"Have you ever held a gun before?"

As the words left my mouth, my hands tossed the heavy metal pistol to Silas, who stood a few feet away. We'd found that the abandoned warehouse was concealed by a small forest similar to Falls, but not nearly as vast. My stomach twisted with a mixture of emotions, but among all: excitement. The monster within me I'd let remain dormant was now awake, ready to fight.

Silas caught the gun clumsily, gulping as his wide eyes stared down at it. He licked his lips and shook his head. "A water gun, yeah."

Rolling my eyes, I stepped towards him and took the gun back from his hands. "Never mind. I don't need you shooting me by accident."

I'd said it jokingly, but he narrowed his eyes, his jaw clenched, unmistakable anger seeping through his expression. "You keep underestimating me, and it's getting a little annoying."
His voice was deeper than usual as his eyes refused to meet mine. My stomach twisted at his words. I sighed and stepped back, tucking the weapon back into my belt. My hands reached for my mother's switchblade; the cold metal handle sent shivers down my spine.

"I just don't want to take any chances." I averted my gaze and held the knife out for him to take. Tentatively, he wrapped his hand around the handle, his features softening. "Just stay close, and if we run into someone, please don't start blabbering."

This time, Silas's lips turned up into a soft smile. He nodded and slipped the switchblade into his jacket, standing up straighter once he was ready.

"What do you think we'll find?" he asked, excitement swirling in his green eyes.

"A lot of times, these buildings look like office buildings. Factories. Warehouses. But inside, it's a whole other world. If there's anyone here, it'll be hard to get in unseen." My eyes were on my feet as they avoided the twigs and branches strewn about the ground, studying the dirt for signs of signs or wires. Silas kept up with me, his arm brushing against mine, providing a strange sense of comfort.

Once the silhouette of a building came into view about half a mile away, I stopped in my tracks. I stared down at the ground, kicking aside the dark brown dirt. To my left and right were large oak trees, and we stood directly in between them. The compass on my watch said that we were directly South of the building.

Silas crouched down next to me, where I was moving aside the dry dirt with my hands, my eyebrows knit together in frustration. "What are you looking for? Did you drop something?"

I answered his question with one of my own. "Is there a red mark on the big tree to our right?"

I felt him shift next to me as he turned to look. "Yeah, like a circle."

My hands continued to sift through the dirt until finally, I found the red painted line that extended about two feet towards the two trees. My heart skipped a beat.

Silas peered over my shoulder and reached his hand out to touch the ground. "What is that?"

"Half-mile markings. We used them for field training. There's one North, East, South, and West of each building, and the circles on the trees are from arrows." The words left my mouth mindlessly as I subconsciously ventured over to the large tree, feeling the tarnished bark with my cold fingers. Archery was always my favorite, and even as I stood there, I could imagine a younger ghost of myself standing a few feet away, struggling to hold the large bow in her hands, her mother laughing and supporting her arms from behind.

"So this is definitely G.O.L.D.?" Silas asked, snatching me out of my trance. The ghosts dissipated into the cold evening's air.

Nodding, I placed my hands lightly on his arms, searching his eyes for concern or regret, but only found more excitement. His smile fell.

"Silas," I started, licking my dry lips, "you can still turn around. This is going to be dangerous, and this is your last chance to leave. You can still get out of this mess." My words held passion, a feeling I'd expressed very rarely. I wasn't sure what came over me, but then, my heart filled with both hope that he would leave, and for some reason, a strange hope that he wouldn't.

He smiled softly and his gaze flitted to the building and back at me. His eyes were similar to the leaves of the forest, but were home to vicarious gold stars and ribbons.

"It would be smart of me to leave, wouldn't it?"

His words were solemn, but held traces of humor. I nodded slowly. His chest rose and fell as he took a deep breath, parting his pink lips to speak.

"Then I guess I'm pretty dumb." He chuckled and shrugged away from my grasp, something in his demeanor shifting. His smile fell, and he dug his hands deep into his pockets, his eyes full of what could only be described as hurt.

"But Zara, don't worry. If I do leave you, I'll be sure to say goodbye first."

Confusion swallowed my mind for a few seconds and I stumbled back, feeling a storm of guilt brewing in my stomach. Each word pierced my heart when I realized what he'd meant. The day that I left him at Julia Knight's house, I'd sneaked out before saying goodbye to Silas. It wasn't something I'd given much thought to since then.

Rendered speechless, I merely nodded and brushed past him, loathing the stupid monster of guilt and regret that continued to eat up my mind. After about ten minutes of walking in silence, taking careful measures to watch our step, and studying the trees around for any guards, we ended up right in front of the warehouse, the five-story tall building towering over us. What I hadn't noticed from far away were the shaded parts of the off-white building, representing marks of burns and soot. Now that we were closer, we saw that the East end of the building was destructed, inhabitable.

The lack of security, traps, and life signified that the building was abandoned. And judging from the footsteps still fathomable in the dirt, it was recent. Maybe only a week ago.

But we still had to be cautious. Danger always lurked around, even in an abandoned place.

I slung my backpack off my shoulder and pulled out a device that was about as big as a cell phone. Praying that it would turn on, I pressed the button on the side. Numbers flickered to life on the screen, and I continued pressing a series of them as Silas watched me curiously.

"Is that a technology radar?" he whispered, eyes wide with fascination.

I nodded, focusing on the screen. "Yes. It'll let us know if there's electricity being transmitted in the air. That way, we'll know if there's anyone inside or if they have any security channels through this backdoor."

The device beeped quietly, signifying that it had found nothing. I pursed my lips and threw it back into my backpack before slinging it around my shoulders once again.

"I think it's abandoned," I expressed my theories to Silas, who was still oddly quiet by my side. "Stay close, watch my back, and nudge me if you see anything."

I'd never needed anyone to watch my back before, and I certainly didn't need him now, but I felt like I owed it to him to make him feel useful.

The backdoor was set up clad with a hand-scanner, retina scanner, and ID swipe. Multi-factor authentication. All three devices were dead. The door was slightly ajar, the space it revealed emitting an eerie type of aura. I closed my eyes, listening for something. Anything. Footsteps, the buzzing of machines or computers, creaking of floors. There was nothing.

With Silas behind me, I pushed the door open with my elbow, my hands both gripping the handle of my pistol, which was brought up next to my cheek. It swung open quietly, revealing a small area with double glass doors and more authentication devices, all of which were turned off. The cameras either side of the ceiling were destroyed. In the corner: dried blood splattered across the clean white wall, but no body. I kept my arms extended in front of me, walking slowly into the small room, with Silas creeping in right behind me. My heartbeats fell into a natural rhythm, the blood coursing through my veins feeling alive. Intoxicated with endorphins.

My body was in an intense form of concentration, so when Silas jumped behind me, I couldn't help but turn around and take a knee to the ground, aiming at whatever it was that he had seen, an arm outstretched and blocking Silas. But there was nothing.

"I thought I saw something..." he explained sheepishly, rubbing the nape of his neck, "It was just a rat."

I gritted my teeth in annoyance and stood up, closing the distance between us. My narrowed eyes bore into his wide and nervous ones as I stood so close that our chests were almost touching. I dug my long fingernail into his chest, feeling his heart beat wildly underneath my touch, my other hand holding my gun between us. This reaction was natural; I didn't mean to snap, but it was who I was.

He peered down at me through large eyes framed by unnecessarily long eyelashes, and my stone heart softened for a split second.

"This is not a joke. You'll get us both killed." I drew out each word, speaking slowly so that he understood the magnitude of his stupidity.

Instead of stumbling back, apologizing, or even being scared, his hand reached up and took my finger, which was still digging into his chest. Without unlatching his eyes from mine, he undid my fist with his fingers and intertwined them with his slowly, watching my expression soften with each one. We stood with intertwined hands, breathing falling into the same rhythm, a gun between our chests, eyes speaking unsaid words, all amidst imminent danger and confusion.

"I'll stay here. Please be careful." Silas closed his eyes tight, and I was a little grateful that I was no longer looking at them. His voice was soft, but not defeated, as he leaned in and placed a lingering kiss on my forehead. My body erupted with a feeling so foreign as the passion in our presence posed a greater threat than reality.

He finally understood me, but not in the way that I wanted him to, nor in the way that everyone else did. He took my anger, my fury, and undid it with simply his touch. And nothing was more terrifying.

I stood frozen as he dropped his hand from mine, leaving it cold once again, and retreated to the corner of the room. He kept the blade I'd given him in his hand and hid behind what seemed to be several overturned and emptied filing cabinets. I turned slowly on my heels after he gave me a thumbs up, feeling my heart slow down to its steady beat once again. I couldn't be distracted. Not right then.

I swallowed all of the emotions that were surfacing and used their power as force to kick the glass doors, causing shards to shatter and fall to the ground instantly, their destruction chiming through the air like a song. I didn't look at Silas as I walked in, keeping my gun up to my side.

Another similar door was left ajar. No one in sight. More blood. Faster heartbeats.

I kicked it open. In front of me: desks upon desks toppled over and strewn across the ground. Lights flickered above my head erratically. Computers were destroyed, thrown aside. The place smelled metallic.

No agency ever leaves behind a mess. We clean up, because it's too indiscreet not to, so this was insanely uncharacteristic, especially of G.O.L.D.. I walked on my toes so that my steps were silent, examining each room in the hall to find the same thing: strewn chairs and desks. Emptied filing cabinets but no papers. Computer screens but no hard drives. The technology even seemed older than what we now use.

The building was huge, and the first floor seemed to just be meeting areas.

As I made my way down the hall and to the largest room, which seemed to be a conference area, I found that it was relatively clean. Still put together, as if no one had fought there. There were three rows of chairs elevated in front of a mini-stage, which was clean. Untouched, except for one swiveling chair that was still moving the lightest bit.

An eerie sensation caused the hairs on my neck to stand.

I wasn't alone. I walked into the room, surrounded by chairs and silence, ready to face whoever was there waiting for me. A part of me hoped, no prayed, that it would be Harris. I'd have the honors to rip him apart myself, but I knew that it wasn't very likely.

As if on cue, I saw a figure approach from the same door I had. It was difficult to make out her features, but fiery red hair was wrapped in a bun on top of her head. She stood with her hip jutted out to one side, hands weapon-less, crossed over her chest, her frame about the same size as mine. I could take her. Easily.

"Zara," she said, her high, rich voice echoing through the air, "It's about time you showed up."

She took a step closer, but I didn't have time to respond. I saw the way that her indistinguishable eyes flitted to the stage behind me momentarily; she was looking at someone. My suspicions were confirmed when a large hand covered my mouth and I felt a presence behind me, warmth emanating off a larger body. I elbowed the man behind me in the ribs sharply before twisting his hand so that it was no longer covering my mouth. The gun in my hand fell to the ground.

He recovered quickly from my blow and took my arms, twisting them so that I was forced to face him; we stood chest-to-chest, but he towered above me. His eyes were a dark brown, complementary to his jet black hair. The smell of cologne was overpowering, but I held my breath as I studied his expression. The bottom half of his face was graced by short hair, forming a beard that complimented his sharp jawline well. His nose was slightly crooked, but it somehow added to his attractiveness. The corners of his lips tugged upwards into a smirk as he stared down at me, our noses almost touching, my arms still tied behind my back.

"You're not as good as they say," he mocked, loosening his grip on my hands, victory dancing in his aphotic eyes.

I batted my eyelashes up at him, pouting as I feigned defeat. I stopped resisting against his grip, making him relax, as well. "That's a shame. I hate not living up to my legacy."

Without waiting for him to respond, I brought my knee up forcefully to his groin. He grunted at stumbled back with the blow, but didn't let go of my arms. I used his own strength to push myself against his arms and kick him, my feet landing against his chest. His grip finally fell and he stumbled back, but recuperated and tried to kick me, but I ducked below his feet.

I gripped onto the leather wrapped around his torso to pull him closer to me, and punched him in his gut so that he buckled over. This guy was a good fighter; I could tell by his movements, yet he wasn't making attack moves. It was too easy.

Leaping at him, I wrapped my legs around his waist and pinned him to the ground, holding his hands together with one hand, and holding a knife I'd retrieved from my pocket to his exposed neck.

His devilish eyes stared back at me in amusement.

"I take my words back," he said, the words rolling off his tongue too smoothly, "You're pretty strong for a girl."

I sneered and pressed the knife closer to his skin. I glanced back to see that his companion was gone, and returned my attention to him.

"Who are you?" I seethed, narrowing my eyes. We were interrupted by the redhead girl's voice to our right.

"I would put those down if I were you," she said, standing a the entrance. She had Silas in front of her and a gun pressed into his torso. He wasn't trembling or shaking with fear; he was calm, his serene eyes set on mine. Eyes that said he trusted me to get him out of this mess. For reasons I didn't understand, Silas wasn't afraid. He knew I'd keep him safe. That's when I saw a wound on his captor's arm, a cut caused by what I presumed was the switchblade I'd given him.

Suppressing a smirk, I placed the blade back into its pocket on my belt, but kept my arm on my prisoner's neck.

"Let him go," I said, the words more of a threat than anything else. The girl smiled lightly, but complied, dropping her hands. Silas scowled at her and stood to the side, rubbing his red arms. She returned the switchblade to him, and he tucked it back into his pocket.

"Your turn," the girl said, motioning down at her companion, who was still under my weight.

I looked down at him, his eyes dancing with mischief. There was a scar that ran from the corner of his lip down to his chin, framing the smile that refused to leave.

"Unless you don't want to," he smirked. I rolled my eyes and swung my legs back up, walking over to stand by Silas, whose expression was set in stone. Keeping my hands on my weapons, I straightened by back.

"Are you okay?" I asked Silas. He smiled softly and nodded, running his hands through his hair.

"Listen," the girl spoke, walking over to her partner and helping him up, "We don't want to hurt you. We're not with G.O.L.D. or those other asshats. We want to help you." They stood in front of us, their expressions holding hope and sincerity.

I narrowed my eyes, studying the duo carefully. They stood side by side, the boy much taller. Both seemed to be around our age, and the way that they shared slightly crooked noses and dark eyes made me wonder if they were related.

"I'm Lucy. This is my brother Thomas. We're with Luna," Lucy said tentatively as she stepped closer, Thomas following suit. I froze once her words dawned on me. My mother had mentioned them in one of her entries; she'd said that Luna agents by the name Lucy and Thomas may contact me. But still, I was hesitant.

I stepped back, keeping Silas behind me. "How do I know you're not lying?"

Lucy and Thomas both shared a look before reaching into their shirts. They pulled out necklaces that had been concealed by their collars, holding them in front of their palms. Crescent moons, almost identical to mine.

A cynical laugh escaped my lips. "That doesn't prove anything. We're going to go, and you will not follow."

I spun on my heels and hooked my arm with Silas's as we headed towards the entrance. A part of me wanted to believe them, but how could I? They were strangers, and this wasn't the time to be misplacing trust, but at the same time, my mother had mentioned them in her journal, rendering me torn.

"Rose came to us a week before she died."

Lucy's shrill words echoed in the air, making my body freeze. I held my breath and turned back around, clenching my fists as I watched her move closer through narrowed eyes.

"She said that if she..." Lucy averted her gaze "... well, if this happened, then we should find you. You can trust us. This is a war, Zara, and we can't win it without you." Lucy's wide eyes were pleading, her words shaky as she requested my trust. I looked to Thomas, who simply nodded along with her words.

He glanced at his watch. "We're running out of time. We need to go."

I swallowed hard zipped up my jacket, concealing my belt. Silas grabbed my wrist, his expression puzzled. "What do we do?"

I looked between Silas, Lucy, and Thomas, and sighed. "We need to get out of here first. Keep your distance," I whispered to him.

Lucy nodded in approval, but Thomas began approaching us, standing right in front of Silas. He crossed his arms across his chest and looked the curly-headed boy up and down, scrutinizing his form and sizing him up. They were the same height, but Thomas was rugged, biceps nearly tearing out of his jacket.

"He can't come with us," Thomas stated, eyes locked onto Silas's. "He's a civilian." He spat the words, his tone holding traces of disgust. I clenched my fists by my side.

Lucy and I both opened our mouths to speak, but Silas beat us to it. He pushed Thomas back with his hands, surprising all three of us. My eyes widened in shock as I watched the interaction.

"I didn't ask for your permission." Silas's eyes were set ablaze, his jaw clenched as Thomas approached him once again, but this time, he looked like he was ready to throw a punch.

Before I knew what my legs were doing, they carried me so that I was between both of them in an instant. Silas was behind me, and Thomas in front, a fist in midair. He looked down at me through his narrowed eyes and back at Silas, his eyebrows knit in thought.

"Hit him," I said, "I dare you."

Thomas's lips twitched upwards into a smirk as he glanced between Silas and me. He shook his head with a thought and relaxed, tucking his hands into his pockets.

"Unbelievable," he muttered as he scowled and walked away, ignoring Lucy's disappointed gaze. She shot me an apologetic look and followed him out of the door.

Silas fell into step beside me as we followed them.

"I don't like him," he said, suspicion etched across his features.

My hands fell to my gun subconsciously. I looked around at the abandoned building and found myself wondering what exactly had happened. There was blood but no bodies, and if the blood was of G.O.L.D. agents', then who was the attacker?

"Me neither."

(A/N)

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