed to simultaneously form little O’s with their mouths before backing away from the rising tension, right at the peak of its explosion.

“You two could have that room. Key’s under the mat,” the hotel owner advised before quickly with the rest of the group, leaving Elijah and Emma in front of the dark, burgundy door.
"What's up with me? Oh. I don't know. I just love hearing about how every woman on the planet wants you. It's so comforting."
So that was what she was upset about? Elijah almost felt like laughing, but clenched his lips together. Emma stooped down to grab the slender card underneath the mat before sliding it across the hover pad and thrusting the door open.

“I was joking!” he exclaimed before stopping to ponder the idea, “well mostly, but that’s beside the point. You know how I am, Emma. That part of me hasn’t changed.”
She tugged off her shirt, a nude-colored bra underneath. “And you know how those types of jokes bother me, but you still continue to use them!”

“Will you stop being so insecure?” Elijah undid the buckle to his jeans, letting out a sharp intake of air. “I love you, and only you, so even if every fucking girl in the world wanted me, it wouldn’t matter.”

[/blockquote][/size]

[laura]

{name:Emma#|#picture:18}

”Wouldn’t it?” Emma grounded out, her irritation growing. “You looked as though you enjoyed distracting that receptionist a little too much.”
It was about being insecure, oh no, it was about to unnerving jolt of jealousy she felt. Since when had she ever been jealous of anyone? It wasn’t something Emma had felt before Elijah; now it came and went as easy as the tide. It left her feeling unravelled and uncomfortable.
"Of course I had to look like it if I had any intention of getting the file! You're being ridiculous."
“And you’re being a prick!” She retorted, tugging her trousers down her legs. “You say I’m being ridiculous; well, what about you? You nearly put Ethan through the wall just then!”
"I'm sorry, but since when is me showing that I care about you a bad thing?" He argued back. "I'm not gonna let some idiot come onto my girl and sit there like I don't give a shit."
“Just like I don’t like watching women fawn all over you or listening to how much you enjoy them doing it.” Emma dropped onto the bed, the pine creaking beneath her weight. “I get… jealous, okay? I can’t fucking help myself. I wish I didn’t give a shit about you and other women, but I do.”

Elijah's eyes softened as he closed the gap between them, crawling onto the bed beside her, arms wrapping around her waist. "You're the one, Em. No one else matters."

His words banished all traces of her ugly jealousy. It was hard to stay angry with someone when he referred to you as the ‘the one’.
Their foreheads met, blue locking with hazel as they huddled together beneath the thin comforter. The bed was hardly like the one back in their apartment, or even the one at base, with a lumpy mattress and rock hard pillows, but it was somewhere to sleep and anything was better than the car.

A hint of a smile tugged at her lips when he brushed a kiss to the corner of mouth, distinguishing what was left of her rage.
“I’m still angry with you,” Emma murmured, fighting back her growing smile.
His lips journeyed along her jaw, a blanket of goosebumps breaking out along her skin. She shivered, unsure of whether it was from the cold or Elijah’s coaxing kisses.
“I mean it.”
Emma felt his grin against her neck. He didn’t believe her, no matter how hard she tried to half-heartedly make her point.

The bed squeaked in objection when Elijah shifted, his large frame moving over her, the flimsy wood squeaking with every move her made.
“Elijah…” Her fingers tunnelled through his hair with every intention to pull him away, but he only took it as an encouragement, his lips moving up to meet hers in an all consuming embrace. It pushed all her reservations out the window, cares for where they were or who was around them forgotten.

They wiggled out of what was left of their clothes, the squeak growing louder, the wood crying in protest.
The arguing was always worth it when the make-up was this sweet.
Elijah rose up onto his elbows as he positioned himself between her thighs, his breathing as rough and raged as her own, his heart beat thundering against her bare chest. They each muffled a groan into their kiss when he pushed forward.
Lost in the deep, blissful union, each and every rock of his hips sent Emma down further, her every thought centred on the man she loved and less on the creaking bed posts.

It wasn’t until an ear shattering snap sounded that either of them realised what was going to happen. The combined movement of them both was clearly too much for the old and rickety piece of furniture, the legs nearest the headboard giving out completely and sending the whole frame down on one side.
Emma let out an unexpected cry as it landed, her head slamming up against the wall with the force of the drop.

Being as close as she was to the wall, she could have sworn she heard Beth beyond it shouting. “Are you kidding me?! They broke the fucking bed?!”

[/blockquote][/font]

[Ange Keating]

{name:Elijah #|#picture:17}

Elijah rolled his taut neck the next morning, fingers gripping the wheel as Emma slid in next to him. Ethan slammed the door behind him, muttering about the fee he had to pay for the broken bed, Beth and Rylee reviewing the file quietly. The sun peaked above the tight-knit building, casting the early lights of dawn across the asphalt.

“He’s nearing eighty,” Beth mused, flipping over a page idly. “Naturally, every bit of information on Glenn O’ Hare mysteriously vanished after the year 2230, the end of Hoffman’s rule.”
“So we’re only basing our facts off of the word of an insane old guy and a few pieces of paper that are practically inconclusive,” Ethan mused, settling into the plush upholstery. “Perfect.”
“And this,” Elijah added, lifting the tiny chip from his pocket as it glittered in the dim light. “May not be much, but if one our technicians can crack one of these babies, maybe we could safely remove the chips and get some real information.”

Emma grimaced, shaking her head in disapproval. “Not likely the people here will be of further use to us. We gotta give Hoffman’s intelligence some credit; the chips are probably slowly eating away at all of their memories turning them into deteriorating vegetables. And if his rule was more than twenty years ago, the chances of them having any recollection of the previous events in Venus Hill are slim to none.”
“Damn,” Elijah sighed, shooting out onto the interstate. “And there’s no way to reverse the process?”
“None that technology has developed yet,” she replied, occasionally rolling out her shoulders.

He couldn’t help but smirk, albeit quickly, before focusing on the road.

“What’s next?” Ethan questioned. “I mean, we’ve basically received information that didn’t take a braniac to realize in the first place!”
“Not quite,” Elijah murmured. “He did mention something about recruiting, and numbers growing, and with that, the destruction of D-79. We just have to somehow…interpret what we’ve been given.”
“Ashes and smoke,” Beth mused, “Destruction. What if he was talking about an uprising? Sort of like an inside militia.”
“A militia that would attack their own city?” Emma looked skeptical.

“Maybe it’s like an illegal one,” Rylee suggested, “y’know, in those badass urban city games?”
Elijah paused before shrugging, “He has a point.”
“So why would the mayor want an illegal army to attack his city? That would reflect horribly on him,” Emma replied.
Beth massaged her temples, body leaning forward. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Keep in mind this man is delusional,” Ethan responded, “We can’t take anything he says as actual, bona fide facts.”
“But underneath all that fantasy rests some truth,” Emma fired back. “Could the fear in his eyes, the trembling in his fingers—could that all be simply an act? I doubt it.”
“I don’t disbelieve what Glenn told us, I’m just trying to put the pieces together. Could it be possible that the mayor has other in—“

Beth was quickly cut off by the buzzing of the monitor implemented into the front of the vehicle, the buttons flashing. Elijah’s eyebrow perked up in curiosity as he pressed the red dial, Sol’s frantic voice spilling through.

“G-Guys!” She shouted, her voice cracking. Elijah felt his stomach churn at the pure terror in her tone, pops and bangs surrounding the air behind her.
“What the hell is going on Sol?!” Beth screamed back, her body tugging at the restriction of the seatbelt.
“T-The Underground, it-it’s up in flames! Uprisings are everywhere! Hell, Ryan was shot! W-We need you guys back here NOW.”

Elijah had never felt such a simultaneous panic flood an entity until that very second.

[/blockquote][/size]

[laura]

{name:Emma#|#picture:18}

A little over six hours later – time saved by forgetting all speed limits – they found themselves back at their warehouse base. Three bikes were thrown lopsidedly to the floor near the main entrance, blood coating the white paint on one of them, half dried by the time that had passed since it had first been spilt.
Emma didn’t stop to think about whose it could be.

Ethan didn’t waste a second; he flashed his palm across the monitor, the doors automatically sliding open when his print was approved, allowing in the panicked outsiders.

They burst into the main room, fear of what they’d find driving them forward, only when they stopped to survey the place, they found nothing but a surreal calmness veiling the room. There was no screaming or crying in agony, no panicking or running around, blood didn’t stain the floor or the chairs, in fact, it looked normal.

The door to their left suddenly slid open, Sol leaning on the other side, her arms crossed loosely across her chest. “About time you got here.”
From where Emma was stood, she could just make out the fresh stitches across Sol’s left eyebrow, a bruise blooming on her chin and a white bandage covering the curve of her right elbow. Sol rarely, if ever, got hurt, - she had cunning and speed on her side – so to see her in her currant state wasn’t a comforting sight.
“Don’t look so shocked,” She continued, stepping through the doorway. “The guys are resting. Not dead. It’s a good fucking thing we have Lucas, that’s all I can say. The guys like a medical genius.”
“What the hell happened?” Emma asked, the shift in Sol’s demeanour between the phone call and now successfully pissing her off. They’d rushed back, expecting god-only-knows-what and here she was, acting her cool self? Hell, no. “You said Uprisings and the city burning and –“
“Calm yourself, Red,” Sol growled, silencing her. “I was about to get to that.”
“Well, hurry up!” Elijah retorted. “Can’t you see we’re dying here?”

There was an evident limp in Sol’s walk as she crossed the room, reaching for her pack of cigarettes. “Hoffman addressed the city, like any other boring as shit announcement he makes, when the chick who was your last mayor, the woman – whatever her name was – steps on to the platform. She’s pissed. Starts telling him he’s a monster for what he’s doing to this city, then commands the police of guard to arrest him. What does Hoffman do?” A small flame flickered from her lighter. “Laughs. The bastard simply laughs. None of the cops make a signal move toward him, either! Not even when he pulled a gun out and publicly shot her in the face.”
An audible gasp sounded from each of them.
“W-What?” Beth murmured, “He killed her – in front of everyone? Didn’t anyone do anything?!”
Sol took a long, drawn out drag of her cigarette, puffing out a ring of smoke in the opposite direction. “The chick most have been loved, right?”
Emma watched it dissipate in to the air. She was close to chastising her for smoking in side, but given the circumstances, she decided to let her off this one time. “She’s been in office for ten years. The publics favourite.”
“Thought so. The city burst into a frenzy the second her body hit the floor. We got caught up in the madness. Logan got trampled on, I got ten shades knocked out of me, and Ryan got shot.”

“Is he okay?” Emma asked, somewhat worried about her moody ex-partner.
Sol shrugged her shoulders as she blew out another few smoky hoops in to the air above her. “Luc said he’ll live, but he’s not in great shape. He’s temperature is through the roof and its making him delirious. Thankfully, he’s out of it right now.”
“And the city?” Ethan asked, his brows creasing in worry. “What of the Underground.”
“We got out of there as fast as we could. Ry was losing blood fast and Logan kept blacking out,” She shook her head then, regret and sadness seeping in to her expression. “Lucas is watching it unfold on the camera’s… there’s fire everywhere and the dead are lying where they fall, littering the streets, both the innocent and Hoffman’s men. But it was something he said, after he shot the woman, that freaked me out…”
Elijah motioned for her to continue.

Sol grimaced. “This is bigger than you think, bigger than all you idiots, this crap-hole city and even bigger than me! We will have order!”

[/blockquote][/font]

[Ange Keating]

{name:Elijah #|#picture:17}

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Beth angrily inquired, although her cheek twitched involuntarily.
“If I knew, don’t you think I would have told you all?” Sol retorted, crossing her arms in irritation as a plume of smoke drifted from between her lips. “And until we know, we’re practically stuck at phase one with less time than we thought.”
Ethan shifted his weight, tiredly running a hand through his hair. “Can this wait until later? My head fucking hurts like hell and I haven’t slept in a comfortable bed in more than forty eight hours.”
Emma touched his bicep lightly, murmuring something about going off to check on Ryan. He nonchalantly nodded before directing his attention back towards the living room scene.

Beth shooed Ethan off with a passive wave. “Go. Most likely the rest of will be up until morning. A solid lead, that’s all we fucking need. One strong clue, Christ, a starting point! We’ve been running around in circles for a good two weeks with nothing to show for it.”
“Well, instead of complaining, why don’t we actually start doing something?” Elijah suggested with a lazy shrug. Even though jobs had dissipated at the agency, at least there was order. Now, he felt like he was in a clusterfuck of disorganization with no definite direction other than a load of random dead ends. And the reward? A lovely life-long stay in federal prison or death by execution if they were lucky.
“How?!” Beth shouted in frustration, throwing her hands up in the air. Rylee was seated at the bar typing away at his computer, occasionally sparing a glance or two. “I feel like nothing’s working!”

Elijah let out a sigh before leaning against the island. “First of all, if you’re trying to be a leader, crumpling under pressure isn’t a particularly encouraged thing. Second, go to bed. You look like hell. I’ll take care of it.”

Clearly, they needed a more eligible leader and Beth, while decent, could never properly run an operation. Elijah, on the other hand, felt incredibly natural telling others what to do and expecting they do it. It was quite entertaining.

“Absolutely not,” she hissed back, planting her feet to the ground. Being stubborn; what was new? “I’m not just going to…abandon you guys!”
Elijah shrugged, already starting down the hall way. “You might as well have; you’re of no use right now. I said I’ll take care of it. Just go to bed!”

~~~

The control room was an obsidian, a network of buttons blinking in the darkness as several television screens showered vicious images of raging fire, thick smoke, dead bodies littering the street. Elijah’s jaw tightened in disgust but he closed the door behind him nonetheless. Lucas was seated in a chair silently as he watched the footage, several sheets of paper resting underneath his elbow.

“Anything interesting?” Elijah prompted, causing the man to abruptly jump in surprise. “Damn, man. Didn’t mean to scare you.”
“N-No it’s okay,” he stammered, straightening up against his chair. “I haven’t found anything worthwhile other than people getting shot and buildings burning to crisps.”
He sighed before plopping down into one of the chairs. The gesture clearly made the younger man uncomfortable, for his shoulder blades tensed. “Wouldn’t the smoke suffocate people or something? If we’re in the Underground.”
“The city has automatic sensors; whenever the smoke levels rise too high or an emergency occurs, built-in ‘grater-looking’ slits are revealed by a large metal disk that usually stimulates the sky scenery, a machine from the above-ground-levels sucking the excess gas out.”
Elijah nodded slowly, azure eyes connecting with the screen once more. “It doesn’t make sense. Why the hell would he burn a city?”
Lucas shrugged, “Too hard to tell.”

Elijah had begun to grow increasingly impatient until two bodies suddenly stuck out like a sore thumb at the bottom right side of the screen, amongst the terror and destruction. Dressed up in a cape that screamed ‘I’m a flaming asshole!’, the mayor discreetly spoke to another person, whom Elijah had dubbed as male. They were tucked away towards an alley way out of the cluster of terrified citizens, faces so close, they could have been exchanging one of the largest secrets of all time.

“Wait, zoom in,” he commanded, rolling his chair closer towards the screen. Lucas did as he was told, focusing closer towards the couple in the corner.

Elijah instantly felt his stomach lurch when the identities were revealed. “Holy hell, is that Glenn O’ Hare?”

[/blockquote][/size]

[laura]

{name:Emma#|#picture:18}

It was hardly surprising to find the tiny medical room empty except for Ryan, attached to a heart monitor in the centre of the room, his complexion visibly pale and clammy. A thick layer of white bandages were wrapped around his upper right side, a faint circle of red peeking through the white. He looked like a broken man, alone with his unconscious dreams, nothing but the sound of his steady heartbeat echoing throughout the room. It was then, that for the first time, Emma felt sorry for him. She felt her heart pang at the thought of his loneliness.

She stood at the side of his bed, noting the large dark circles marring his normally handsome face.
Ryan wasn’t dead, and Emma found herself relieved at that fact. He didn’t deserve to die, especially at the hand of Hoffman and his men. None of them did – not Logan, Beth, Ethan… or the people of D-79.

A low groan sounded when Emma pressed her hand against his forehead, feeling his burning skin against her palm. His temperature was through the roof, hotter than she thought was physically possible.
Jesus, had Lucas done anything for him, apart from stick him in a bed?
“Ryan…” Emma breathed, dropping her hand away. “It’s me, Emma, do you want me to get you anything?”
He groaned again, his eyes fluttering open. “No… closer.”
“Closer?” She echoed, leaning against the side of the bed.
“C-Come closer…please, I-“ Ryan coughed, clearing his throat. “-I need you to be closer.”

With a crease of her brows, Emma did as he wanted, moving in closer, her head bowing lower. His normally sharp gaze, alight with awareness, was now listless and dull.

Shaky cold fingers locked loosely around her wrist, anchoring Emma to his side. “I’m so glad to see you.” He breathed, his tone taking a somewhat satisfied turn. “Your face was the only thing… when I was shot…I didn’t… I…”
“Ryan,” Emma cut him off sternly. “You’re not making sense. I’ll go get Lucas and –“
“I love you, Sarah,” Ryan’s bright blue eyes zoned in on hers. “I’ll always love you like I do now. Always. Never forget that.”

Sarah…? Why was that name so familiar to – his wife! Sarah was Ryan’s wife.
Which only meant his temperature was pushing him over the line to delirious. He thought Emma was his long dead wife.

When the fingers of his free hand brushed gently at her cheek, Emma caught his hand, holding it back from her. “Ryan, I’m not Sarah…”
“When the baby comes, we’ll go look into that house you like. I know I said it was too expensive, but…”
“Jesus,” Emma tore her gaze from his. “Stop this, will you? I’m not your wife.”
Ryan ignored her, instead smiling wistfully to himself. “I can’t wait to be a father, angel.”
“I’m going to get Lucas.”

She pushed away from him, or at least, tried to. Emma didn’t so much as get a inch away before his hand was returning to her face, his loose hold strengthened when he dragged her toward him and planted his lips firmly against her own.
The first initial shock caught her off guard; the feel of his mouth on hers was awkward and uncomfortable, emotion only evident on one side.
“Ryan!” Emma growled against his lips, shoving him back. “Get off me!”
“Sarah…”
Rubbing the back of her hand across her mouth, desperate to shake the lasting feel of his lips away, Emma pushed back from the bed. “I’m not Sarah, goddamn it!”

[/blockquote][/font]

[Ange Keating]

{name:Elijah #|#picture:17}

Elijah abruptly felt like there was a ridiculously large chunk of the big picture he had been missing. How the hell had a mentally handicapped man traveled all the way to D-79 when they had seen him less than twenty four hours ago? Why was he talking to Hoffman? Elijah’s body tensed against the chair, staring at the scene for several more seconds as if to confirm the fact they were actually there in the flesh, before leaping up from the chair.

“We have to get there,” Elijah quickly announced, “Now.”
Lucas’ eyes widened in shock, pointer finger instinctively pushing up the glasses that slid along the bridge of his nose. “It’ll be impossible to find them in five minutes.”
“Not if we know where they’re going.”

The office was the very last place he suspected, considering he gave Hoffman credit for being somewhat intelligent. There was no way in hell he’d risk getting caught with an old fart resting on the brink of insanity. He cared about his image too much; about the media. But where else?

“Is there any way to pick up sound on this thing?” he inquired, rising up from the chair. He spared a glance at the digital clock on his wrist, twelve minutes past two shining back at him in bright, fluorescent numbers. If they intended to do something, time was fleeting.

“Hold on,” Lucas murmured, typing away at a few pads on the keyboard, “Rylee bugged the software somehow. I think it’s pos—“ a voice suddenly caught on the footage, the gruff, arrogant tone of Hoffman filling the room. The audio wasn’t spectacular, showered by a world of terror around it, but if Elijah strained his ears enough, bits and pieces were easy to pick up.

“Do you understand me?” Hoffman hissed. “AL20-112, 5 AM. I’ll deliver the garbage.”
Elijah’s eyebrows shot upwards as the mayor shoved a box towards Glenn’s direction, the man nodding vigorously.
“The garbage?” The young agent murmured in confusion.
Lucas let out a tiny sigh, dropping an ink pen on the table irritably. “I don’t understand.”

The mayor then turned on his heel, vanishing into the crowd of people as easily as he came, before the footage suddenly ripped to gray, darkness showering the room. Lucas was the first to hurriedly get up, moving to the control base as he played around with several buttons.

“We lost connection,” he breathed, placing two hands on the top of his head, cheeks flushed with increasing frustration.
“Doesn’t matter,” Elijah responded, “we have what we need.”

Even though his mind was still running a blank, the only possible option they had involved a visit to the deteriorating heart of The Underground. After all, it didn’t require too much skill to follow a mental patient in the big city for the first time, right?

“I’ll try and see what I can from here,” the twin mumbled, already switching on the lights and leafing through papers.
Elijah nodded thankfully before pushing open the large doors and dashing through the hallway. Months ago he would have swore on his life he was able to take on such large tasks singlehandedly, but he was proud to realize his idiot complex had since then faded, realism taking its place.
So of course naturally the first woman he had turned to for assistance was the lethal red head who resided in the medical sector.

…And who happened to be screaming?

Elijah rushed through the entrance only to see a red-faced Emma backing away from a sickly-looking Ryan who was now staring up at her as if she carried the constellations in her eyes (which, she did, but he hadn’t expected others to look at her the same way). He could have inquired about the previous events but with the situation at hand, he had no time for casualties.

“Em, we have to go,” he declared, already holding open the steel slab. “No time for questions.”

[/blockquote][/size]

[laura]

{name:Emma#|#picture:18}

Pushing Ryan and his unwanted kiss to the back of her mind, Emma quickly fixed her attention on to the matter at hand, focusing on Elijah’s words as he filled her in on the goings on. They mounted his bike, and fitted with their trusty ear pieces - in case Lucas should need to contact them, and visa versa – they headed for the Underground.

Elijah’s voice filled Emma’s helmet and she couldn’t hide her surprise when he mentioned Glenn once more, with Hoffman of all people.
It didn’t make sense for him to be with the mayor again, after all, his fear was plausible when he spoke of the man; gods only knew what the poor bastard was like around him.
A mentally unstable man once more in the clutches of the monster that has made him that way? Something was definitely off.

There wasn’t a single car on the road into the city, but on the other side of the carriage way, leading away from the Underground metropolis… that was another story entirely. Both lanes were jam packed with cars, a flurry of honking horns and shouting complaints filling the air, fights were breaking out amongst frustrated citizens, clearly impatient with the lack of movement from the traffic.

Then, they exited the tunnel and Emma saw for herself what the city had now become.
She squeezed at Elijah. “Jesus Christ.”

Smoke rose high above the towering buildings, in thick black and white clouds, and though the vents littered on the ceilings and surrounding walls were doing there jobs, when one cloud was absorbed, another took it’s place.
Rioters lined the streets, tossing flaming bottles through windows, breaking into shops to take what they could, some fighting with uniformed men – all of which wore the same black padded gear, goggles masking their eyes and a familiar insignia stitched into their arms – and losing.
Where had she seen that symbol before?

“Guess we just got the answer to the fires,” Emma said into her helmet, knowing that Elijah could hear her through his own. “I didn’t think it made sense for Hoffman to burn buildings down. It’s the rioters; probably protesting over the execution of the last mayor.”
The bike flew around a tight corner, only narrowly missing two uniformed men. “It was on the corner of Richmond that I saw Hoffman and O’Hare. Are the camera’s up and running again, Luc?”
Lucas’ voice buzzed into their ears. “Just. I lost O’Hare for a minute there, but I tracked him down… he entered the train station only a moment ago.”
“Train station?” Emma echoed. “What the hell is he going there for?”
“I should have picked up on it before,” Lucas growled, ignoring Emma’s question. “The number that Hoffman said to him… it’s a train.”
“And the garbage?”
“I don’t know that part, but…” There was a pregnant pause. “I’ve got Rylee on the case, and despite the fact that the train isn’t registered on any website or schedule, he found where its destination is set.”
“Let me guess,” Elijah said, taking another corner sharply and setting them onto the route to the station. “Venus Hill?”
“Got it in one.”

Emma frowned to herself. There was nothing about this that made any sense – he was in D-79 to catch a train back to the place he’d just come from. What the fuck was up with that?
“What’s going on in the station?”
“The cameras have been taken out. I can’t see past the entrance.”

In less than no time, they were pulling up outside the small, unguarded station, the car park empty apart from one vehicle.

Emma’s blood ran cold.

She tore her helmet off and stared in horror at the bright blue vacant mini bus parked up to their right, ’Angelica’s Angels' painted in an untidy scrawl along the side.
“The orphans…” She breathed, pointing at the bus.
“What the hell are they doing here?”
“I don’t know, but we have to find out.”

Abandoning the bike, the couple ran through the tall archway and onto the only platform the station had. The common use of trains had died out years ago, but large cities still homed them for the rare occasion that they were needed.
A long, five-carriage train floated above the tracks, the kids seen jumping about excitedly in their seats through the windows, as Glenn situated himself in the driver’s compartment.

Wait. What?

[/blockquote][/font]

[Ange Keating]

{name:Elijah #|#picture:17}

Garbage, the city’s garbage. It all made sense! Hoffman wanted the orphaned children of D-79 banished. But why to Venus Hill? And why hadn’t the vice president intervened? He couldn't be as fucked up in the head. Elijah felt hais thoughts swirl, bits and pieces floating in the depths of his mind as he hurriedly tried to piece them together. Emma had been the first one to react to the scene, feet pumping against the asphalt as she desperately rushed to the front of the train, Elijah following suit.

“Hey!” she shouted at Glenn, waving her arms, just as the large, metal wheels began to screech. Smoke wafted about the tiny, enclosed tunnel, the tracks surging upwards above The Underground.
Glenn only smiled though, honking that horn in an obnoxious fashion that caused Elijah’s eardrums to pulsate, the kids laughing through the thick, glass windows, unaware of their fate. “Stop the train!” she cried, reaching out for one of the safety bars that lined the bogie of the fourth carriage only to miss the metal by a centimeter just as the train kicked to life,

She was successful with her second attempt though, boot catching the metal landing as her hand reached out for Elijah’s, exerting all her strength to help him onto it. They wasted no time busting open the carriage door just to enter into the dining car, although no food was served. Kids were huddled into booths, some pointing at drawings while others chatted vibrantly with their friends. However, all at once, twenty four sets of eyes locked onto the couple, blinking in anticipation as they waited for the strangers to make a move.

Emma was the first to speak. “H-Hello.”
A couple waved while others continued to stare in confusion.
“We’re here, because, well—“ Elijah tapered off, unsure of how to explain the situation. They hadn’t exactly discussed what they would say upon boarding the train.
“Because we're hitching, a uh, ride, to where you all are going.”
“And we’re going to…” he gestured for the children to complete his sentence, silently begging for at least one person to fill in the gap.

Finally a boy with sweeping brunette locks and brilliant hazel eyes spoke up, “Venus Hill! Glenn said it was an amusement park!”
Elijah’s lips moved although no words escaped it, a tiny breath slipping out instead. Emma and him exchanged a look before he was turning to face the congregation of children once more, “An amusement park, eh?”
“Sounds fun,” Emma jumped in with a smile, obviously opting out of telling the kids the true monstrosities of the town for obvious reasons.

Then after grinning like idiots for several more seconds they had busted through all three carriages leading to the front of the train while trying to look as casual as possible (although there was no casual way to hide two agents, clearly older, with a strong agenda in mind).

“I haven’t been to an amusement park in years,” Elijah commented offhandedly, staying on her heel.
“I haven’t been to an amusement park ever, and I can’t tell if you’re being facetious or borderline ADD.”
“Probably both.”

Emma banged open the door to the cab, exclaiming, “Glenn!” just as the old man whirled around.
“Hello!” he shouted back, a wide grin spreading across his lips. A large window resided in front of the main wheel, the dark tracks blending into a mix of colors as they shot upwards, away from the fierce red flames of The Underground.
“Why the hell are you taking these kids to Venus Hill?!” Emma continued to yell, closing the door behind them.
Elijah leaned against the door restlessly, revealing a handgun from the compartment in his holster before tapping it against his chin. He hadn’t intended to utilize violence, but if it came down to it…

“So we can all be free!” he cried, happiness glittering in his eyes.
“Venus Hill is a hazard,” Emma hissed.
“No, free,” he annunciated, as if what he was saying was going entirely over their heads.
“What the hell do you mean?” Elijah questioned, a sickly feeling in the pit of his stomach telling him Venus Hill wasn’t their biggest issue.
“The train will go boom and we’ll all be in--” he lifted his hands, his large smile only growing, “—eternal bliss.”

What the fuck? Boom, as in explosion, as in—

“Bomb,” Emma murmured in disbelief. “There’s a bomb?!”
“Shit,” Elijah cursed, forcefully pressing the gun against Glenn’s temple. “Where the hell is the bomb?!”
He only laughed hysterically, eyes completely off the wheel. “That’s a secret I can’t tell youuuu,” he sung. “Hoffman is my leader, and I’m simply his subject. Now if you’ll excuse me, the driver needs his peace.”

[/blockquote][/size]

[laura]

{name:Emma#|#picture:18}

A flurry of jumbled thoughts ran through her mind, all in the same second; sheer panic for the children in the carriages behind them, for the innocent, clueless townsfolk of Venus Hill burst throughout her. They’d all die, only because it was what Hoffman wanted.

Emma lurched forward, grabbing the old man by the scruff of his wrinkled shirt. He only laughed when she shook him, his stale breath blowing out against her cheeks. “I’ll make you the subject of my fist if you don’t tell me where the fucking bomb is!” She exclaimed, shaking his skinny frame once more. All traces of her empathy for the man evaporated in the wind.
“You can not scare me,” Glenn smiled happily, his arms eagle spread. “The end is near. I’ve waited for it for so looooong.”
“Then kill yourself you crazy bastard!” With a few quick steps, Emma had him pinned up against the side of the compartment. “Don’t take children with you!”
“The children have no place here,” Glenn answered simply, his smile never fading. “Just like you don’t. Don’t you see that? You are an orphan too, another lost and unwanted soul in this vast and cruel world. Join us in death, won’t you?”

“Jesus Christ,” Elijah murmured. “I thought you were fucked in the head, but this is something else.”

Emma shook her head impatiently. No amount of threatening was going to get through to Glenn, no matter how hard she tried; he wanted pain and death as much as everyone else on the planet wanted to breathe and live.

Her jaw tightened. “When does the bomb go off, Glenn?”
“When we arrive, of course! I can not deprive the people of my town a blissful ending.”

Suddenly, Emma found herself thinking back to the small Inn they’d stayed at, with the pregnant woman sat behind the desk, her husband running the place – they hadn’t reacted in anger when her and Elijah had broken their bed, oh no, they’d laughed and shot them quiet, yet knowing, looks.
Despite the run-down appearance of the town, the people within it were still alive.

“There are innocent citizens there,” The words came out in a harsh growl.
“They’re living a lie.”
“They’re living their lives!”
Glenn dropped his head back in a howling laugh. “Those lives aren’t real. They’re made up by that small fragment of a chip inside their minds. I’m freeing them from a prison I’ve had to endure for way too long. Now please, leave me be. I don’t want to call for back-up.”

“Back-up?” Elijah asked. “If you haven’t noticed, we’re on a moving train. Where is backup going to come from? The sky?”
Glenn didn’t answer. Instead he raised his left hand up, a thick black watch locked around his wrist, with a small blinking red light on where the watch face should have been.

A heart beat of silence passed, then another, and another, and another… before the distinctive sound of metal bending began, growing louder with each passing second.
Snap!
The door at the end of the next carriage creaked in protest as an unknown force ripped it from it’s hinges, the wind from the darkening night outside free to travel through the only free part of the train.

Emma dropped her hold on Glenn to move up alongside Elijah in the doorway of the compartment, watching and waiting in a bated breath for what was to follow.
The echo of an engine rolled past the train, a millisecond before four heavily armed and uniformed men jumped one at a time through the missing door, their goggles and stitched insignia giving them away as Hoffman’s men.

“Guess this is back-up,” Emma murmured to Elijah, her hand reaching for the knife attached at her thigh. “Two each… this shouldn’t be hard.”
As the last words left her lips, Emma jolted forward, running down the length of the carriage and slamming into one of the middle men, catapulting them both through the door and into the next section.

[/blockquote][/font]

[Ange Keating]

{name:Elijah #|#picture:17}

“Is this the warm up?” Elijah questioned with a snicker, placing the gun back in holster before raising his fists, feeling the urge to handle this bare knuckles. After all, he might as well challenge himself in the process.

A tall, burly man with curled brunette hair and a nasty scar tearing the skin along his jaw barricaded the door, standing at a good inch or two taller than Elijah. He had instantly reached for the hand gun concealed by his thick vest, a playful smile stretching across his boxy face as he neared him. “This should be easy,” he teased, pointing the barrel of his weapon directly at the agent’s temple.

Elijah could only snort. “A gun; really? I figured someone like you wouldn’t pussy out of a good fight, but eh, suppose I’m wrong.”
The man opened his mouth to shoot back a retort but he quickly used this split second of unawareness to charge full force at the wide man, pressing his body against the wall as the metal clattered to the floor. Glenn let out a shriek of fear, which Elijah skillfully ignored, only tightening his fingers against the guard’s thick throat.

He gurgled in protest, eyes gradually flitting closed before something surged in his 6’7” form, fat fingers worming up his jaw as he forcefully threw his head against Elijah’s, pain surging through his temples as he remained temporarily stunned. He had quickly recovered though, bringing a hard fist to his nose, splatters of blood squirting out in thick, fibrous clots.

“Rrnggg,” was the last word he uttered before Elijah clamped his hands on either side of the man’s jaw in a similar fashion before snapping it hard to the right and watching him crumple to the floor. A bitter copper fluid danced on his tongue as he winced, backing away from the corpse hardly in time before two brawny arms wrapped around his shoulders, driving him backwards so abruptly, he stumbled over his feet.

“Little…fucker,” he hissed, pressing a knife to his throat and managing to nick the skin there in the process.
Elijah used all his body weight to back him into the door, the metal slab easily flying open as they crashed onto the bogie, the tracks moving rapidly below the safety rails. He crawled to his feet just before feeling the collision of a metal boot to his stomach, a thicket of blood bubbling up from his throat and staining his lips.

“You thought you could get away with killing my pal, huh?” he questioned, reaching for the knife again as he edged closer and closer to Elijah. The wind whipped brutally across his stinging face, brain working rapidly to calculate his next movement.
“I did,” Elijah responded with a smirk, “he was hardly any competition. And judging by the looks of it, you won’t be either.”

The man growled in response, hurdling towards him again just as Elijah pressed two firm hands on his shoulder, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt as he twisted him towards the railing, pressing his body tightly enough against the other man’s to force him halfway off the safety. Unfortunately he hadn’t given much thought to the man holding onto his arms for dear life, eyes flying towards the dark obsidian below as fear momentarily welled in his eyes.

Elijah felt the cool metal of the blade on his arm, bending his forearm to touch the butt of the weapon before sliding it from his grasp and pressing it against the tip of his chin.

“I love playing God,” he taunted with another chuckle, just as the man whimpered in fear, There was definitely a high that came with being in control; a high that he profusely enjoyed. And as much as he wanted to end the prick’s life on the hastening tracks, another idea came to mind. “Although I’ve found a shrivel of significance in your otherwise lackluster life. Thankfully that means you won’t paint the trails tonight.”

Big, plump tears spilled down his cheek as he nodded ferociously. Christ, he was pathetic. “I’ll do anything!”

Elijah shot him another mischievous grin. “Fantastic.”

[/blockquote][/size]

[laura]

{name:Emma#|#picture:18}

The bottom of her boot connected with a large, square jaw, before she twisted, her other foot meeting with the second mans face. The children around them quickly darted from their booths, retreating into the next carriage, crying and screaming as they dodged the flailing men.

Emma mentally cursed herself; she should have thought about the kids before she’d knocked the guy through the door; yet now, she’d successfully scared the shit out of half a dozen of them. Great.

With her attention momentarily distracted by the kids, Emma didn’t see one of the men stumble up behind her, righting himself from her kick with anger and vengeance on his side. He copied her earlier moves, barrelling into her hard and fast, the force sending them to the floor and knocking the breath out of her lungs.
Luckily for her, yet unfortunately for him, she still had hold of her knife, the blade now embedded deep within his chest. He released a strangled cry when she tore it from him, rolling onto his back, his hands shaking as he tried to cover the weeping wound.
With a flick of her wrist, Emma ended his pain.

“Stay where you are, bitch!”
Emma paused as she got to her feet, her eyes locking ahead to where the second man was stood, his arm locked around the shoulders of a frightened young girl, her wide green eyes red-rimmed from her tears. She didn’t look any older than five; her black hair braided neatly – Angelica’s signature hair style.

A sob broke from her lips and Emma moved forward, her stride powered by determination. A knife was going to be the least of this fuckers problems; he’d die much, much slower.
“Nuh-uh,” He tutted, raising his hand to fit beneath the little girls chin, “come a step closer, and I’ll snap her neck like a twig.”
Abruptly, she stopped, her jaw tightening. “Step away from the girl, asshole.”
“You don’t get to bark the orders here!” He cried, making another sob break from the child’s restricted throat. “You’re the ones that’s been making trouble, aren’t ya? Well, not this time. I’m going to make you scream like the rest of the children on this hell-bound train.”

“I don’t think so you brute!” The flash of a bright red handbag flew overhead, slamming into the back of his head, a look of pure shock overtaking his stone cold features. “Let go!”

Emma saw her opening, the brief let down of his guard, the loosening of his hold on the girl’s neck… She darted across the space, slamming her fist into his chin. The second his hand dropped away from the child, Emma unleashed her fury, her knee connecting solidly with his crotch, sending his nose into the path of her elbow.

“Emma!” Angelica’s hysterical voice cried out. “Not in front of the children!”
Pausing mid-punch, Emma glared at her old friend. “Not really the time to shield them from this –“
With wide eyes, Angelica watched the man slump to the floor, his hands cupping at his sore manhood.
Emma shrugged, “I kicked his balls into his stomach; that’s not too violent.”
“Dear gods Emma, watch your mouth!”
“We have bigger things to worry about right now then what these kids see, Angelica,” She said impatiently, nudging past the woman to slid open one of the metal doors leading out into the darkness beyond. “What the hell are you doing on this train, anyway?”

“A…erm…” Both Angelica and the interested gazes of the children watched as she gradually dragged the man across the floor, pausing to offer him another kick or two before tossing him out without a care.

“Now,” Emma began, dusting her hands off on her jean clad thighs. “What was I saying? Ah! Yea… what are you doing on here, anyway?”
“We’re taking a…” The woman visibly swallowed, then shook her head, as if to remind herself of who she was talking to. Throwing someone out of a moving train was hardly classed as a ‘big deal’ in Emmaworld. “…trip.”

“Well, let me start by saying that we’re all going to have a blast.”

[/blockquote][/font]

[Ange Keating]

{name:Elijah #|#picture:17}

Elijah had used the cuffs in his back pocket to subdue the weeping guard, boot pressing down on his back during. He’d become more than useful later on when they had questions, the main ones including the insignia that he sported on his sleeve. It was no universal sign of law enforcement, or any professional group of people working under the government. For now, he had other tasks to attend to such as finding and defusing a bomb before they blew up to pieces. In a rush, Elijah and Emma had forgotten to carry their ear pieces, which would have no doubt made this process easier. But eh, should’ve, could’ve, would’ve, they were on their own now.

Elijah pushed through the doors of the next carriage just to see Emma and…Angelica? Circled around kids whimpering in fear. The blood that smeared his face and clothing probably did nothing to assuage them, their eyes only growing glassier. He was more confused by the womens' idle status, eyebrows perking up in confusion.

“Didn’t know we had time for chit chat,” Elijah mused, a trace of irritancy in his voice before he was glancing down at his watch as it ticked towards two-thirty.
Emma probably had opened her mouth to speak but he hadn’t caught it by the time he was darting through the other rooms to the only place in the train where it’d make sense for a bomb to be.

The EOTD. It was a mechanism also known as the End of Train Device which practically acted as the nerve system of the entire vehicle. Blow those out and not only would they explode, but the train would rip through the guards that lined the narrow track before careening into the deep, dark pits of the tunnel to prevent any unlikely survivors from surviving.

Lovely.

However, the only way to get to this device was up and out; there was doorway or carriage. He’d have to get to the roof of the train and hitchhike over to the small open-section that housed the EOTD in hopes of finding the explosive.

Emma had caught up to him, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Suppose you were going to exclude me from the fun?” She sounded sarcastic almost, and Elijah shrugged.
“Done with your conversation?”
“ I was trying to find evidence.”
“And then it won’t matter if we all detonate to smithereens,” Elijah shot back before glancing at the ceiling and scowling at the small, protruding box that was probably used as means of an escape. Impossible; it was too small. There was no way in hell he could fit through that! Immediately he turned towards the slender red-head, cupping his hands together as he held it to his knee. “You’re going to have to get to the EOTD.”
“End of Train Device?”
Elijah nodded just as her eyes lit up in understanding.
“Of course!” she exclaimed, the shock of realization overwhelming her. Emma then pressed her boot into the palm of Elijah’s hand, using the upwards force to blow open the square slab with her gun and hoist her body over the top.

However, just before she could slip all the way through, Elijah’s eyes softened momentarily before calling out, “Just be safe, alright?” If he could’ve taken the dangerous position, he would have in a heartbeat, but he trusted her abilities, perhaps as much as his own. Christ.
She craned her neck to shoot him the slightest of smiles before shaking her head. “See you in five.”

[/blockquote][/size]

[laura]

{name:Emma#|#picture:18}

As she stared down the length of the carriage, the harsh wind blowing her hair across her face, Emma focused her unwavering attention on the task at hand. The End of Train Device was normally located at the rear of the train, it’s location in plain site, but she hardly expected this one –with a bomb strapped to it – to be so easy to find.

She didn’t look back at Elijah as she pushed herself free from the hole, mostly because she knew what she’d find if she did; his all too rare softened - mixed with worry – expression, that would only want to make her jump back down and kiss him, despite what situation they were in. Hell, Emma could be on death row and still want to take a second for Elijah time.

But something told her he wouldn’t appreciate a quick kiss right about now; he appeared to be wound tighter than a spring, the crease in his eyebrow (something that happened when he was pissed or impatient, sometimes both) a now permanent addition to his face.

Jesus Christ, Emma thought angrily to herself, Stop thinking about Elijah! You call yourself an agent? Get your head in the game!

With a shake of her head, that’s just what she did. Emma forced all thoughts of her man and his creasing brows from her mind and started along the carriage, the grips on the bottom of her boots making it easier than she expected it to be.

The first opening between the carriages was a bust, nothing but wiring and various knobs and buttons, the same with the second and third, and just as she reached the fourth, her arms and legs beginning to tire, a flickering red light caught her attention, hidden beneath a large black box between the conjoining carriageways. Emma didn’t waste any time in dropping down, her body fitting neatly through the tight space.

And there it was, in all this scary-bomb-looking-glory, attached to the bottom of the device. A compact digital map was also locked to its side, a small blue arrow following the course of the train tracks, following the route of the doomed journey with accuracy. At first she thought that the numbers in the corner was the countdown in hours, but with closer inspection, it was clear it was miles left to travel, going down with each passing minute.
And at the current speed the train was going, it wouldn’t be long until detonation. It would be bye-bye to them, the children and Venus Hill.

“Fuck,” Emma cursed, shifting down onto her hands and knees, her hands shaking ever so slightly as she reached out, her finger tips brushing against the protruding wires.

There were the typical three colours – red, blue and green. Why did it always have to come down to the fucking wires? She’d jumped through the ceiling with little thought of what she was going to do if or when she actually found the bomb.
“That’s what I get,” She grumbled, reaching for her knife, “for thinking of nothing but fucking Elijah. What the hell is wrong with me? I’m turning into one of those pathetic women I hate so much.”

She slid the blade of her knife beneath the three wires, more than prepared to cut them all in her haste, but even Emma (and he limited bomb knowledge) knew that that wouldn’t be her best idea.
How did it go again...?
Red, you’re dead.
Blue, you’re through.
Green, you’re keen.
Did that last one even make sense?

Emma dropped the blade. What she decided here would determine the fate of hundreds of lives, not just her own. It was enough to spur on a seedling of doubt within her. What if she cut the wrong one and set the bomb off there and then?
They’d die instantly… instead of dying later.

Who was she kidding? What did it matter if she cut the wrong one? They were doomed anyway. This was their one shred of hope and by god, Emma was going to take it.

Pressing the blade once more against the device, she cut through the red wire.

[/blockquote][/font]

[Ange Keating]

{name:Elijah #|#picture:17}

Elijah had felt his heart painfully thump in his chest, the hum of the tracks under the metal wheels and the loud buzzing of the air conditioner doing little to assuage his thoughts. He hated himself for letting his mind escape the mission, for thinking solely about her and if she was alright. Elijah’s jaw tightened, shoulders rolling against its sockets as he tilted his head back. The thought truly occurred to him that there would be no rest for a very long time; even after this mission concluded, it was simply onto the next task, their lives being risked every single time until they could bring peace to not only D-79, but the slowly deteriorating country.

Bomb threats had shaken the Southern region as of last week; uprisings were tearing up small towns as the vice president imposed his new plans, promising a revilitization of how things were typically ran. He had went on to proclaim that Henry Hoffman would be his vice president as soon as the grace period for the finding of the president was over. They only had weeks, and weeks were hardly enough time, to find the only man that would truly save this country. He was the missing puzzle piece.

Elijah’s blood-stained lids were tightly closed until the loud thump of a body hitting the floor forced them open. In a flurry of relief and satisfaction, he saw Emma straightening her body, red curls spilling across her chest haphazardly as she approached him with a tiny smile. “The bombs defused. Now what?”

Elijah snickered, removing his gun from the holster and inching towards the door. “Just follow my lead, alright? We have someone else to take care of.”

Psycho Glenn O’ Hare. Somehow they’d have to turn the train around – get these kids back to the city before they were put in anymore danger. However, it seemed as if Angelica had read his mind by the time they were back in the frontal carriage, her eyebrows knitting together in wory.

“We can’t just…bring them back to the city! Hoffman had tried to get rid of them in the first place! Who knows what he’ll do if he realizes they’re not actually gone?”
Elijah opened his mouth to speak but Emma beat him to the chase, her features softening in realization. “Then where do we take them?”
“The country’s going to hell,” he spoke up, “is there really a safer place for them?” They were breaking almost every kind of law ‘kidnapping’ these kids from the government, but at this point in time, laws seemed completely irrelevant when everyone was breaking them.

“There’s approximately twenty,” she murmured, “well, there’s a little farm in F-90 known as a Safe Haven. It’s for people who want to escape whatever dangerous situation they were in, whether this was domestic violence, killers, or anything, practically. It’s well-guarded and completely secure – right now, that place is their only shot.”
“How will you get them there?” Emma questioned.
“I mean no offense, but how do we know you’re not taking these children to a concentration camp or something?” The fact that she was on a train to Timbuktu already seemed shady enough to him. Maybe it was just his trust issues.

Emma rolled her eyes, their bodies so close she was able to dig her nails slightly into the tender skin of his stomach, hissing, “I’ve known Angelica almost all my life. She’d never do such a thing.”
“Ow! I’m sorry for being thorough, but—“
“Do you have a better option?” Angelica intervened. “Because my way seems like the best way and I’ll stand by it.”
“I’ll stand by it, too,” Emma whispered, “Just tell me how I can help you get them there. Whether it’s gas or supplies, or…”
“Just make sure this train gets to the next stop safely – I’ll know how to get to the Safe Haven from there.”
She nodded powerfully, “Of course.”

Then, she moved past the old woman with Elijah following irritably behind, Glenn’s carriage only a few paces ahead.

[/blockquote][/size]