Blacklight S2 (R)

[Ange Keating]

Elijah was sore, and it was the type of pain that had slowly festered over the weeks, leaving his limbs taut and raw. Emma had tried massaging the numerous knots out only for new ones to form in its place. He knew there was only so long he could go without getting his injuries treated, but with a predominant amount of the population controlled by Hoffman’s chip, it was impossible to seek the help needed without risking his life in turn. Darrius had promised that with the ‘president’s’ address in their grasp, they’d be approaching the end of their struggles soon. Elijah could only hope this was true.

But after walking for so long and feeling the tenderness in his limbs, he wanted nothing more than to distract himself through entertainment. And what better way to do that than inquiring about Rylee’s opaque love life? If the other man was anything like he remembered him, the mention of girls would most definitely beyond fluster him.

“So what’s goin’ on with Beth?”
Rylee made a sound that mimicked the disgusting, throaty noise you made when you were about to upchuck. “W-What? What do you mean?”
“As in, you two a thing or?”
“A thing as in a…as in a relationship?”
“What the fuck else would I be talking about?” Elijah snorted. “Yes, a relationship. Or are you two just screwing around?” The idea of Rylee ever doing those sort of things with a woman of the female variety made him want to vomit, but the sight of his cheeks flushing a deep, crimson red was more than worth the disturbing images.

They maneuvered around a few thick trees, Elijah twisting a long, narrow grass blade between his thumb and pointer. Silence passed over them for several seconds before Rylee was suddenly finding his voice again. “We’re not…doing that, we’re—”
“Of course you two wouldn’t be having sex if you can’t even say the word.” He was ruthless, and thoroughly enjoyed being that way.
The chubbier man’s lips tightened, but he shrugged. “I don’t even know what we are, alright? She’s sending me mixed signals. I just…what the hell is wrong with me, Elijah? Why don’t chicks ever like me?”

Christ; he had to pull the guilt card, and like a chump, Elijah actually felt himself mildly pitying him. He exhaled sharply before rolling his eyes, and reaching out to halt his walking by placing a firm hand on his shoulder. “Look, there’s nothing wrong with you, alright? You just need some work.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I mean that you can’t walk around acting like a kicked puppy all the time. Be a man! Take charge! Ask her what the hell she wants from you and to stop teasin’ around. You gotta lay down the laws and make it obvious that you intend on not beading around the bush.” Pausing, he glanced back at the girls who were talking in close proximity several dozen yards back. “I want you to march up to her and tell her how you feel. Now. Before we waste any time.” And then, with a scowl, he realized Rylee’s light blue t-shirt tucked into his cargos. “And for fucks sake, untuck your shirt. The hell do you wanna look like? A 3rd grader?”

His stepcousin fumbled to pull the t-shirt out of his shorts before nodding firmly. “Okay, I’m doing this. I’m actually—“ he puffed out air from his lips “—doing this.”
“Go get ‘er, tiger,” Elijah demanded with a ruffle of his curly, brunette hair before mentally scolding himself for using such a statement.
Rylee straightened his shoulders, nodding firmly. Then, twisting on his heel, he dashed off towards the pair of women.

[laura]

”The rice was bad, yeah, but not enough to make you throw-up.”
What was it about Beth? The woman never stopped pushing until she was satisfied; and unfortunately for Emma, Beth was anything but. There was a notable glimmer of skepticism in her dark brown eyes.
“You didn't eat that two year old pudding that Rylee found, did you?”
Emma grimaced. What did she think she was? Desperate? “No, I'm pretty sure only Rylee was stupid enough to do that.”
“And he more than paid for it afterward.”
Gross.

Scouting the men ahead, Emma started forward, tightening the straps of her backpack as she went. Beth wasn't the only one dubious of her sudden bout of sickness; after all, one minute she'd felt fine, the next, bam! Hello sickness and nausea. Thankfully, Elijah hadn't noticed yet, his head too full of everything else going on around them.

At the same time Beth spoke, Rylee turned on his heels and strode quickly toward them, his arms swinging at his sides. For a brief second, he reminded her of Elijah, determination radiating from him.

“Random question, buuuuut... When was your last period?”

There were random questions... And then there were questions like that. Emma put on the brakes, Rylee forgotten.
“What the hell kind of question is that?” She snapped, her tone only loud enough for the two of them to hear.
“A logical one.”
“A personal one.”
Beth shrugged casually. “I don't think it is. We're women, we talk about this kind of stuff together. I'm not embarrassed to tell you that I was a week early this month - son of a bitch, uterus. I spent four days telling Rylee to go kill himself.”

Emma opened her mouth, only to find she didn't know what to say. Her monthly cycle wasn't something she'd ever discussed with anyone, not a doctor, or her mother, no-one. Discussing 'that time' every month just didn't happen. Though, now, stopping and thinking about it...
Her brows furrowed in thought. “What date is it?”
“July twenty-forth.”

At the sound of the deep (slightly quivering) voice, Beth and Emma turned to glare at Rylee. He breathed in, his chest protruding. “I have come to talk to, Beth.”

24th July? But that would mean... She was two weeks late.

Beth waved a dismissive hand at the young man. “Not now, Ry.”
“Yes, now. This is important, Beth. I'm taking charge and demanding that you listen to what I have to say.”

Holy shit, she was late.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Beth dropped the other hand on to Rylee’s shoulder. “Okay, okay, just give me five minutes. Emma and I are -”
“Emma,” Rylee's voice held a note of authority. “Please, go away.”

Her body was like a clock; right on time, every month. Emma relied on it.
“Emma!”
The call snapped her from her jumbled thoughts. “Hmm...what?”
Rylee gaped at her. “Didn't you hear me?”
“Say what?”
He groaned loudly, fingers running through his wayward curls. “Eli!” The cousins exchanged impatient looks. “Can you please come and get your girl? She won't leave!”
“Leave? Where am I supposed to go?” She made a point of looking around at their surroundings. “We’re in the middle of the woods. I'll just go climb a tree, shall I?”
“Elijah!”

With an exasperated sigh, Emma pushed Rylee aside. “Oh, fine! I'm going already.”
“Wait!” Beth reached out, grabbing her arm. “What I said...is the...erm...train late or not?”
Rylee blinked in confusion. “Train?”

If the grip on her arm was any indication, then Beth wouldn't be letting go until she got a satisfying answer. So, with a roll of her eyes, Emma murmured a low and hasty, “Late.” and continued on toward Elijah.

[Ange Keating]

Where the hell had that come from? Giving Rylee advice? Usually the younger man was nothing more than a nuisance to him, but here he was, actually wishing the best for him. The feeling of endearment was almost alien for Elijah, and he felt a small shudder rack his spine as he attempted to justify his actions. However, when the red head started in his direction, he was relieved in the fact that he wouldn’t have to ponder his decisions for the time being. Reaching out to tangle their fingers, he pressed their bodies flush together, lips touching her forehead softly.

“They shoo you away?” he questioned, brows rising playfully.
"You could say that. What the hell is up with Rylee?"
“He’s trying to work up the nerve to ask Beth out, apparently.” Yes, he would completely omit the entire section of him basically convincing his step-cousin to do so, because he preferred being as detached from the situation as possible. Mostly because the only love affairs he truly gave a damn about were his and Emma’s. It was just a momentary lapse of judgment that coaxed him into playing match maker -- pity.
A small smile curled at her lips. "Rylee has a crush, eh?"
“More than a crush; it’s like an infatuation.” Elijah snorted, rolling his eyes.

Even though he hadn’t always been charismatic and easy going, particularly around individuals of the female variety, he could at least safely say he had never been as awkward and dorky as Rylee. If he liked a girl, he made it known. If she didn’t like him back – life goes on. If she did, then they were golden. He had just never had any genuine confidence issues so it had helped him talk to others quite easily. Well, until Emma. Hence the only woman capable of turning his legs to jello and manifesting him into a babbling idiot. Yeah. He wasn’t quite sure if he detested or enjoyed that element of their relationship.

In the midst of their conversation he had noticed the pallor complexion that shrouded her skin in comparison to the usual rosiness that dusted her cheekbones. Elijah knew everyone was suffering from the taxing journey on foot, combined with environmental factors that weren’t always optimal, but there was something about the way Emma looked that was sickly. Not in the disgusting way or anything that even resembled the word, but it as if someone had dragged every ounce of life out of her, leaving only a shell in its wake.

Squeezing her hand tighter, he used his free thumb to gently press against the circles underneath her eyes. “Are you alright?” Elijah knew that sometimes Emma kept things bottled in unless it was literally dragged out of her. They had always been much too similar for their own good.
"Yeah. Just...a little tired, I think. Hopefully we'll be able to get a decent nights sleep tonight."
He wanted to press her with more questions, but Rylee and Beth were suddenly standing before them, hands linked together like adolescent teenagers in high school.

“Guys, meet my girlfriend,” the curly-haired brunette announced, evoking an eye roll in the process.
“I guess you two just skipped the dating process entirely.”
“Does it look like we have time for that now?” Beth questioned, face contorting in mild disbelief.
“We just thought, fuck it, what’s there to lose?”
“Well it would make things incredibly awkward if we actually survived this thing and you guys ended up going too fast.”
“Weren’t you the one that just told me to go for it?”
Emma squeezed his wrist, as if silently telling him to let it be. Elijah had no idea why he was so confrontational; perhaps it was genetic.

“I guess I did. Congrats.”

[laura]

Emma and Elijah exchanged a sceptical look, but kept their thoughts to themselves. What Rylee and Beth did with themselves was of little consequence to them; after all, there was only one relationship that they were interested in.
And it was far more intricate, profound and zealous than either of the young couple could ever hope to feel.

With a small quirk of her lips at the thought, Emma gently nudged Elijah, urging him to continue on. His fingers tightened around hers before he moved, his thumb unconsciously stroking at the back of her hand. “Am I the only one who thinks they’re being fucking stupid?” He whispered to her once they were a decent enough distance away from the newfound couple.
“No, I do too, but let’s save the third degree until after we don’t die, okay?”
His jaw visibly tightened, but he nodded his head in agreement. “Okay.”

As he spoke, a small bleep sounded behind them; the low pitched, continuous noise that they all instantly recognised. Rylee folded his shirt sleeve back, revealing the thick black watch wrapped around his wrist. “Darrius,” He said, reading the name flashing up at him. With the push of a button, Darrius’ image appeared from the screen, his head and shoulders forming into a perfectly visible hologram.
“Hey,” Rylee waved meekly at the man. “What’s up?”
“Where’s Eli?”
“Here.” Elijah spoke up, signalling Rylee to aim his watch in his direction. “Have you found it?”

A noticeable smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “Sure have. We walked past it, actually, only found the place when we rounded back.”
Emma frowned to herself. “How could you miss it – is it a small house?”
“No,” His attention shifted to her. “That’s the thing – the house is huge, but I get why it’s all the way out in the middle of nowhere now. The woods act like the perfect cover, tall enough to hide the roof, the trunks thick enough to shroud it from immediate view.”
“Why would he want to hide it so securely?”
“Well… we have a clue, but I’ll let you find out for yourselves when you get here.”

Rylee twisted his wrist to face him once more. “Send me the coordinates?”
Darrius nodded. “I’ll forward them to both you and the others when I hang up.”
“Have you heard from them since we split up?” Beth asked, peering over Rylee’s shoulder.
“Only once,” Darrius shrugged. “Yesterday. Sol was swearing about how Lucas had gotten them lost.”

Perhaps putting Sol and Ryan with the twins wasn’t the best idea they’d ever had; but it was that or taking the twins on themselves. That wasn’t something neither Emma nor Elijah could have coped with. They were tolerable apart… but together, they were an absolute nightmare.

Once Darrius hung up, the watch pinged one more time, the coordinates to his location delivered.

“We’re only two miles away,” Rylee informed them, tapping at various buttons around the face of his watch. “It shouldn’t take us too long.”

If it had been Emma and Elijah walking alone, then it wouldn’t have taken them any time at all, but with their newly coupled company, an extra hour was added on to the total time. It appeared make-out breaks were suddenly on the cards.

A small water stop had abruptly turned into one. Hell, Emma wouldn’t have minded so much if she could partake, but indulging her in little tongue wrestling wasn’t at the forefront of Elijah’s mind. They were in the ideal location for it as well; an array of bluebells carpeted the forest floor, illuminating the immediate surroundings with a musky blue aurora. All they had to do was minus the fumbling idiots pressed against the tree trunk somewhere behind them and yeah, ideal.

Releasing an audible sigh, Emma pressed her face into Elijah’s shoulder. “Tell me again – why did you think giving Rylee advice was a good idea?”

[Ange Keating]

Honestly, Elijah always felt incredibly awkward giving people relationship advice or anything regarding love in general. Before Emma, the notion of romance had been completely foreign to him, the idea of being tied down to one person too unrealistic to stomach. The sight of couples holding hands or doing all that lovey-dovey shit had visibly disgusted him in high school, and several years ago, he would have never believed that he had the emotional capacity to fall so hard for someone. Someone who had done nothing but infuriated him in the beginning. It was almost surreal to have the same woman shove him up against the bark of a tree, nose nuzzled in his shoulder.


Elijah had already decided that she was the only exception; the only female on this earth that had the power to make him feel the way he did. She made him so needy, as if being away from her for too long was a mental struggle. Now, more than ever, it felt like they were tethered together in some inexplicable way by a force much too strong to ever be adequately explained. The thought of losing her was a thought he couldn’t bear to even process; because he knew if such a thing were to happen, a large portion of who he was would be lost with her. Elijah knew that if anyone ever harmed her, he’d get the immense pleasure out of tearing them to shreds.


“He looked like someone killed his cat. I don’t even know what came over me,” he muttered with an eye roll as he stuck his hand into her back pocket to draw their bodies closer together.
"You were being nice to someone other than me," Emma teased. "I never thought I'd see the day. But just think, on their wedding day they'll have you to thank for all that magic happening."
Elijah shuddered. “Remind me to never be nice to anyone ever again.”
He had no idea he had been pouting until she was flicking his lower lip with a grin. “We don’t have to sit through the entire wedding if you don’t want to.”
“How about we not go to the wedding at all?”


She trailed a finger down his collar bone before making a soft fist in the cotton fabric of his t-shirt. Elijah would have been downright lying if the sensation didn’t drive goose bumps to freckle his skin.
“But then we wouldn’t get to ditch halfway through and have our own party in the car.”
Elijah’s eyes widened, although his brows were lifting in curiosity. He had no idea Emma even had a side for dirty humor, but he definitely wasn’t objecting. Cupping her jaw gently, he leaned in close enough so their lips were brushing together, teeth catching the corner of her mouth playfully. “Are you insinuating that we’ll—”
“Have amazing car sex? Totally.”
“I’m not quite sure I’m used to this side of you, Ms. Ward.”
“Well get used to it,” she quipped, glancing over her shoulder simultaneously at the couple watching them from a few yards away. Elijah vaguely wondered if they had heard the entirety of their conversation, which would make for a justification he had absolutely zero energy for. Thankfully, the next thing that came out of Rylee’s mouth debunked his previous suspicions.

“Are we heading out or are you two love birds gonna continue sucking face?”

It was like the pot calling the kettle black.

[laura]

They were the lovebirds? Had Rylee hit his head against the tree trunk during his make-out session or what? If Emma was in the position to do half of the things she wanted to do with Elijah, then maybe then his statement might have been justified.

“Well,” She turned her angry glare onto Rylee. “If you two didn’t stop every ten minutes, then we would have gotten there by now. Forgive us for not wanting to watch you tongue wrestle.”
Beth shrugged her backpack higher onto her shoulders, a smug grin tugging at the corner of her lips. “Now, now, Emma… don’t be jealous.”
“Jealous?” Emma asked, dumb-founded.
“Yeah,” Rylee laughed, slinging his arm around Beth’s shoulders. “You won’t be the ones to get the double tent anymore.”
Elijah rolled his eyes. "Honestly, I could have lived my life without hearing that."

With her fingers latching around Elijah’s wrist, Emma tugged him ahead, her boots crushing the crisp bluebells without a second thought to how beautiful they were. “You are not taking our tent. Subject dropped. Let’s move on.”

Unfortunately for Emma, it wasn’t. The two of them continued to protest their right to the ‘couple’ associated things, like double beds, rooms, tents, anything. While Emma fumed, Elijah scoffed at them, laughing at the very idea of it. There was no way in hell either of them were going to sacrifice anything for the new couple, especially something that deprived them of sleeping next to one another.
This continued until they finally reached a thick, concrete wall, surrounding their destination.

Looking up the length of the wall, Emma dropped her bag from her back. “You think Hoffman’s trying to keep something out?”
“Or something in.” Beth contemplated, the toe of her boot knocking against the stone. “Remember what Darrius said? He’s hiding something.”
Sliding his own bag off, Elijah dropped to his knees, his hands burying deep into its contents. “Something important, too. Rylee, call Darrius and tell him where we are.”

Rylee tapped at his watch. “Already done. He’s sent over his whereabouts – and so have Sol and the others.”
“And?”
“According to this…” a map suddenly illuminated the small space between them. “…we’re at the back of the property. Darrius is at the front, though they have spread themselves out. The others have, too. Between us, we could surround the place.”
“Then that’s what we do.” Emma announced, pulling on a pair of modified leather gloves Rylee and Logan had made months back. They were the single, coolest thing Emma had ever seen. “I’ll walk along this side of the wall until I see someone – then I’m going over.”

She’d barely turned away before Elijah was reaching for her, his fingers entwining around hers and drawing her back into him. “Remember the plan?” He asked, his eyes an intense blue as their gazes locked.
Emma nodded. “We meet on the other side.”
“Do not enter the house without me.”
“I won’t.”
“Do not get shot.”
A smile threatened to take over. “I won’t.”

His lips connected with her forehead and she gripped at his shirt, a silent goodbye exchanged between them before she turned and left him. Aside from their own personal arrangements, the plan was clear – get in and, if possible, take out Hoffman and whatever else he’s hiding. Simple enough.
Not.
Even on the wrong side of the wall, Emma knew exactly what awaited them on the other side – a shit load of Triad members, ready to blow their heads off at any given moment. That, or chipped zombies.

Fun for everyone.

[Ange Keating]

Sometimes Elijah vaguely wondered how he was still standing. After being battered to the point of severe physical strain to the numerous emotional trials and tribulations that came with their goal of reversing Hoffman’s damage, he hadn’t thought he’d be able to carry on. Yet, with each and every day, he found himself pushing forward, all towards a goal that could very well back fire. There wasn’t a member of the group that didn’t believe they could lose their life at any moment, and yet still, they all charged forward, because turning back was an option out of the question. Elijah had already decided he’d rather die at his own hand than be a mindless robot, owned by the government. Still, there was a larger reason as to why he continued to push on through the arduous journey, and she was currently circling the other side of the highly-secure property, in as equally dangerous a situation as his.

He fought for the possibility that somehow they’d have a semblance of their old lives back, one that didn’t involve a constant chase. Jesus fucking Christ, he actually wanted to take her out somewhere for dinner without the constant overhanging fear of getting their brains blown out. Even though their love for each other was incredibly conspicuous, he still wanted to do the things that came with a relationship every once and awhile, something he would have never thought he’d hear himself admit.

For a man of his bank account and reputation, Elijah hadn’t expected him to live in a squalid house, still, the idea that this prick had actually built himself a castle in the middle of the woods pretty much screamed ‘Hey! I’m a douche!’ His thoughts were only disconnected by the sound of a voice being fed into his ear, Darrius’ impatience growing.

“Where the hell are you guys? We can’t linger around the perimeter for long. Guards are still patrolling!”
“And they’ll hear you if you keep screaming into a microphone,” Elijah hissed lowly, crouching into a branch when a group of three men, all dressed up in guns strolled along the grass, one carrying a soda can. For a moment, the trio paused, an older man, with silver-gray hair clutching his revolver as his eyes zoned in on the thicket of vegetation. Elijah could feel his heart momentarily slow.

“Did you hear that?” He questioned, traipsing towards the wall, although he was still several yards away.”
“Probably an animal or something,” another piped up with an indifferent shrug. His body was much too wide to be able to run or do anything overtly physical efficiently, what looked like grease stains smudging his uniform. So this is the ‘best-of-the-best’ Hoffman employed? Elijah could have laughed if he wouldn’t be risking his hidden position. Although, he somehow got the notion he wouldn’t remain hidden for long.
“Well let me at least go check it out.”

Instantly, Elijah felt like he was stuffed in between a rock and a hard place. He could have darted, or he could have tried to utilize his position in the bushes in hopes the officer wouldn’t find him. Although, due to the fact Elijah was more of a fight than flight sort of guy and didn’t like allowing situations to fester, he waited until the man was approximately five feet away before removing his gun, leaping from the undergrowth and releasing a bullet to his head. For a moment, time went ridiculously slow – the guard with the coke dropping it on the ground in bafflement while his partner leaped into action, removing his handgun from the holster.

“Freeze!” he shouted.
As if.

In two minutes no less, Elijah was dragging three lifeless bodies into the foliage he had hidden in, wiping the crimson fluid from his hands onto the dark fabric of his pants. He thought that killing people would be an impossibly difficult feat, but when it came to survival, it felt as if his humane side was switched off completely. Elijah preferred it that way.

“I’m on my way,” Elijah muttered lowly into the ear piece before dashing full speed around the barrier. It shouldn’t be too long before the stench overwhelmed the air, signaling more law enforcement their way.

[/font][/font]

[laura]

With the help of her modified gloves, Emma scaled the wall with ease; the leather stuck to the marble like a magnet, her boots taking advantage of every crack or hole the stone had to offer. She nearly found it all too easy; at least until she reached the top, only to hear the chatter of the guards on the other side, discussing their hideous sexual encounters with what sounded like chipped women. It took all the strength she had not to jump down and slaughter the sick bastards. Instead, Emma settled on mentally picturing all the ways she’d make them suffer if given the chance – one of which included a castration – and hitched her legs over the ledge, slipping soundlessly onto an outstretched tree branch.

It shook slightly under her weight, making the men pause to look up. They were quick to blame a bird before continuing with their vile conversation. To think that the women of the new age America didn’t have it bad enough, what with losing their minds and all, now they were being subjected to pleasing Triad scum. It physically made her skin crawl.

Gripping the trunk, Emma slid down it, her gloves aiding the drop. The guards were so engrossed with themselves, that they didn’t see her peer through the trees at them, noting their appearance for future reference before skulking off.

Unfortunately for Emma, Zia was the first person she came across. The short brunette was standing over an unconscious guard, unhooking his gun from its holder and any other weapons he happened to have.
She sneered some sarcastic comment in Emma’s direction, quickly followed by a snarky, “Don’t even think about following me.”
“With pleasure.” She scoffed in return.

When Zia vanished into the foliage, Elijah’s voice beeped into her ear, instantly making her forget about the hateful little woman. She pressed her back to the nearest tree, facing away from the pathway that winded through the gardens and answered him.
“Are you over the wall yet?”

Only silence sounded over the line for a long, drawn-out ten seconds before his reply came.
“Over.” There was a noticeable chirp to his tone, which Emma knew, meant he was smiling.
Despite her current situation, a ghost of a smile curled at her own lips, as well.

A heavy grunt echoed first to the right of her, then quickly to the left, followed by the eerie hum of nature; birds tweeted merrily from their nests, the whisper of leaves acting as a gentle lullaby, welcoming in the night. For a second, Emma doubted that she’d heard the grunts at all. Then, as if in unison, Elijah and Darrius stepped into the open, one on either side of her.

Emma opened her mouth, only to have Darrius shh her with an abrupt hand wave. He shook his head, signalling behind him with one hand and pointing to the pathway with the other. They weren’t alone.

Elijah touched her cheek in greeting, and then exchanged a series of facial movements with Darrius that had her rolling her eyes. They understood what the other was saying just by a flick of an eyebrow, all the while she was stood between them, utterly clueless as to what it was they were planning.

Too late to ask.
As quickly as he’d appeared, Darrius disappeared again. This time heading for the pathway.

What the hell? What did he plan on doing – walking up to the house and politely knocking on the front door? Moron. He’d get a bullet in his back the second his feet touched the cobbles.

Emma turned to shoot Elijah a ’what the fuck?’ look. He tapped at his lips and nodded, urging her to watch the retreating man.

That’s when she heard it.
The foreign and nearly forgotten sound of a child’s laughter rang through the air; a noise of pure happiness, coming from a young girl as she skipped carelessly toward a waiting Darrius. With her doll swinging at her side, she barely slowed down in time, knocking into his legs as he stepped out to block her course.
She couldn’t have been any older than six, her blonde pigtails swaying across her shoulders.

“Hello, darling.” Darrius smiled softly.

[Ange Keating]

“Are you fucking serious?” Jenna growled under her breath from not too far away. “Are we really holding a six year-old hostage?” It had been an all new low, even for Elijah, but both he and Darrius had promised to the other that no harm would come her way. She was simply a catalyst into the house – the only way they could get through without being showered in a rainstorm of bullets. They would handle the kid delicately, so much so she wouldn’t feel the slightest bit frightened. Before Darrius’ stint in a high-security prison, he had played the guitar at a local elementary, and was more than efficient in the area of child care.

“Hi!” she exclaimed, grinning up at the much taller man brightly, seemingly unaware of the sweat and grime that shrouded his skin, along with the group of people, all armed, that stood not too far away. Elijah almost couldn’t believe that such a girl could come from someone so utterly bitter, but he decided not to let his thoughts dwell on it. Instead, he touched the handgun tucked into the waistband of his pants, t-shirt concealing it.

“Could you do me a favor?”
The girl batted her eyelashes up at him, nodding brightly. “Oh, okay!”
“Could you bring your father to the front door, please? Make sure he’s alone.”
“Taking advantage of a little girl who sees the world with rose-colored glasses; awesome,” Jenna continued to grumble, meriting a hard glare from Sol.
“Are you really worrying about a six year old over the well being of mankind?” she hissed.
Elijah raised a hand to silence them, just in time to anticipate what the little girl would say next. However, instead of the expected response, she shook her head. “Daddy’s not home right now. He’s been gone for a few days.”

Seemingly quick on his feet, Darrius only smiled. “Well could I see your mommy then? This is very important.”
Again, a heavy silence filled the air, before she was shrugging. “Okay! I’ll get her.”

Once the little girl was back through the large doors, Darrius turned to face the group once more, Jenna hardly satisfied.
“So what the hell are we going to do when the mother gets out here? She’s not the one we need to talk to.”
Elijah opened his mouth to respond, but truly didn’t have an answer, predominantly due to the fact that he didn’t know what the hell Darrius had planned outside of Hoffman.
“But she sure is hell is a large piece to locating Hoffman. After all, she’s his wife and the mother of his child. I’m sure she knows something.”
“Well, let’s say that she comes outside. What are we going to do about the little girl? Have her watch as we force answers out of her mother? It’s not like we can get the information we need without asserting ourselves as dominant.”
“And unlike the child, the mother will definitely know that something is wrong when she sees us. We’re supposed to be fucking robots technically, so there’s absolutely no reason why she wouldn’t tell her leech of guards to apprehend us.”

These were all points Elijah hadn’t taken into consideration and as he attempted a response once again, Emma cut him off with the words he had been meaning to get out. “We’re done being nice here. If we have to grab her and go, we will. Sacrificing the temporary happiness of a six year old is a small price to pay in comparison to the millions of families ripped apart; the millions of lives lost, or converted into shells of themselves. We’ll safely return her, after we figure out the destination of Hoffman.”

Darrius nodded in response just as the front door swung open again, a tall, slender woman with a tired face, and powder blonde hair standing directly next to her daughter.

[laura]

With one look at her dishevelled, unfriendly guests, the woman spun on her heels, throwing her daughter through the doorway with one hard shove and shooting her a harsh, whispered command. The little girl stumbled, then disappeared in to the house.

Emma stepped forward to stand behind Darrius, her gaze locked onto the blond.

When she turned to face them, her fingers were fisted at her sides, her knuckles white.
“Who are you? What are you doing here?” She snapped, her gaze darting between their faces. “You’ve made a very foolish mistake.”
“We’re here for your husband,” Darrius answered. “I don’t suppose he’s home, is he?”
Her jaw visibly tightened, but she didn’t offer them a reply.

Beth raised her chin to the air. “The surprise of seeing normal, non-chipped people in her garden has obviously left her without the power of speech.”
“We could make her talk.” Sol suggested with a grin.
Emma folded her arms across her chest. “That could be momentarily entertaining.”
That seemed to spark the woman’s interest. “And you think it would be that simple?” She asked, brow cocked. “I’m not sure how you managed to get in here, but I can guarantee that you won’t be leaving.”

At her final word, the trees and bushes around them rustled. And then, everything went to hell pretty quickly.

Each member of the group darted off in different directions, either running for cover or aiming for a guard. They seemed to appear from everywhere, guards clad in the usual black gear, the Triad insignia visible across their chests. They really were like cockroaches; you killed one, and three more took its place. It was never ending! Sure, they’d known that breaking into Hoffman’s personal home (that also housed his secret family) wasn’t going to be an easy mission to complete, but they hadn’t counted on this many guards.
Where the hell were they all appearing from?!

Emma looked around her, her eyes finally settling on to the slender blond. She was smiling, the same cold curl of her lips that Henry Hoffman pulled off so well. There were no differences between them; this woman revelled in other people’s pain as much as her husband did. Their poor, unsuspecting child. What hope did she have, with parents as fucked up as hers?

Anyone who looked at Emma knew the answer to that one.

With her hand resting on the knife hidden within her jacket, Emma stepped forward, her intentions clear. She was going to get answers out of the dizzy blond, or introduce the blade to her stomach – either way, it was a win-win situation.

Despite her determination, she paused to seek out Elijah. When it came to him, everything (and she meant everything) dwarfed in comparison; nothing else mattered, as long as he was safe.

Only, he wasn’t.
Pinned to the ground by two hulking men, one holding a gun to the back of his skull…

All at once, Emma saw red, and adrenaline kicked in. She tore her knife from within the confines of her leather jacket and darted up the stairs toward the startled blond.
“Get her!” She screamed, a millisecond before she found the chill of Emma’s blade pressed to her throat, silencing her.

Positioning herself at the woman’s back, she pushed her toward the steps, urging her into the garden. “Enough!” She cried. “Drop your fucking guns, or I slit Mrs Hoffman’s throat from ear to ear.”
The Triad men instantly stilled, their focus set on the scene unfolding before them.
Emma pointed her free hand at the men holding Elijah down. “Get off him. Now.”

[Ange Keating]

All it had taken was one misstep, one millisecond of attempting to make sure the other members were out of harm’s way from the plethora of guards barreling in, in every direction. He felt the impact with unexpected intensity, the barrel of a gun being shoved against the temple of his skull. Elijah had endured way too many near-death experiences to truly acknowledge this one, and if he were to pull the trigger, the only thing that mattered to the agent was the well being of the red head swept up in the instant battle. As his eyes connected with hers though with every intention to take out the people surrounding her before he inevitably met his end, he was surprised to see a dagger pressed against Mrs. Hoffman’s throat, malice burning in her eyes. Subsequently, the men were off of him, leaving Elijah to blink around him in surprise.

Was it weird to feel wildly attracted to her right now? That was his girl. Smirking in pure disbelief, he pushed himself up to his feet, regaining possession of his handgun as he aimed it at anyone that got too close. Obviously they wouldn’t be retrieving the information they needed easily, which, in all honesty, fucking sucked, but they’d retrieve it somehow. Even if they had to lay out every person on that terrace in order to obtain the answers they needed. Physically, there was only so much more their battered bodies could endure. They couldn’t afford to drag this out any longer; not when they weren’t in touch with any licensed medics that could actually tend to their impending wounds. No matter how much Elijah pushed to get his body back into optimal shape, even he couldn’t work miracles without taking the time to let his growing injuries heal.

“Now that we’re done with the unnecessary bullshit that undoubtedly wasted both our time and yours, we can move on to more significant things, such as the location of your husband.” The woman flinched and Emma thrust the blade deeper, a line of blood, as thin as a hair, sliding down her porcelain skin. Her cerulean orbs only brightened, as if this were all some highly entertaining game.

It had happened quickly after that, Mrs. Hoffman forcibly jutting her head backwards against Emma to momentarily daze her, before grabbing the blade that had once been in the red head’s possession and turning it on her. “Did you honestly think I was some bored housewife, a damsel in distress waiting on her husband to protect her?” She laughed bitterly. “No, sweetheart.”

Suddenly, Elijah flew into action, narrowly dodging the pathway of guards as he sprinted across the courtyard. However, his journey had been relatively short lived before another hoard of individuals, dressed in black snatched him at every possible limb they could grab onto him before subduing him to the ground. In frantic desperation, a desperation he had never felt in his life, he screamed out. “You don’t want her! Take me, take me!”

“We can work this out!” Beth shouted from within the hold of another guard.

The woman snickered devilishly, and right then, Elijah understood why she had fallen in love with the new president. They were both fucked up to a point of no return.

“Work this out? What do you think this is, a democracy? Although, I do have to admit I quite enjoy the resiliency this group has shown. I’ll tell you what—” she tapped a manicured nail to her lip playfully “—I’ll give you all a choice. A, I could have you all transported to the closest clinic to insert the chips you should have gotten already, or B, I could have you all executed right here, right now. Certainly better than a chip, don’t you think? Although, I suppose it’s a personal preference thing.”

“This is fucking insane!” Elijah shouted, in spite of Beth’s reprimanding looks. “Let us go.”

The blonde ordered several guards over to Emma as she slowly moved the knife away from her stomach, eyes gazing directly on the young agent’s. “You’re a brave one, speaking up to me like that,” she mused, traversing the lawn in a surprisingly delicate fashion, in spite of her heels. Then, hooking a finger underneath his jaw as several men held onto his arms, her rosy lips quirked upwards again. “And cute, too. I wonder if Mr. Hoffman would be upset if I kept you all to myself.” He jerked his jaw away, glaring at her violently. “Oh! That’s not what you want, is it?”

“I would rather grab that dagger and turn it on myself rather than submit to you,” Elijah near growled before he was directing his attention to Emma, in order to make sure she was okay. The red head was thrashing furiously against the firm grip of heavily-clad men, keeping her pinned on her knees.

Instantly, Mrs. Hoffman followed his line of vision, before her eyes were widening slightly, mischief dancing in them. “Even better, you have a thing for Little Miss Red over there, don’t you?” She scoffed slightly, before directing the guards to practically man handle him onto the porch, so that he was yards away from his girlfriend. The blonde was standing in front of him again, fingers caressing his stubble affectionately.

“Hmm,” she breathed, lips brushing against his. “I’ve always enjoyed my men rough.” Then, glancing backwards at Emma, she turned back at him to draw their mouths together milliseconds later, hands moving to knot in his hair. “Sorry, little red. I may have to steal him from you,” she sighed before nipping on his lower lip. Elijah would have bucked against her, shoved her away with all of his might if he could, but feeling the iron grasp of several men on him didn’t present him with the opportunity.

[laura]

Emma took all of two seconds to try to control her building rage; her whole body shook with the force of it, her heart beat frantically in her ears, stronger than she’d ever heard it before. There were many occasions in Emma’s life where she’d felt pure, undiluted anger toward someone else, but right then, in that moment, she’d never hated anyone more than the blond fawning over Elijah. Every single brush of her lips or fingers against his skin drove her down deeper.

Who would have thought… a year ago, seeing another woman hang on Elijah like a cheap coat did nothing to faze her, but now there was nothing that set her off more.
Elijah was hers; every look, every kiss and every touch belonged solely to her, not this woman or any other. And for touching what was hers, Emma was going to make her pay. Severely.

Her hands fisted, the bare tips of her fingers scrapping at her leather clad palms.
The gloves!
Realisation struck her like a lightening bolt. The gloves that Rylee and Lucas had put together were amazing things, surely they did more than just help the wearer scale a wall. With that thought in mind, Emma looked to the floor, away from the blond and her wandering hands, and stroked her fingers against the smooth material, hoping to feel something beneath the surface.

Come on… She willed a button to appear, a switch, anything; hope and desperation driving her to continue even when defeat felt eminent.
When nothing happened, Emma let out a cry of frustration. She wasn’t a weak and powerless person, but she sure as hell felt like one now, pinned down like a dog, watching her man get man handled by another woman.
She punched out at the guard to her right, but with his iron hold locked onto her forearm, it didn’t do much. Her gaze burned up into his bearded face, the hatred burning there enough to make him shift on his feet uncomfortably. “I’m going to watch you burn.” Emma hissed.

Abruptly, he screamed at her last word, his hold on her dropping as he frantically tore at the jumper covering his stomach – the same spot that Emma had just pathetically punched. “My skin!” He screamed.
“Emma!” Rylee’s voice suddenly burst out from across the garden. She blinked and turned to the young man. Despite the guards attempt to silence him with a hard backhand, Rylee continued. “The gloves are voice activated!”

Emma looked from the screaming guard to her leather clad hands. Voice activated…? Wait. Going over her last words in her mind, realisation dawned. Burn! She told the man she was going to watch him burn! And now she was.

Well, would you look at that.

Without a second’s hesitation, Emma used her free hand to strike. Her fist connected with a crotch, the heat emitting off the glove nothing but a gentle warmth for her, but anyone or anything that came into contact with them were in for a painful scolding. Rylee really was a genius. A moronic genius.

Twisting her body, Emma slid a gun from a guard’s holster, shooting him and three of his fellow men in the face with it, one after another. They dropped to the floor, along with the sizzling remains of the gun. Her move on the men sparked the same movement within the rest of the group, all of which (minus Elijah) were now fighting back against their captures. Lucas’ voice rang out loudly as Emma’s sights locked onto Mrs Hoffman.
“Down!”

A small, black grenade rolled across the grass, three seconds before a cloud of thick smoke burst out from it, instantly veiling their surroundings in white.

This was it. This was the last move of the plan; Lucas would be letting off two more and anyone who could make an escape would. Which meant she didn’t have much time. Blindly, she rushed through the smoke, slamming her burning glove into any face that came close to her.
“Elijah!” She called out, eyes darting frantically through the impenetrable fog. What if that crazy bitch had something to him? So help her if she had. Emma would burn her up like a match stick if she so much as scratched him.

“Looking for me?”
Emma turned just in time to narrowly dodge the edge of a blade. It tore through the air, scrapping the tip of her nose, her reflexes not quite quick enough to miss it completely. The second time, however, she was more than ready for it. The blond jumped at her, knife raised high above her head. Emma caught at her wrist, slamming her elbow into the woman’s face in a precise movement, forcing her to stumble backwards, knife clattering to the floor.

Emma’s rage was white hot inside her chest, the images of the blond pressing her lips up against Elijah’s replaying against and again inside her mind.

Ducking, Emma retrieved the abandoned knife from the floor, missing a swing of the woman’s fist as she did.
“You think a he’ll be content with someone like you? A man like that needs a woman to please him, not a – “
Her words flashed up deeply disturbing pictures within Emma’s head, worse than the kiss she’d already had to witness…

No!

She moved faster than her thoughts could follow; her body colliding into the blond, the blade of the knife sinking deeply into her stomach.
“Wrong move, bitch,” Emma seethed into her ear. “No-one touches my man but me.”

[Ange Keating]

Elijah had only registered the fact that the dagger was soon being driven into Ms. Hoffman’s stomach for half a second at most, before realizing the shit storm that surrounded them. They were greatly outnumbered, and now that the blonde was sprawled haphazardly on the porch, eyes wide open and glazed over with the opaqueness that came with death, it had only set things into high gear. Soon guards were screaming in both fury and fear, Elijah attempting to take out as many as he possibly could with his gun alone.

“Let’s GO!” A voice that sounded like Darrius’ screamed, a storm of gun shots following as Elijah grabbed Emma’s wrist, weaving through the flying bullets, one skinning him on the thigh as he winced but kept on moving. They had no time to carefully scale a wall with their gloves; not when there were bullets narrowly missing their heads. Nah; they’d have to jump and hope for the best. He knew the wall hadn’t been that tall, but falling on an ankle awkwardly could slow them down.

He had made sure Emma was well ahead of him as they approached the stone gates, hoisting her up by the feet so she could latch onto the top of the wall and swing her body over. Only, she remained perched at the top, extending a hand towards him. “I’m not leaving without you, Elijah,” she hissed. Peering over his shoulder at the guards that were quickly traversing the field, he violently waved her off.

“Emma, GO! I’m coming,” he demanded, as if fate depended on it. As if her getting to safety was the center of his universe right now. And it was. And Elijah wouldn’t accept her damn rhetoric. She looked as if she wanted to open her mouth protest, but he was directing his gun at an approaching woman, nailing her directly in the chest. “Get out of here.”

She was swinging her other leg over the wall, even though she momentarily turned to look him. Elijah contemplated shoving her over if it meant shelter. “If you’re not down here in two minutes—”

“I will be! You just have to trust me, and make sure everyone else is alright when they get over to the other side--”

“Two minutes,” she repeated, like everything he had just said went in one ear and completely out the other. “If you’re not on the other side in two minutes, I’m coming right back up.”

His jaw tightened but he nodded firmly. “Go.

She was then jumping down the side, leaving Elijah to glance back at the scene before him. Sol, Jenna, Zia, Rylee, Beth, and Dom were already leaping over the stone enclosure from the far western side, leaving just Darrius at the heart of the field, taking out as many guards as he possibly could. Without a moment’s hesitation, he was dashing right back across the lawn, sending a bullet directly through the occipital lobe of a guard quickly approaching the other man, his body crumpling to the grass.

Their eyes connected at that very moment, a silent message of understanding passing between them. There were seven more security members in which they took out instantly, Darrius leaping towards him with a wince of discomfort. “What about the girl?” he questioned, dark orbs connecting with the lifeless corpse of Ms. Hoffman on the patio. “What are we going tell her?”

“We can’t leave her in there,” Elijah agreed.

“But if we take her, then what the hell are we going to do with her?”

Trying to even out his breathing, he felt the surge of an idea overwhelm him, pointing his handgun towards the entrance. “We take her as hostage.”
“Taking a goddamn six year old as hostage? That’s harsh.”

“Which one’s the lesser of two evils? Walking outside to see your mother in a bloody heap along with several dozen corpses on the terrace, or shelter with a group of strangers that promise her no harm?”

“It’s risky, Eli.”

“We have no other options here.”

Sharply exhaling in defeat, he shrugged. “I’ll go get her. You stand by the door in case she tries to run.”

He nodded in agreement, eyes scanning the, now quieted lawn with mild apprehension. “Hurry. If there’s one thing we’ve learned, underestimating Hoffman has never worked in our favor. He’s probably installed hundreds of cameras throughout the place, and is now arranging for an attack larger than you, or me, or any of us.”

Darrius shrugged, already stepping into the parlor. “If it’s a war he wants, it’s a war he’ll get.”

[laura]

There were precisely seven seconds to spare when Elijah appeared over the wall; not a millisecond too soon as far as Emma was concerned. The moment his feet connected with the grass, she was on him, her arms wrapping around his neck, hugging him to her tightly. It was only when she tried to breathe, did Emma realise that he was squeezing her as tightly as she was him. “You idiot,” Her words were muffled against his neck. “Why didn’t you come with me?”

Darrius dropped beside them, his arrival warranting a string of gasps. “We had something to pick up first.”

She drew back from Elijah and gaped at the small girl locked onto Darrius like a monkey, her face buried into his shoulder, hiding herself away.

Zia stepped forward. “Darrius, what the hell…?”

With his arms tightening around the girls back, Darrius shrugged. “I know, Z, but we had to.”
“No, you didn’t. You could have left her there, where Hoffman would have come to get her!”
“Not before she’d seen her mother, Z. It’s not good for a child.”

Emma looked to the floor at that.

Zia pointed to the wall, her expression a storm of fury and impatience. “Put the girl back. Now, Darrius.”
Wrapping his arm around Emma’s shoulders, Elijah started forward. “We’re not going to do that.” Which was his polite way of saying, ‘conversation over’.

Not that Zia was having any of it.
When Darrius followed suit behind them, the rest of the group doing the same, Zia jogged ahead, blocking their path, with her arms outstretched. “I am not kidding around here, Darrius.”

Sol sniggered. “Is this the part when you tell him he’s never getting laid again, unless he does what you want? Cliché, much?”
Zia ignored her, instead glaring at her husband with building anger. “I don’t know what you expect, sweetheart. I’m not about to throw her back over the wall, and to be honest, we don’t have time to stand here and argue about it. We need to get out of –“
“Are you trying to get us killed?!” Zia fumed. “Like Hoffman doesn’t already want us all butchered, now we have his daughter.”
“I’m not afraid of him, Z.”
“Neither am I, but I don’t – “

Emma dropped her head back and released a deep sigh. She was bored of this shit now and frustrated with the sound of Zia’s moaning, whinny little voice. Seriously, what did it matter if they had Hoffman’s little blond spawn as their prisoner? He already hungered for their blood with a burning passion and now that Emma had intentionally killed his wife (or girlfriend, or mistress, or whatever the hell she was) that would only be magnified. As long as they were pushing his buttons, they may as well do it properly. “What’s the big deal? It’s only a kid. We can work with this.”

Darrius carried on, waving the others to follow. “Emma’s right. Relax.”

Zia stood there, dumbfounded as her husband breezed passed her. Rylee made a point of patting her lightly on the shoulder, a move that only seemed to fan the flames. As Emma and Elijah moved passed her, she spun, her slender fingers locking around Emma’s wrist. “You,” She growled. “You stupid, fucking idiot. Were you born without a brain or what!?” Dropping her hold, Zia gave a patronising flick to Emma’s forehead. “You stuffed a knife in Hoffman’s wife. And why? Because she gave your boyfriend a hard-on.”

No one stopped at Zia’s outburst but Emma. Elijah noticeably slowed and Beth glanced over her shoulder – they were both listening.

When Zia made a move to touch her again, Emma was quick to slap her hand away. “What did you just say?”
“I think it would take a lot less than half a dozen guards to force Elijah to cheat on you, love. Now, thanks to your temper, Hoffman is going to be gunning for us. Well, you know what? I hope they get you first.”

“Zia!” Darrius called. “Enough. Move it – now.”

With a shake of her head, her short black hair spiking from the movement, Zia did as she was told; but not without shooting Emma one last glare. “We’d be better off without you.”

[Ange Keating]

As he listened to the fight, Elijah tried to be as diplomatic as he could, to control his emotions and exercise every ounce of self restraint he had so that he wouldn’t completely lose his mind over Zia’s commentary. As much as he wanted to start something, he was trying considerably more nowadays to keep his composure and not react on instinct alone.

“Can we just stop this?” Elijah shouted, loud enough for his voice to be thoroughly heard. “We’re supposed to be a goddamn unit!”

For the most part everyone quieted, and he used this opportunity to reach for Emma, dragging her close to his body. Because even though he knew good and well she was fully capable of taking care of herself and dealing with BS, he couldn’t help but remind her that he cared, and that was all that mattered. At the end of the day, she was the only one he truly gave a fuck about; the one that he didn’t mind consistently reassuring of the fact. “Hey,” he murmured lowly, “Don’t listen to her.” He bumped her shoulder in a manner that was almost playful in hopes that it would lighten the mood, although nowadays with everything that was going on, genuine bliss was hard to produce.

Her dark orbs remained averted forward, nodding firmly. “I’m not, and never will.”

~~~

For the umpteenth time, they were taking cover again, finding shelter in an abandoned supermarket on the very outskirts of the forest. The dirt road that lined it was long and daunting, stretching into the rosy horizon as mountains curtained the scenery. It was a country trail, completely different from the Urban metropolis that comprised of The Underground. Sometimes Elijah vaguely wondered if it was still in its devastated condition, simply a shell of what it used to be.

The group eventually broke off from within the supermarket, Darrius taking the little girl to the line of bathrooms while Zia followed behind dismally. Beth had grabbed Emma as soon as they entered into the convenience store, much to the confusion of Elijah although he immediately shrugged it off as girl business before making his own slow stroll to a vacant bathroom near the dairy section.

The windows were cracked and broken, dark red fluid streaking the linoleum as he grimaced in disgust. Someone had put up a struggle, only to lose the fight.

He tugged up the cotton fabric of his t-shirt, assessing the bandage that wrapped around his torso. It had been a quick way to stop the bleeding, although it did nothing for his sore ribs. They had to still be fractured with all the stress he had put on them and would only continue to get worse until he treated them properly with the most powerful cure one could utilize – rest.

And that, was unobtainable.

Even though they slept, it was never for long periods of time. Even if he dosed off, he couldn’t remain that way for long, the weight of what was actually going on residing on his shoulders. Elijah knew this wasn’t his fault, but for some reason, he had taken it entirely upon himself to figure out something for the group, to help them towards their collective goal.

Even though it was slowly, yet surely starting to wear him down mentally and physically. So much so, it came to an intensity that even the military hadn’t quite trained him on. They were constantly jumping through loops, fighting for their lives, and one day of even the slightest laziness could be the day that costs them their lives, or brains, to the government.

With North America quickly manifesting into a dystopia, Elijah had to steadily depend on his willpower, and the drive, above everything else, to fight for a revolution.

Even if it killed him.

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