Chapter 19.

"What made you change your mind?" Kira muttered.

We sat on the hood of an old car, facing the desert. It was dusk, the dying sunlight catching her blonde hair and making it glow, blue eyes glistening in the mellow light. She had a sniper rifle across the backseat, her customary pistols strapped to her thighs. Honey again today, waves of it caressing my senses.

The tips of my boots digging into the sand.

We were waiting for Tick. He had nearly burst into tears when I trudged into his apartment and told him I'd help. I hadn't told him about my meeting with Magnus. I hadn't told anyone. Better that no one knew what I was doing. The plan I had come up with wouldn't work if I did. I'd be paying for two people's sins.

"A lot's changed," I said.

"Like?" She was closer off, sitting at the edge of the hood, as far away as she could from me. She hadn't looked at me once today, an air of annoyance surrounded her.

"For starters, Lara told me everything."

A red hue crept up her neck. "Yeah. And?"

I shrugged. "I was being pretty selfish. I know that might not make sense to you right now, but it will one day."

"Just gonna keep lying to me?"

"Are you?"

The stars were beginning to pock mark the sky, the blanket of darkness holding our words in the air.

"I'm…sorry, about what I said in the hospital," she muttered.

"I'm sorry about what I said too. You're not a monster…just following orders."

She looked at me, her face in the WTF position. "You called me a monster?"

"Not like that," I laughed, cut short by her hand resting on her gun. "But I acted like a prick. I was hopped up on alcohol and emotions and I cut myself loose even though you were just trying to help."

She sighed. "Yeah, well, I wasn't helping in the best of ways."

The constant chatter of the Gray was around us now, a hum of laughter and cheering. People in this city were harder, it was a city of in between. Half way from losing it, halfway from getting it all, halfway from finding love, halfway from making enemies. The people in this city recovered from tragedy quickly, they accepted it and wore the hurt on their sleeves, but they never stopped that from moving them forward. I guess I'd have to change. Enough of wearing the hurt on the inside, I'd just have to accept it if I was going to stick around.

I stuck my hand out. "Dan."

She raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Dan. That's my name. Since we're starting over." I grinned, and for a fleeting moment she didn't gag, until she looked away and did.

She took my hand. "Kira."

"Mind if I make you pancakes when we come back?" I lowered my voice and said, "I heard they're pretty damn good."

She halfway smiled and shook her head. "You're weird. But I guess I can stomach one."

"No more lies?" I added.

She nodded. "No more lies."

No more lies. Just after the lie I planned. Just after the lie about me not being the Unit. A minute in and I've already broken a promise.

"This is amazing," Tick said. He was standing away from the car, a smile on his face. The first smile I'd seen from him in a while.

"Up yours, Tick," Kira said, sliding into the driver's seat. "Where are we going again?"

I got into the passenger's seat, Tick taking the back seat with the rifle. "Young Haven. We're going to Young Haven."

**

A thick sheet of darkness slammed down on us as we entered the burnt out city. Old pillars and buildings stood like ruins, their white concrete glistening in the moon's shallow light. Kira weaved the car around rocks as big as me, the car occasionally dipping into a shallow hole. The machine groaned and complained as we drove through the wreckage of the city. Bombed out during the war; closest the Resistance got to reaching the Gray. It wasn't a victory for either side. Both armies near crippled, hundreds of thousands of soldier's lives' snapped away in an instance when the bombs began ripping through the city, chewing up concrete and steel, raging through homes and schools.

I remember watching the TV with all the other inmates in Young Haven, our eyes glued to the small screen, butts riveted to metal benches. Food hung off of forks, mouths gaping. The reporter in her blue overalls lost for words at the sight of the twenty million strong megacity being turned into nothing but a crater in the earth. The close up shot of a wounded soldier carrying a Resistance member out of the blaze, only to be crushed by falling debris churning our young stomachs. We learnt that dreadful day that right and wrong are just tags one side gives the other. But when life is lost on such a scale, the only wrong is the injustice both sides received.

Tick tapped on my shoulder, his head breaking the space between me and Kira. "This place reminds me of the castle down south."

I snapped my fingers. "I remember that. Yeah, remember when we thought Runt drowned in the river and she came back up with that big ass fish in her fists."

He laughed, the warm sound splitting the memories of bombs falling and soldiers screaming for loved ones. "A baby bull shark. She was so freaking proud of herself. What ever happened to that necklace you made for her?"

"Think she still has it," I said. "But she couldn't wear it because the tooth was too big for her."

"Hey, lovebirds," Kira called. "We have a little problem."

"You want a shark tooth necklace too?" I asked. "I think she'd look good with one."

Tick nodded. "Agreed."

"The shark tooth isn't the problem I'm talking about," she snapped. She jabbed a finger at the windshield and said, "That's our problem."

It was not a little problem. We were on the outskirts of the city now, several stone throws away from Young Haven, and several kilometers away from the Gray. The darkness was a thick cover around us, but the ancient building in front of us hammered down the darkness like God wanted to hide it from the world. Lights cut the area to the right of Young Haven, campfires and orange flood lights. People moved around large tents, the sizzle and pop of meat could be heard from here.

Kira grabbed her rifle from the rear seats and left the car, Tick and I following suit. We crouched behind a short wall, its top rigid and rough, covered with faded sickly yellow paint. She had the gun rested on a crook in the wall, she didn't have a scope attached to it - her eye patch was off, the golden iris scanning the lights.

"My guess is that they're Nomads," I whispered. I didn't need to, they wouldn't hear us from here – but the darkness and silence was clamping down on us, giving us no other option.

"So Hera was right," Tick muttered. "They're getting closer to the Gray."

"Think they know about the Unit?" Kira asked, finger caressing the trigger.

I shook my head. "Doubt it."

"But they're hanging around Young Haven," Tick hissed.

And nothing is in there. Hera's soldiers were probably close by, Magnus' too. We were only here for the sake of throwing them off our trail. I had backed my gut again, knowing the Nomads would be somewhere close. Neither Hera nor Magnus wanted to start fighting without the Unit, throw in the Nomads and no bullets would go flying tonight. Once again my talent was shining through.

"How are we going to get in there?" Kira muttered, eye transfixed on her prey. She could take out all of them from here, but the waver of reluctance shown in her blue eye.

"Front door."

They both looked at me like I had said Hera was powerless.

"Wow, no one takes jokes anymore," I muttered. "There's a sewer system that'll lead us into the building. Shouldn't be far from here, probably somewhere around there." I pointed to the left of Young Haven, where the darkness was the heaviest. A smaller square building should be there, that's what I hoped for, anyway. If it wasn't there anymore, Kira might have to exercise her finger. But dealing with a group of Nomads was dangerous no matter. They're like hippies, but with the intention to butcher anyone who wasn't like them.

That and going into the sewer would stop Kira from coming with us.

"No way in hell I'm crawling through a sewer," Kira said, jaw set, finger still gliding over the curved black trigger.

Called it.

"Tick and I'll go. Take out anyone who starts to veer round the building."

"Make sure he doesn't do anything stupid," she said.

"For sure."

"I was talking to Tick."

Tick laughed, patting me on my back. "C'mon, man. Let's go."

She nodded, her face catching the moon's glow. My breaths caught in my throat, her golden hair flowing around her neck. She raised a frustrated eyebrow and I looked away.

I led Tick into the inky darkness. Our footsteps muffled by the thick sand. Young Haven is enormous, a circular building that rose up several floors, but also went down several others. A large watchtower in the middle, we called it God's eyes when I was in there. Always being watched, no way of escaping, no way of falling out of order.

We reached the small shack of a building, its metal door worn away by the harsh desert weather. We slipped through the small gap, making sure we didn't push it. Making it this far only to tell the Nomads where we were with a screeching metal door wasn't a good idea.

We walked into a wall of a stomach churning stench. Several bodies had decomposed around a control panel on the far wall, they were old bodies – it must have been years since another person had come across them. All of their neck bent awkwardly, bodies slumped against blank screens and worn buttons.

I drew the bandana around my nose and mouth, Tick did the same with his. I pointed towards a hatch in the corner of the room, he nodded and followed. Our boots knocking against the sandy cement, shallow breaths cut short in the putrid air. I bent down and wrapped my metal fist around the hatch opening, I tugged and it didn't come loose. Tick bent down and wrapped his fists around the handle. We heaved and a raging groan broke the silence, the metal hatch slamming down on its hinges. Another wave of revulsion exploded in my stomach from the smell exploding out of the hatch.

Shouting came from outside. Followed by the cracking retort of a rifle. Heavy thudding was getting closer, screaming and bellows from just outside the gnarled metal door. The popping of the rifle like thunder splitting the desert air.

I shoved Tick down the hole as the first Nomad broke into the small room. He lunged towards me, a gnarly smile covering his filthy face. I grabbed his outstretched arms and shoved him against the control panel, his flailing limbs getting caught in skulls and ribcages. I jumped down the hole, bringing the metal hatch down with me. The slam echoed through the sewer, the damp light that was here before cut off.

I held my position on the ladder, keeping the hatch down. I could feel powerful arms trying to pry open the hatch. My robotic arm complaining from the bad angle, it felt like it was being pulled away from me, the cybernetics close to jutting out of their placements down my spine. The hatch slowly rising, a machete being squeezed through the letter box gap and cutting the air in front of my face. A sharp bang broke through the roars of the Nomads, followed by another loud crack.

The smell of honey penetrated the smell of the sewer.

We weren't here to waste time, though. I pulled down the hatch, a boot knocked against it three times from the top. I knocked against it in the same pattern. We were fine, for now at least. Hopefully there weren't any more Nomads in Young Haven itself.

I climbed down the ladder, the heavy stench getting worse with each rung. My boots finally submerged, the water was cold and thick, jarring in the warmth of the sewer tunnel.

"I really hope this is just water," Tick muttered, the sound of sloshing coming from a few meters ahead of me. A click snapped through the air, a small ball of light floated in the air next to Tick, the robot whirring quietly.

"Let's not ask too many questions."

We began walking away from the hatch, getting deeper into the labyrinth of a tunnel. Keep going straight, take a left, then a right, up a broken pipe and continue on against the slow current. We pushed against the – hopefully – water, it rose sometimes, reaching our waists, and sometimes just our ankles.

"This Unit thing better be worth it," Tick said. "What's it like, anyways?"

I winced, the darkness in front of me hiding it. "It's…semi-useful. About this big," I raised my hand to my head, "not that heavy. I'd say it's talented."

"You'd say a machine is talented?" he chuckled, choking on the rancid air. "But if it's that big we should have brought something bigger than just our backpacks."

"Dude," I said, stepping over a dead animal I had never seen before, and trust me; I've seen a lot. "When have our packs ever failed us?"

He held up a finger. "When we were up north with that crazy lady – "

"Esmeralda the cannibal."

He held up another. "And at the skin farms in the south."

We walked in silence for a few meters. "I don't think I want to remember that one."

"Me neither."

We broke onto a rusted catwalk, a ramp leading up to a twisted metal door. The keypad next to it torn off of its holdings, wires hung out of the black hole in the wall. Tick squeezed through it first, I followed him through. A corridor was in front of us, an empty guard's room to our left, a panel with dials and switches to our right. The whine of the little light bot was the only sound in the corridor, a deathly silence filling the rest of it.

We trudged down the corridor, eyes scanning empty rooms and cells. Metal bars twisted, doors hanging off of hinges. Lights as dark as the desert outside, loosely hanging off of the ceiling. And then there were the bodies. Piles of them in cells, all of them down to the skeleton. Rats squeaked around them, squirming through skulls. I heard Tick catch his breath at the not so decomposed small skeleton of a boy slumped against a wall. A fresh pool of blood seeping around him, the Nomads – or better yet, just one – had made it down here.

I pointed down the right of the corridor, where a split had appeared in it. The reflective lighting of the infirmary sign glinting in the faint blue lighting. The skeletons lined the corridors now, a thick carpet of thigh bones paving the way on. We came to the door, its large black finish darker than the shroud around us. This was the one door that hadn't been broken down or twisted. It stood solid and firm, tall and imposing.

I gestured towards it, Tick raised an eyebrow.

"It's locked," he said.

"Yeah…so this is kinda your part of things." I pointed towards the lock.

He nodded, getting out a small lock pick from his pocket. He crouched down, the little bot following him. He began fiddling with it, his humming breaking the invading silence.

"Did I ever tell you what the song I hum is called?" he muttered, stuttering whenever the Spanish crossed with English.

I shook my head.

"Pégate, by Ricky Martin," he continued. "Means come closer."

"…you want me to come closer?"

He chuckled, his eyes digging into the control panel, his fingers working around wires. "No, dude. The song means come closer. About spreading love, creating peace – pushing away the pain or stress by using the music. Dad used to sing it whenever he was…going on a run."

"Calmed his nerves?"

He nodded, the door clicking open. "And always put a smile on his face." A flash of a grin followed, so full of unhinged emotion that I couldn't help giving him one too.

Spreading peace. That's what he was saying, he didn't want to burn down the Gatekeepers because of hate like the prick in the suit had said. He wanted peace, and he saw the side with the best option for peace – Hera's freedom.

We squeezed into the small room, a blood stained white surgical table in its middle. White curtains ripped and covering the floor, surgical tools in rusted dishes. A large window at the far end of the room, not a window outside, though, a window for the old brass in charge of Young Haven to watch the experiments.

"Where is it?" Tick burst, flipping through the curtains and fallen metal cabinets.

"Tick, do you hate me?"

He paused, hands running through his hair. "I don't have time for this, Dan. Where the hell is it?"

I pushed the door shut, the metal groaning against the floor. "Just…answer the question."

"Did you lie to us?" he gasped. "Was this just a way for you to get away from the Gray?"

I sat on the edge of the surgical table, running a hand over the long dried blood. My blood. "Tick, don't you hate me? You want Hera to win this war, but I came to you to show you where the Unit is. And you're going straight to Magnus."

He stopped moving, his hands paused through his thick hair. Eyes wide, mouth hanging open. He wobbled towards me, clamping his hands onto my shoulders. "Dan…I, look, I wasn't…I'm not going to-"

"Tick. Answer the question. Don't you hate me?"

He shook his head, black locks swaying. His eyes glistening, tears building up. "Of course not. I wanted to find the Unit for you…so we could both just leave this place. This war isn't our problem, man."

"At the expense of everyone?"

He swallowed. He slumped down onto the surgical table, cupping his face in his hands. "My whole life it's just decision after decision. Helping dad push drugs for money or staying with my sister so we can take care of mum. Letting Ben go meaning that he'd get tortured, or killing him myself. And I just can't fucking do this anymore. People just keep dying because I pick the wrong thing."

"Don't you care about the Rogues? About Kira, Draco, Saia, Mei?"

"Jin, too," he muttered.

"Oh yeah, I forgot about him."

He chuckled, the sound empty and stale. "I also care about people in the Gatekeepers. They were my first friends. But the Rogues are like a family, you know? But…I wasn't going to give the Unit to Magnus, I was going to go straight to Hera. The last bad decision I was going to make." His voice breaking, his body shuddering.

"Well-"

He spun round, standing up in front of me. "But don't hate the Rogues. They aren't perfect, and sure life doesn't mean much to them. But they watch out for their own, the Gatekeepers don't-"

"Tick-"

"And it's going to be fine. They'll win the war, and make sure things are done right. Hera's a little ruthless sometimes, but if you're one of hers she looks out for you. I mean, have you ever seen a homeless person in the Rogue territory?"

"Tick, stop," I cut him off. "I did hate them. But…they are like a family. And hell, not like I have any of that anymore."

"You're giving up on your mum?"

I shrugged and pulled a smile. It hurt, like my face rebelled against it. I'd had to accept the truth. I was paying for Tick's sins, meaning I was going to stay in the Gray. "It was fun looking for her whilst is lasted."

"No, no, no," he said, a shake of the head each time. "We're going to look for her, together. As soon as we get the Unit to Hera."

I stood up, sliding my shirt up. My back faced him, a sharp hasp followed. I turned back around, his face paler than the white curtains. The thick scar running down my spine feeling colder than water in the sewer.

I smiled – at least, I tried to. "I'm the Unit, man. I didn't tell anyone because…because I was selfish. I just wanted to find Mum, but I guess that's not going to happen. So…I'm staying. I'll do your job for you."

Paying for his sins.

The dam in his eyes finally burst, streaking down his cheeks. He wrapped his arms around me, his body shuddering with every inhale. "You spoke to Magnus," he whispered.

"I did."

"And you're going to double cross him?"

"I am."

"Why?

"You don't kill that many people and deserve anything else but dyeing," I said, putting him at shoulder's length. "Apart from you. I'll do your heavy lifting."

He choked on his words, his head hanging low,

"Remember the apartment in the East Coast?"

He nodded.

"Go there, lay low. Hell, adopt a kid. But just know I'll handle everything here," I reassured him. "And in a year I should be finished here. Then I'll come over and we can chill out. Deal?"

He chuckled, red circles around his eyes. His mouth tugged down. "Deal. One year. Could you say bye to Runt for me?"

I shook my head. "Can't do that. I'll have to tell her 'I'll see you later' instead."

**

We found Kira leaning against the small shack, a red cylinder in between her lips. Arms crossed, eye patch back on, and bodies a carpet around her. She didn't have a speck of blood on her, the moonlight highlighting her platinum hair.

She straightened up, looking over us. "What the….where is it? The Unit?"

I put a hand out, stopping Tick. "It's a long story. And I'll tell you about it on our walk back."

"Walk back?" She glared at me, the rifle strapped to her back staring at me. "Hell do you mean?"

Tick broke away from us, a limp smile on his lips. "One year?"

I nodded, matching his smile. "One year."

"Tick?!" Kira shouted, calling after him.

I gripped onto her shoulder before she could sprint after him, the grumble of the car filling the desert air. The headlights turned and disappeared in the dark, red tail lights like beady eyes.

Kira slapped away my hand. "What the hell was that? Where's he going with my car?"

"The East Coast." I shrugged and began walking in the general direction of the Gray. Around thirty kilometers of walking ahead of us. In the dark, in the sand, surrounded by nothing but each other.

"Is the Unit in the East Coast?" she barked. "I knew you were lying."

I turned round, her blue eye stabbing through the dark and my chest. "Let's get back to the Gray. I have a lot to tell you," I said. "And no, I didn't lie to you. I'd never. I promised that i wouldn't didn't I?"