(A/N: Whaaaaat?!? I actually updated the story?!? I'm shocked. But you can forget about the regular updates twice a week because...yeah, I'm too lazy to do that. Don't worry, I'll post a new chapter every time I write one)

You two sneak through the camp. You pull out the compass you found in the tent and ask, "Ok, let's take a chance. Which direction do you want to go?" You turn around to look at him when you find that he's gone. Oh no, you mutter to yourself. Should you go? Should you look for him? Your conscience overrules your choice and you decide to go look for him.

You frantically search the camp, terrified of being discovered. Finally, you see the shadowy figure of your fellow prisoner. He's standing outside a tent, with his ear against the side. You wave to him, and he holds up his finger to signal you to wait. You silently sighed, and bit your lip and looked around. After what seemed like an eternity, the boy finally runs back to you, doing his best to not cough. Once he was close enough, you yanked him over. "What the heck? Why did you run off?" you whisper to him. "The camp is to the Northwest. And I know that in a few days, they're going to attack the camp from the west. So you're welcome." He coughs as you look at him in amazement and whisper, "Well, I-I. Thank you. Um, we need to get going."

The two of you leave the camp, and start walking Northwest. The moon is bright, which helps you to not get lost. "So, what's your name?" you ask, avoiding the awkward silence. "Theodore Melwill," he says, and is confused by your shocked face. "Are your parents Samantha and Theodore?" He looks at you with his face twister further into confusion, and replies, "Uh, yeah, they are...do you know them?"

"Yes! When I...when I first came to New York, I stayed with your family for a while. They mentioned that their son was in the army. I'm just surprised I actually have met you," you say, excitement dripping from your voice. "What a small world.

Theodore looks over at you and asks, "So, what's your name? Your real name." "Um," you nervously wring your hands, "I was going by Samuel Twain, but my real name is Y/N. Y/N L/N." He nods his head thoughtfully and asks, "No offense, but why would a girl want to join the war? Wouldn't you rather be home, cooking or something?"

There's a moment when you really want to punch a person in the face.

But then you realize they don't know any better.

"No. Not at all. I joined the war because I believe in freedom for everybody, no matter their gender, skin color, age, etc." Theodore nods and says, "I agree. I think that's-" he stops walking for a moment to cough. You stop a few yards ahead of him and turn around when you notice that his coughing is not going away.

"Theodore? Or you okay?" You make your way to him, where he's now on his knees trying to catch his breath. "Oh my god, not now..." you mutter to yourself as you run over. "Calm down. Here, sit down here, we'll stop for a bit. Just calm down and you'll catch your breath."

You help him sit down and feel his forehead. His skin is scalding hot yet he is shivering. "It's okay..." you say as you stand up and look around. "We are fairly far away from the Redcoat camp, so we can rest for a bit."

You gathered some sticks and breathed a sigh of relief when you remember that you keep matches in you pockets. Thankfully, you find that you still have a few more, just enough to start a small fire. "I'm going to find more fire wood," you say to Theodore. He nods in response, not wanting to take the risk of talking in case it caused him to start coughing again.

You walk off into the woods, making sure not to stray too far away from Theodore. You manage to collect a few good pieces of wood before you make your way back to your makeshift camp. Almost forgetting the bad situation, you barely stumble into the camp and kill both you and Theodore.

You stumble back and observe the scene from behind a bush. A Redcoat holds a rifle, aimed at Theodore, who is holding a small pistol. It appears to be a standoff between the two, both avoiding fire in risk of being killed. The Redcoat must have seen the fire and come to inspect the source of the light.

However he found you didn't matter now. You just needed to find a way out of this situation.