Keaton knew something was wrong as he followed a stoic guard down a long, never-ending hallway.  His palms were sweaty, and he constantly rubbed them on his thighs, trying to appear more calm than he was.  But that wasn't Keaton.  Ever since that terrible night, four years ago, he knew something was up with the Commanders of the Shaw Compound.

He felt the memory fling past his eyelids, ready to draw him into the nightmare, but he refused to let it take him. Remembering that night was almost as painful as the dream of that woman crying over him.

Keaton shook his head, annoyed at himself. Now, his mind flooded with pictures with two terrible pictures, one completely real, and the other a possible figment of his imagination. And often, it seemed as though his head wouldn't stop opening up to the horrors the world around him had to offer. They said that everyone was perfectly safe in Shaw. So why did he feel like everything was about to fall apart? Ugh! He sent the images away, head spinning. Why in the hell am I so nervous? Yes, he got worried often - all the time, actually - but something really felt... off. Shaw was being consumed by something, like it was the prey, a rabbit running from a wolf.

Keaton had this sickening thought that, in time, that wolf would catch up to him.

•

Nix waited patiently at his desk for the last of the subjects to arrive: a boy by the name of Cyran Kal.  That kid never managed to show up on time, especially when things went bad.  A little like how things were going now.  Hurry up, Kal!  His eyes traveled over the rest of 13.  They seemed fairly unperturbed.  All except one.  The newest.  Probably the best of all of them. 

Keaton Sailor.

His knees bounced with a nervous energy that made Fallow's eyebrow crease.  The boy couldn't know, could he?  But as soon as the thought entered his mind, he threw it into the furthest corner of his brain.  It wasn't possible.  Only he, Oralie, and a few select officials knew  of their precarious situation.  So it begged the question:

What had Sailor so anxious?

Before he could analyze if further, Kal entered, and Nix promptly stood up.  "Alright," he started, terse voice breaking the soon to be not-so-calm silence, "I know that we've taken you from your places, but this is an extreme matter.  I cannot stress that enough."  Nix let his words hang out there in the open, watching panic fall onto each subject's face.  Again, except for Sailor.  The panic had already been there.  "We have reason to believe that our security has been breached. 

"Now, we need you to talk to everyone in Shaw.  Not a single person is to go unnoticed. Even myself."

And then a new voice rang through the air; one that didn't have any business talking.  "Sir, may I ask what has happened?"  The others looked at Keaton as if he had grown two heads.  Any normal boy would've blushed, and shrunk down, but this one didn't.  He just kept staring straight at Nix.

An official stepped forward, ready to grab the subject, but the doctor held up a hand.  "No.  It's alright.  We can tell them."  Their eyes bugged when they heard his statement.  No one practically interrupted Dr. Nix Fallow and got away with it.  But Nix was finding himself growing fond of the subject, the more he saw and read of him.  I guess this really is a day for turnarounds.  As usually, he wanted nothing to do with any of the subjects, personally.  "Let's just say that our situation has to do with-"

"Dr. Fallow!"  A second official burst through the set of double doors.  "I am so sorry to interrupt," he added as an afterthought as his gaze flicked over every person in the room. 

Apparently, Nix was right before in his thoughts, because he pushed the matter aside.  "Doesn't matter.  What's wrong?" 

"The patient brought in today?  Well, the case has worsened."  The doctor let out a string of expletives, moving out of the room, calling over his shoulder:

"Come along.  You're going to see exactly the power of these rebels."

•

Rette got up from the ground, sweat falling over the ridge of her brow to sting her eyes.  Her muscles quaked, unwanted fatigue settling in.  "How..." she panted, "in the... hell... are you... this... good?"  She slowly walked over to the edge of their sparring mat, and picked up her water bottle.  She downed nearly all of it in two huge gulps.

Dare only smirked at her.  "What can I say, Waar?  I'm a natural."  She knew he chose to ignore the scowl she was currently sending his way.

"Well, Mr Natural, would you mind taking it easy?" Rette gestured to the other pairs around her. "No one else is going crazy. And I'm your friend!"

Ever think that you're more than a-

No! She refused to finish the thought. Not going to happen. Especially now. "Why would I go easy when I could possibly be awesome enough to join my best friend in a super secret spy Squad?" That condescending little smirk still sat there on his stupid, condescending lips.

Not that she was looking. Not that she ever looked.

Tearing her eyes away from his mouth - NO! HIS CHIN! her mind screamed - she met his gaze once more, and saw something akin to curiosity alight there. She gulped, cheeks burning like fire. Dare knew. He knew she had definitely been looking at his lips.

His brows wiggled. Rette could feel the tips of her ears stating to match her face. Ugh! I hate him! But a little voice in the back of her head decided to speak against that.

Everyone knows you're lying to yourself, Margarette.

"Shut up! I know!" It wasn't until Dare's eyebrows rose to his hairline did she realize she had uttered her question aloud.

"Did you say something, love?" She could hear the barely concealed laugh in his voice.

"Will you just- Whatever. Never mind." Throwing her water bottle back down, she stalked over to their mat. "Let's go."

He hesitated. And after all that stupid stuff about Keaton's Squad. His bottom lip was clenched between his teeth, as if he actually had to think about whether he wanted to fight her.

Unable to resist the jab to his character, she said one sentence under her breath. One she made sure he heard. "Gosh, Elphy. Are you chicken or what?"

"You're going to regret that, Waar."

•

Keaton walked alone, at the back of the group, mulling over what Fallow had told them back in their meeting space. His bad feeling from the morning couldn't be a coincidence. That, and this event -whatever it was- had to be connected somehow.

He was enjoying the silence, finding solace in it, when another member started to walk beside him.  "You're the new one, right?"  The boy didn't look over at him, keeping his gaze locked on the back of Fallow's head. 

"Yeah," Keaton responded, "I guess I am."

This time, when talking to him, he made eye contact, and Keaton saw the mirth floating in his eyes.  "The only one of us that has the balls to interrupt the doc."

Keaton joined the boy in his laughter, sticking out a hand.  "Keaton Sailor, 753."

"Cyran Kal, 698," he said, reciprocating the action.  Out of the corner of his eye, Keaton could see this Cyran guy staring at him.

In time, he'd come to realize that 698 was analyzing him.  "So."  Cyran shoved his hands into his pockets, patting lightly on his thighs.  "Fallow really seems to think you're something special." 

Keaton lifted a shoulder.  "Honestly, I don't know."  He lowered his voice and continued, "I try to stay away from him."

"I can't say I blame you."

They stayed in silence for a while, Keaton staring at the floor, and Cyran still shooting daggers at Fallow.  Keaton couldn't figure this kid out.  He seemed like a good guy, but... that look.  What in the hell is up with that?

Wanting to now more about this anomaly, he broke the silence.  "What do you think the emergency is?"

That took the anger right out of the kid's features.  He locked his eyes on Keaton's, punctuating his next words with a laugh.  "I think I can hazard a guess."

•

She groaned, every part of her body dead, as she plopped down into bed.  Her voice was muffled by the pillow.  "I hate you, Dare!"

He tsked, making Rette want to cry.  "I told you  you were going to regret calling me Elphy."  Moving her head slightly, she glared at him from the corner of her eye. 

"Doesn't mean you have to go all psycho on me."

"I didn't!"  He raised his hands in defense, letting a smile crawl onto his face.  "I just participated to the best of my abilities."

Rette dropped her head again, not wanting to deal with him.  "Whatever.  I'm too tired to talk to you.  But I'll get you-"

Whatever she was going to say next was cut off when their door slammed into the wall.  The two of their gazed flew up in surprise to their other roommate. 

He looked a haggard mess.  Cheeks red, hair tousled more than usual, out of breath, panic etched onto every line of his face. 

He inhaled, and let out three words on the exhale: "We're not safe."

Keaton collapsed, eyes rolling back.