Autumn had done something she wasn’t proud of; she had taken the picture. It burned a hole in her pocket, and in her heart. She wasn’t upset with Tate for ever being with Kyra, she was upset because no one had said anything about her.

Kyra was here at some point, walking the same halls Autumn was. Kyra, the one who killed thirty people and shot Autumn.

It made her feel sick to her stomach. The person who everyone assumed responsible for Mark’s murder had loved Tate. The biggest question being: had Tate loved her?

The thought kept her up at night. For the past week, things seemed different. Every time Tate touched her, she got the same heart beat skipping spark she usually got. Then, she’d think of Kyra, and would feel disgusted.

Kyra was a murderer; she was a killer. What caused those? Judging by the picture, she wasn’t always those things. What caused Kyra to become Kyra?

Autumn had managed to slip away while Tate worked on a few things. He still refused to let her walk around on her own, but he had work to do. The council demanded he write them a report analyzing the outcome of something. What it was, Tate wouldn’t say. Autumn convinced him to let her go to Cade’s, which was where she was headed on her own.

She hadn’t been able to speak to Tate about the photo. It sat right in her pocket, yet she couldn’t say a word. How could she ask him?

Shaking her head, Autumn tried to push the thoughts away. She was almost to Cade’s. She wanted to ask him about it first. Stepping into his office, Autumn gasped.

“Cade!” She shouted, shocked and terrified, as she rushed toward him. Cade laid sprawled out on the ground, his chair tipped over and his cane to fair across the room for him to reach. “Are you alright?”

“Go away!” Cade was facing away from her, but Autumn could tell by his tone of voice that he was crying.

“Cade, please let me help yo-”

“I don’t need any damn help!” He growled. Autumn had never seen this side of him. Ignoring his wishes, she darted for the cane. She snatched it from under the few tables he had on the other side of the room. They reminded Autumn of the octagonal shaped lab tables from high school.

Handing it to him, he ripped it from her hands.  Cade propped himself up against the wall, resting his hand against his forehead in attempt to hide his face.

“I’m not weak,” he shook his head, inhaling sharply.

“No one said you were,” Autumn hovered over him, unsure of what to do.

“I’m not weak!” He shouted.

“Come on, let’s get off the ground.” Cade hesitated.

“I’m not,” he whispered. Autumn assisted Cade, helping him off the ground and shuffling him toward his seat. Autumn set it upright, Cade plopping down into his chair. Wiping his face with the back of his hand, he stared off into space. “Thank you,” he muttered as Autumn sat next to him.

“How long were you like that?” Autumn wondered. He took in a few quick breaths, his face red.

“An hour or so . . . Please just . . . don’t tell Clarke about this.” Cade glanced in her direction, the look in his eyes breaking her heart.

“Why does it matter if I tell Clarke?” Autumn’s voice was gentle as pain flashed in his eyes. He bore down at his lap. “You know you can tell me anything Cade, right? These past two and a half months you’ve . . . you’ve been my friend,” she rested her hand on his. “You’ve been my best friend.” He puffed some air out, his breath trembling.

“I’m scared,” he admitted, daring to speak after minutes of agonizing silence.

“What are you scared of?” Autumn slid her hand back into her own lap, scooting closer.

“Of how you’ll look at me when I tell you the truth,” Cade’s eyes found hers again.

“Truth?” Autumn questioned.

“Of why I am who I am.” Autumn wasn’t sure what to say. She had never seen Cade without a smile on his face. She hadn’t ever seen him so serious. “Someone did this to me,” he eyed his leg.

“Who?” Autumn wanted to know if that person was around, she wanted to punch them in the face. Cade didn’t speak for some time, his eyes wandering.

“Kyra,” he finally blurted out, studying Autumn for a response. Autumn wasn’t sure exactly what to say; so she said nothing. She dug into her pocket, set the picture on the counter, and slid it to him.

Cade raised a brow, turning the photo over and nodding.

“So you know?” He questioned.

“I found it. I was coming to talk to you about it.”

“Never mind,” Cade shook his head, fingers reaching for the keyboard. “Ask me whatever you wanted.”

“You can tell me, only if you want,” Autumn was dying to know more. She was curious to see the negative effect Kyra left on him; it must have been very bad.

“I used to be like Tate, Clarke, and David.”

“Used to?”

“It was five years ago. I was what they call around here a Traveler. People saw me as this brave guy who wasn’t afraid to go out and face the humans to get what we needed.” Autumn thought back to Tate and Clarke being in the store; they were Traveler’s. “Clarke, Tate, Kyra and I used to be a group. We’d leave together, get some medicine, food, any supplies someone needed from stores run by other Specials.”

He paused, swallowing the lump in his throat, before taking in a deep breath and continuing.

“We went out on a simple mission. We were just getting more medical supplies for Ezra, and some other miscellaneous things for the council. Clarke and I were outside talking, waiting for Kyra and Tate to bring out the other stuff; they’d gone inside to get the supplies and speak to the Joseph, the guy running the store.” Cade paused.

“It’s okay,” she squeezed his shoulder. “Take your time.” Cade took in a deep breath before going on:

Clarke and Cade waited outside for Tate and Kyra, whom were inside with Joseph. Clarke was smacking on a piece of gum she’d taken when Joseph left the room. She blew a bubble, it popping loudly.

“That would be annoying,” Cade whined.

“Oh shut up,” Clarke rolled her eyes, running a hand through her short hair; which always appeared to be a lighter blonde when they went outside. Clarke leaned against the bed of the truck, Cade tapping his foot.

“That would be annoying,” Clarke mocked, Cade laughing. “Can’t you just enjoy being out in the sun? We never get to.”

Something smashed inside, the sound echoing off the large walls. Cade peered at the doors before eyeing Clarke, who was doing the same.

“What was that?” Cade questioned.

“I’ll check it out,” Clarke said, already reaching into her boot for her knife.

“I’m coming,” Cade announced.

“No, we need someone to stay with the truck,” Clarke argued, heading towards the door; knife in hand.

“Oh come on! Why do I get stuck with the lame jobs?” Cade sneered.

“Because there’s no computers out here for you to master,” Clarke shouted back as she disappeared inside. Cade tried to listen to her, he really did. But it was only a matter of seconds before he realized he didn’t take orders from Clarke, and charged after her.

“Stop!” Joseph shouted as soon as Cade entered. He jumped behind the nearest machine, crawling behind box after box to reach a spot where he could see something. It took him a few tries, but he finally found the right spot to stand. “Drop the knife!”

“What the hell are you doing!?” Clarke demanded of Joseph, whom had Tate in a very tight choke hold. Tate’s face was turning red as he attempted to claw at Joseph’s arms.

“Take another step and I’ll break his neck,” Joseph growled, eyeing the knife. Clarke dropped it, it clanging against the tile.

“Joseph please,” Clarke begged, watching as Tate’s hands fell against his side; he was fading away.

“Let him go,” someone spoke. Kyra stepped out from behind Joseph, gun in hand. Joseph did as she said, releasing Tate. He dropped to the ground, curling into a ball as he gasped for air, nursing his healing broken rib.

Kyra shuffled around Joseph, standing a few feet across from Clarke. Clarke narrowed her eyes, baling her hand into a fist and she started towards Joseph; ready to give him a black eye. Clarke only got a few steps forward, stopping when she saw Kyra’s gun pointed directly at her.

“Don’t,” Kyra warned.

“Kyra, what are you doing?” Tate questioned, chest heaving as he rose to his feet.

“I didn’t want to do this in front of her,” Kyra snapped. “You were supposed to get him and be quiet about it.”

“He fought back,” Joseph argued.

“Might as well tell the whole gang now. Come on out Cade! We both know you didn’t stay outside!” Cade didn’t move a muscle, hoping she’d give up. “One!” She shouted, Cade felt like a child. He was so scared, still didn’t move. “Two!” She cocked the gun.  Cade rushed out, hands up.

“Stop!” Cade shouted, joining Clarke. She sent him a nasty glare as he set his hand down.

“There we go,” Kyra laughed.

“What’s going on?” Tate questioned, obviously confused.

“I’m sick of hiding Tate,” Kyra began, shaking her head. “Aren’t you? Aren’t you tired of hiding from the world?”

“Great, she lost it,” Clarke mumbled under her breath.

“I’m sick of being stuck inside that building. I’m sick of the council telling me what to do and me . . .  doing it! Why do I have to live like a rat when these humans don’t!?”

“No,” Cade understood what Kyra was getting at before anyone. He glanced at Clarke, who was giving him a confused glance. “She’s talking about joining them, the superius.”

“Ahh, you catch on quick Cade,” Kyra scoffed. “We prefer the exterminators.”

“Such a weird name,” Cade said.

“Why?” Clarke questioned.

“Because that’s exactly what we're going to do. They’ll never accept our kind, they’ll never understand us. Why do they get to live in the sun when we have to hide in the shadows?”

“This isn’t you,” Tate finally spoke up, stepping towards her. “Kyra, this isn’t you.”

“But it is, Tate! I’ve never been so sure of anything before. The human race is a dying breed! All they do is keep killing each other off! Soon enough, they’ll kill the only planet we have left and then what will we do?”

“Just put the gun down,” Tate’s voice was soft.

“Tate, join me.” He stopped in his tracks.

“What?”

“Help me. We can get rid of everyone, everything in our way! Why do we have to hide when they get to roam around? Tate, don’t you see? There beneath us. They are scum, we are their superiors. It’s time we got treated like it. We can make a life for ourselves.”

Kyra set the gun down, interlocking her hand with Tate’s.

“We can create a world, a new one for us. One where we could live, where we could start a life together. No more council telling us what to do,” Kyra’s eyes became glassy as she spoke. “No more hiding, running around, always looking over our shoulder.”

“Kyra, this isn't you.”

“The old Kyra is dead, Tate. I’m stronger than she was, I’m fighting for what I want.”

“And what do you want!?”

“I want them dead!” She paused, an eerie silence falling over the room. “Come with me,” Kyra whispered.

“Tate, you’re not seriously buying this are you?” Clarke questioned, eyeing Joseph.

“Tate, they broke you,” her eyes gestured toward his ribs. “They beat you, all for breaking one of their rules. The council’s corrupt, there punishments are cruel. When you investigated into your father’s death after they’d told you to stop, they beat you. You were twelve, Tate, and they beat you . . . I love you and I need you to do this with me. Help me lead a revolution.” Tate studied her face, he didn’t know what to do.

“Tate?” Cade wondered.

“Kyra, I love you too,” Kyra grinned. “Come back with me, we’ll talk to the council about getting some time outside.” Kyra ripped her hands from his.

“You’re talking about going back there?”

“Kyra, you can’t murder billions of innocent people!” Tate shouted, stepping back.

“You’re choosing them, the humans?” Something inside Kyra snapped. A few tears raced down her cheeks, but she wiped them away. “After everything that’s happened, you still choose to listen to them!”

“Kyra, please. I know you don’t like being stuck inside. But please, for me, don’t do this. This isn’t who you are. You aren’t a murderer, Kyra. Think of what your father would have wanted. Think of us.”

“My dad would have wanted this more than anything,” Kyra swallowed the lump in her throat. “I thought you would chose me.”

“I do chose you, the good Kyra. The one that see’s this is insane.”

“I’m sorry Tate.”

“Sorry fo-” Kyra hit Tate, hard, with the gun. He smashed to the ground, blood dripping from his lip and onto the tile.

“You don’t tell me what to do anymore,” Kyra pointed her gun at Clarke, who was charging toward her. Clarke came to a halt. “None of you do! I’m going to enjoy the sunlight, I’m going to enjoy being top of the food chain. Cade, you’re smart. We could use someone like you. Clarke, you’re fast and a fighter. Fight for something; fight for freedom.”

“I’d rather die than join you,” Clarke spat.

“Then you will.” Cade rushed forward, shoving Clarke out of the way as Kyra fired. Her bullet pierced through Cade’s leg, just below the knee, as Clarke stumbled to the side. Pain shot up through his entire leg, finding its way to every single part of his body. Cade let out a heart wrenching cry of agony, crashing onto his back.

He clutched his leg, but the pain was immense. He couldn’t think straight, all he knew was pain. It hurt to breathe, to think, to cry.

“Cade!?” Clarke was at his side in a second, resting her hands over the wound on his leg. The second she touched it, he cried even louder.

“I knew close minded Clarke wouldn’t understand, so I laced the bullet with something a little special; impetum. The most dangerous poison known to fortis, specials, whatever the hell you call us.”

Tate sprinted over to Cade, collapsing at his side. Clarke pulled up Cade’s pants, exposing the bullet hole. Blood poured from it, however, his veins were visible; they were black.

“You can see the poison taking over.” The black traveled up the vein, showing through his skin. Cade broke out into an uncontrollable sweat, his hands trembling. “He’ll be dead within ten minutes.”

“Kyra please, don’t do this!” Tate cried.

“I already did . . . We could have done this together, Tate. But you chose them.” Kyra stormed off, Joseph right behind her. “Goodbye Tate.”

Cade’s body twitched and jerked, as if he was having a seizure. Blood oozed from the corner of his mouth. He screeched, his throat burning from shouting.

“Tate, we’re losing him.” Tate was staring at the door where Kyra had left, eyes filled with tears. “Tate!” He snapped himself out of whatever trance he had been in, gripping Cade’s wrist.

“His pulse is slowing.”

“Cade, I’m so sorry,” Clarke whispered.

Cade fell silent when he had finished his story. He had begun crying again when Kyra threatened Clarke, only stopping after he had finished. His fingers ran over the scar left behind from the bullet; he couldn’t feel it.

“I’m sorry,” Autumn spoke softly.

“Kyra was my friend, and she did this to me.” Cade couldn’t even glance Autumn’s way. “I was bedridden for months. It took me more than a year to be able to walk again. And she did this to prove what?”

Autumn was at a loss for words. Her vision was a blurry mess, she was unable to see Cade’s reaction. Cade had been her best friend, he didn’t deserve what had happened to him.

“When you ask Tate about it, be careful. It . . . it broke him. Kyra leaving, becoming who she is now, doing what she does, it hurts him.”

“Why didn’t you want Clarke to know?” Autumn questioned, not wanting to even think of asking Tate to speak about such a painful memory.

“After all of this happened, she felt so guilty. She used to be somewhat bearable, but the old Clarke’s gone now; just like Kyra . . . just like my leg.”