10.

Stray.

Hunter was probably losing his shit right now. He'd been acting strange for a while now, so this was just going to ramp him up even more. I'll just hope he doesn't do any sparring with Tohka or Casper. But knowing Casper, he's probably licking his wounds right now.

I checked my oxygen mask again. I had an inkling feeling that something's gone wrong before when I've jumped into this river, but I'd never even seen it up close before. But I trust my gut, so I checked it one more time. Pipes are screwed in and oxygen tank full and pressurized. Combat knives sharper than diamonds and strapped to my thighs.

Backup mask that I'd stolen from Hunter's stash. He had multiple, so I doubt he'd miss one. This one was all black with three thin white lines on either cheek. Sort of like whiskers. He didn't have any full face masks, something about him getting nauseous whenever he smelt blood. Which is…weird, to say the least. But he's never really straight forward, always making it seem like there's a whole other side to him that he's trying to hide from me.

Can't even tell me the full truth about him. Maybe he deserves to lose his shit for a while.

I switched on the Unit. The thick cloak of darkness surrounding the trees and the stub of the bridge above me brightened. The sound of birds chirping and insects clicking in the woods behind me background noise to the hum that came from the Gray. Orders were to be followed: go and retrieve the schematics to the Walls of Jericho.

Force would be required.

I swung my legs over the high concrete bank and paused. Someone was watching me, not behind me, somewhere in front of me. I scanned the dark buildings of the Gray, all of them so far away but so close. Worn down and decrepit, empty apart from the sound of rats clawing through the floor boards. The Unit showed me the skeletons of the buildings, each of them contained a gun big enough to tear apart the Island. They must be the Walls of Jericho. Tucked away in worn down buildings and facing us, ready for the day we stepped foot in their city.

Animals. Ready to slaughter innocent people living in the buildings facing the Gray. Heathens. But I was going to change that.

Her smell hit me first. Honey and cinnamon. Near the central bridge, on top of an apartment building being held up by hope and prayers alone. One blue eye sharper than mine, and a bionic golden-black eye. A rifle was in her arms and she was looking right at me. She had a clear shot, the Unit was beeping and warning me to begin my mission and get out of firing site, but she just cradled the rifle and stared at me.

She must be one of those Rogues Tohka and Casper had told me about. By the way she held that rifle she was experienced, so I couldn't take any chances.

I dove into the inky black river. Thick and jarring, shards of ice ran up my arms and down my body as I sunk into the rushing current. The Unit helped me get my bearings back together and I started forward. I waited for the hail of bullets to rip through the river's surface and make me into a paste but nothing broke the surface. Someone was looking out for me, at least, something was.

Pulling myself forward in the raging current I was hit by another gut feeling. Like I was doing this from muscle memory instead of it being the first time.

Maybe I shouldn't have had one of the cookies the old man in the housing unit had. My stomach's been acting up ever since. So maybe I won't rely on my stomach completely and maybe more on the computer bolted into my spine.

Going into the Gray via the river bank would be suicide. It would have to be through the sewer tunnels, which would be just so fun, so freaking fun. Most of the tunnels into the Gray had been destroyed or blocked off, at least, that's what the Unit showed me. Large circular doors welded shut deep in the river had been blocked off on the other side by something big. Rubble probably. But there was one grate that was on its hinges. It would be a squeeze, but it would take me to the sewers.

Hopefully. If not, then I'd be ending up in a processing plant and then into a vat of acid. Now that would be an amazing life. I don't have the greatest memory, so I can only remember the last year of my life, but it hadn't been spectacular. So getting dissolved would be fitting for something I can barely remember.

But let's just hope the person or thing up there looking out for me is still helping me out.

I got my boots on either side of the metal grate, fought the current and the numbness settling into my feet, and pulled. The metal groaned and shrieked, muffled by the thickness of the river. I shifted my feet and tried again. The metal of my fists and the rusted metal of the grate bit and fought against each other. It put up a solid fight, but it finally came out of its holdings with a burst of concrete powder that stung my eyes.

I wasn't going to fit with the oxygen tank in the small space. I gulped in my final breath of oxygen and I tugged off the oxygen mask and quickly strapped on Hunter's whiskered mask. I unclipped the tanks and the current tugged them out of my grip. Great. Fantastic. I watched them rush away into the darkness, swallowed my other stray pieces of trash in the river.

I scrambled into the small space, my shoulders scraped against the concrete as I pulled myself in. Darkness wrapped around me, so thick that even the Unit couldn't balance it out. I pulled myself forward, the slow current thick and fighting against me. I crawled through the darkness in the claustrophobic space for what felt like hours, enough time for me to consider changing career paths. The water was getting thicker, so at least I was heading into the sewers, but I was also heading into the sewers through oddly thick water.

I'll leave it at that and pray the water in the Gray was naturally thick.

I finally reached the small tunnels opening. It was a waterfall type of deal, with other small tunnels next to me letting water out into a mass of green water sloshing down to my left. My lungs had begun screaming for air, my heart was doing its best job to make me wince with every beat.

I broke out of the rushing water and clung onto a catwalk above the small tunnel. I tugged off my mask and sucked in air. I gagged and emptied my stomach. It wasn't too late to change career paths. Maybe I could become a gardener, hell, even an artist.

I put my mask back on and hauled my body onto the rickety catwalk. It was beyond rusted and clinging onto the slimy sewer wall by a promise. I looked down both sides of the sewer, one side pulsed more than the other. I took a step forward and it pulsed again. The technology center was probably that direction, so being the smart cookie that I am, I went that direction.

My boots knocked against the catwalk like sledgehammers. My breathing thin hisses as I tried to keep the putrid smell of the sewer out of my system. The mask was doing a great job at keeping most of it out, but I still had to stuff the black bandana I always kept on me inside the mask.

Hunter had told me that it had been a gift from mum a long time ago. I'd asked him what had happened to her, but he hadn't answered me. We'd argued that night, well, not argued. More like I shouted at him and he sat there as I asked him to just tell me where the rest of our family was, whether we had other siblings and where we used to live, but he always looked far off and began twisting those damn rings of his.

So the most I could do was hold onto the bandana and day dream about happy things. About how mum and dad were probably the best parents ever, how we'd lived together as a happy family until Hunter had to go off to war. But that one memory, that damn memory of getting strapped onto that table and getting peeled apart ruined them. Like a full stop in the middle of a sentence.

I could try and convince myself that we were happy and perfect and loved each other. But that memory kept those day dreams as dreams and not a reality.

I'd done something to have this thing in me. I'd done something terrible and now the Unit pushed me forwards on the shaky catwalk in a pitch black sewer to follow Grace's orders.

Pause. I crouched and hid in the shadows. There was a metal door with a soft white light above it. A man and a woman held rifles to their chests, both of them in gas masks and talking in low whispers. The rushing river of waste below us had probably drowned out my short burst of swear words when I'd emptied my stomach.

Someone was looking out for me, but I was testing my luck.

I slid out both my knives. I flipped and caught both of them. I could kill the two right now and make it easier for myself, but they weren't my targets. Then again, I had orders. And if I just knocked them out they'd have seen my eyes, and no one has eyes like me.

I didn't want to kill them.

But I had orders.

I threw the first knife, it sliced through the air and plunged into the woman's neck. She gagged and wrapped her hands around the knife, the blood gushed from the gaps in her fingers and she fell to the floor, a pool of crimson dying the sewer river beneath us. The man hesitated for a second, and I saw my opportunity. I flipped the next knife and threw it, and instead of shooting, he reached for the woman like he could save her.

The knife missed and plunged into the pale cement next to the metal door. He didn't even bother looking at me or the knife, he was just cradling the woman. From the muffled sound coming from his mask, he was crying. He was shouting her name.

I had orders to follow.

I ran and leaped off of the catwalk. He spun round and the glimmer of his tear filled eyes filled the bug eyed eye glass of the gas mask. The Unit burnt that image into my head as my boot connected with the side of his head. His skull smacked against the concrete with a sick crunch, his fingers twitched and curled around the woman's blood soaked hands. His body stopped moving and his pulse flat lined. They lay there together with their hands clamped together.

I had to force my knife out of the woman's neck. Bloody and gristly work that soaked my already wet clothes with tissue and bone fragments. Her mask also tore away from her face as I pulled it out, she was young, maybe around my age. Light brown skin and flat brown eyes. Another gut feeling, but I don't trust my gut anymore. These were just orders, they were animals, and they were heathens and murderers that killed for no reason.

But…they're people. Just following orders as well.

Grace's orders, Dan. Just finish this with no more killing.

I pulled my other knife from the concrete and examined the blade – bent and blunt. Useless now. I tossed it into the river and watched it float down the slow procession of green.

I tried the door handle and it was as stiff as the concrete below my feet. Someone up there had stopped looking out for me. I looked at the dead couple and rifled through their pockets. God, a thief and a murderer, I'd been in low places before, but this was breaking all sorts of records.

I came up empty. Nothing but pictures between the two – in some sort of small room, their faces twisted into silly poses. I put that one bag into the boy's pocket, as well as another photo with them standing rigid behind a woman with golden eyes and glowing chocolate skin. She looked intimidating, scary and with a presence that oozed out from even the picture.

My heart beat was ramping up. I can't stall here, they'd eventually have to report or switch positions, and then more of them would come. That wouldn't be the problem, the problem would be that I'd have to kill. And I don't want to do that. But I still had orders to get the data on those guns facing the Island. I was protecting my people if I did this. Yeah, I'll put it in that light.

I examined the pair again. Their gloves weren't fingerless like mine, they were full and padded. Not to absorb recoil, but for something else. For identification. I had to peel away their hands, fingers as stiff as steel locked onto each other. I slipped off a glove from the boy and put it on my hand, a little big, but it would do.

I was about to try the handle again, but I paused. I put their hands back together. That's the least I could do.

The door clicked open this time after a soft beep. I held my breath to tamper down my raging heartbeat. The door swung open soundlessly into a silent white corridor. Water dripped off of me and tapped against the cool metal under my boots. I didn't have to turn around to sense the hidden camera embedded into the wall. I was in the doorframe, so just out of its range. I could smash it and be swarmed by soldiers, or continue in the dead boy's clothes.

Fuck me I need a new job.

I stripped the boy to his underwear and slid on his black combat trousers and jacket. It was heavy and packed with radios and a layer of bullet proof armour that was weaved into the fabric. I removed the whiskered mask and tucked it into one of the large trouser pockets, the bandana stayed around my neck. The gas mask was next, and this was going to stay with me for a long time. The boy had died smiling.

I froze, wasting time I didn't have. Smiling? Smiling. I wasn't making this up. I wretched and heaved, but nothing came from my stomach. Why would he be smiling? That's a simple answer – he'd died facing that girl. Now you're the animal, now you're the heathen, Dan. The sound of boots slamming into metal rung from the corridor and I wiped my sleeve across my mouth and strapped the gas mask over my face. Orders first, pounding headache later.

In a rush I stepped into the metal corridor and slammed the door shut. Soldiers rushed past the end of the corridor, none of them breaking stride to look at me. I started forward, by breaths fogged up the eye glass and made it even harder to see. Like seeing through coin sized pieces of glass that were tinted gray.

I paused as another group of soldiers rushed past me, they were shouting about an intruder, and closing off the bridges and tunnels. Adrenaline bubbled on my tongue and anxiety flipped my stomach. Looking like one of them sounded easy enough, but they were shouting off orders in military code. The Unit could translate anything, but code that didn't officially exist was something completely different.

"PFC Jakes," a woman shouted. Brown hair done into braids and pale white skin peeking through her black military fatigues. "What are you doing? You should be at second station omega."

It took me a second to realize that she was talking to me. I saluted which felt wrong, but I had to act the part. No more killing, just gather data and get the hell out of this hole of a city. "Ma'am, I was ordered to meet Hera." Saying the name that Grace had always said. She must be important, because that was the only name Grace always repeated. She would say it once, and repeat it underneath her breath. Like another coat of paint.

"PFC Jakes," she hissed, drawing in the eyes of other soldiers. They were slowing down and eyeing me, the fast flow of them had turned into a trickle as they hovered around us. "Repeat your command."

I swallowed. Some of the men raised their guns, others clicked off safety catches. "Hera sent me a command to come and see her, ma'am!" Trying my best to sell it.

I didn't do a good enough job. The woman grabbed my mask and tore it from my face. Without another word she grabbed my hair and slammed her elbow into my nose. Pain and blood shot down my throat as she forced me onto my knees.

She growled, "Who the hell are you? Because anyone would know to address the Lieutenant Colonel by her rank and not by name."

I shook my head and spat out the wad of blood choking me. The Unit showed me my options, and I didn't like them. Give up who I am and blow apart the Gatekeeper's plans, or I can kill them.

Option two. Orders must be followed.

"I'm sorry," I muttered.

She pulled my head back and looked down at me. "What was that?"

I clenched my jaw and fought the sting of tears. "I'm sorry." Before she could kick me, I sprung up and slammed my head into her jaw.

She stumbled back and I got my knife out. I threw it and it plunged into her neck. Lunging for her rifle I kicked out and forced my boot's heel into a man's knee. He howled and fell to his other knee. Before I could shoot someone tackled me from behind. I was on my back in a split second and punches rained from above, each of the crashing into my cheeks and jaw. I felt the tear of my cheeks and the splitting of the scar down my right eye. My head jackhammered against the cold metal and made my world blur.

There were at least twenty soldiers in here. Outnumbered, but not out classed.

I gripped onto the man's wrists and squeezed. My metal fists crunching through his bones like twigs. He shrieked and I slammed a fist into his nose, his head snapped back and he fell to the floor. They swarmed me now, becoming a mass of kicks, knives, punches, swear words and stray bullets.

I kicked and punched. I slit their throats and broke their necks. I let the Unit show me what to do, because after all, I was just following orders. I made sure they died instantly, without feeling as much pain as they had to.

I was wet again. Drenched in blood and gagging from the metallic smell of blood and rancid smell of bowls loosening and emptying. I was surrounded by bodies, all of them painting the white corridor red. My stomach retaliated and pushed out nothing, but it ached and raked pain through my body. Strong enough to keep me hunched over and gasping.

More footsteps. Coming from behind me. The person upstairs looking out for me had checked out, I'd disgusted them, and I'd disgusted myself.

A gasp and the sound of retching followed the pause of the footsteps. I swayed onto my feet and strapped the whiskered mask across my nose and mouth, the foul smell partially blocked off now. A girl was leaning against the wall and wiping her forearm across her mouth. Long purple hair and a stud on her cheek, she didn't look like a soldier. She wasn't built like one, but her eyes were sharp and intelligent.

I pulled my knife out of a man's skull. I was numb all over. I just wanted to get over this nightmare, I wanted to get back and shower and talk to Tohka and bury this deep down. I flipped the knife and threw it at the girl with the stud.

She'd closed the gap whilst I'd been picking up the knife. Less than a meter from me, so the blade sunk deep into her chest. She paused for a split second as she coughed up blood. And she took a step forward, and then another. A smile was on her face. A smile. A fucking smile.

The tears broke and dampened the masks padding. The headache punching through my skull and buckling my knees. The girl was still standing, but that wasn't the shocking part. She was hugging me. That was the shocking part.

"It's so nice to see you again, Dan," she whispered into my ear. Warm breath and a voice close to breaking. Her cool tears a river down my neck.

My breaths caught in my throat. My heart beat paused and my lungs seized. Dan. One of them had said my name. How did she know my name? I didn't even know her. Was I supposed to? She'd said Dan. Not Daniel. She'd said that like she knew, not just a lucky guess, like we'd been friends.

Her body fell from mine and she added to the pile around me, purple hair dying red in the puddle at my feet.

Alarms began blaring, shocking my shaking body into action. Orders, Dan. Fucking orders. But the girl had known my name. She'd known me! She'd hugged me after I'd put a knife into her freaking chest! She'd smiled and said my name with fucking confidence. Friends, were we friends? I scanned her face, still smiling, but eyes far off. A gut feeling, and this time I let it be.

I'd once known her, hadn't I?

"Hey!" a man raged. "Who the fuck are you?!"

He opened fire before I could answer. I wasn't going to answer, anyway. I was crying and choking on my own words, nothing was going to come out. The information center was above me, but I couldn't go there. I couldn't think straight. I didn't want to kill anyone else.

I didn't want to kill someone who knew me.

I sprinted towards the sewer door, tripping over myself as more bullets tore through the air past my head and blew apart the metal corridor. Shards flew past me and cut away at my face and shrieked against the metal mask.

I was sucking in air and running as fast as I could. My boots slamming against the floor and out into the sewer. Past the dead couple as more soldiers followed. I leaped and clambered onto the catwalk, the soldiers threw flash bangs and my world shook. The catwalk shook as more of them followed. No more killing, just getting the hell out of here.

So I stripped off the blood coated jacket and tore of my mask. I sprinted into the darkness with my heart raging and my throat as thin as a straw.

I needed answers. And I needed them right fucking now.