The Hound's Story

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The weather was perfect. Cool, but not cold. Warm, but not hot. The night sky was clouded, but not so densely you couldn't see the moon, or stars, twinkling against their velvet black background. The clouds were dark and grey, heavy with the promise of rain the next day. On the wind, a chilly breeze blew every so often, shuffling branches, shifting the shadows of the overgrown city of New Haven and its surrounding forests. Perfect for making an undetected getaway.

Chloe Rose White was standing high in the remains of an old building. One of the tall ones, that used to stretch high in the sky. Really all that was left of the building were three floors with the full package, (walls, ceiling, and floor), while the rest of the building was all crumbling, rusting framework. But, there happened to be an old staircase in the back of the third floor that, if you followed it all the way up, would eventually rise to the single remaining floor, the thirteenth.

Not many were brave enough to venture up the old staircase. Parts of it were missing, and once you got to the top, the floor had multiple holes in it, that, if you weren't walking carefully, you could easily fall through to your death. As children, the citizens of New Haven often dared each other to climb to the top in the dark. If you were brave enough, you were one of the cool kids.

But Chloe wasn't there on some silly initiation business. No. She was on a mission. She had a bag strapped tightly to her hip, a quiver of arrows resting on her back, a silver bow in one hand, and a pair of binoculars in the other. Next to her, on the floor was a bucket of gasoline she'd taken out of as many, empty, old, wheeled, machines as she could, and a pile of rolled up socks.

With the binoculars, Chloe watched the perimeter of the city for Militia. They were always on duty, making sure no one without a traveling license got in or out of the city. She bit her lip. Please let this work. She thought to herself as she watched the group of Militia guards on duty at the east entrance to the city. Her job was to distract the guards and signal a group of runaways hiding in the shadows. She checked the pocket in her bag, just to be sure her traveling license was still there. They were precious things, and nearly impossible to get. You had to take five years worth of tests to get them, and the Militia was making it especially hard now that the rumors about Utopia were spreading like weeds. But Chloe knew a guy who'd forged hers for her. Still, the guards at the gate held the right to deny you, even with a traveling license, if they thought you were suspicious, or "incapable of handling the wilderness." Something about not wanting to risk the already dwindling population, but Chloe knew better. They didn't care whether you lived or died.

Placing down her binoculars, she rubbed the back of her neck and groaned, setting about her work. Quickly and quietly, she soaked each of the sock bundles in the gasoline, then lodged them each on the tip of an arrow. Three in all. One was for the guards. The other two were to signal the group, lead by her twin, hiding under a tree just a couple hundred feet from the entrance.

Taking a deep breath, Chloe raised her silver bow and lit the socked end of the arrow so that it's flames illuminated her little watching post. Slowly, she pulled the arrow back and let out her breath a little at a time as she aimed carefully.

Then she released, sending the flaming arrow, streaking through the air. Quickly, Chloe picked up her binoculars and looked. She was supposed to distract the guards, then send a signal to the others that it was all clear. If they moved, and the guards hadn't seen her arrow, it was all over. Through the lenses, she watched as all of the guards left their post to chase after the arrow.

Once they were gone, Chloe breathed a sigh of relief, shooting two more flaming arrows. This time though, they shot through the air, piercing the bark of the tree that the runaways were under. "You better grab those arrows Cleo, or I'll kill you." She grumbled to herself as she grabbed the bucket of gasoline. Working quickly, she destroyed her evidence, and made her way carefully across the crumbling floorboards to the stairs. Moving as quickly as possible, without killing herself, Chloe took the stairs two at a time. On her way up early that morning, she'd memorized where the holes were and knew where to leap, swinging across the gap on the occasional pole, or flying through empty air, only hoping she'd land on the other side.

At the bottom, she brushed herself off and made her way to the east enterance. When she got there, the group was nowhere to be found, and the guards were back in place. She could only hope they'd gotten away safely. "Looking for something ma'am?" One of the Militia guards asked, and she whirled her head around to look at him. Shit. Maybe he'd hold her back because he thought the way she was looking around frantically was suspicious. Had she already messed things up? How long would Cleo and the others wait for her until they realized she'd failed them?

As she looked at the Militia officer, she wondered if he worked with her parents. Do they know them? She thought silently. Make jokes over lunch? Go on missions with them? "Uhm yeah." She said, pulling out her forged traveling license and handing it to him. "My name is Jessica Jones." She said with a smile. "I'm headed towards Westwood. My aunt lives there and is really sick." Her lies were smooth, but there was always the chance that he could hold her back, or notice a flaw in her forged papers. Silently, Chloe prayed that he couldn't hear her heart thudding away in her chest.

---

The Militia had control of the best in-tact building in New Haven. It was a skyscraper with a needle that reached high above, even the tallest trees and sat directly in the center of the city. It was the only building that pierced the thick cloak of trees that hovered over New Haven. It was evident that the city had not always been overgrown. That another life had died somehow, but the Militia had long-since stopped teaching the history of The Blackout. Knowledge meant power, and the Militia wanted to be the seat of all that power. So, while they still had school, only the richest could afford it, and they didn't teach anything about the Blackout. History began, when the Militia began. Those who were lucky enough to make it into the Militia, had the privilege of learning what happened from a special training school that they had to attend for two years before being appointed full officer.

The whole of the Militia headquarters was kept in tact. Only a few, rarely used floors at the top were crumbling and Scarlet Rivers and her brother, leaders of the Militia, made sure that the building was kept in glittering condition, shining like the sun.

"M-M-M-Miss Rivers?" Scarlet heard a stutter and looked up from a file on her desk. Paper was another rarity, but The Militia had scores of it. She was a workaholic, so sitting at her desk, flipping through file after file at 12:13 in the morning, by candlelight, was not unusual for her. Candles. Another rarity that the Militia had boxes and boxes of.

"Yes Bret? Spit it out, you know I hate when you stutter." Scarlet said, leaning back in her chair to place her hazel gaze on the small man standing in her doorway. Absently, she used one hand to twirl the tip of a knife on the surface of her desk smoothly.

"There's been a um... A breakout ma'am. Runaways." He came forward cautiously and placed something on her desk before sprinting away, ducking out of the doorway just in time to miss the knife Scarlet had hurled after him, lodging itself hilt-deep, in her door. Scarlet glanced across the room to where her brother sat in his desk.

"Do you always have to be like that with him Scar? The man is just trying to bring you some news. He's afraid to even pass you in the hallway." Her brother groaned, rubbing his temples.

Scarlet shrugged. "Good." She smirked simply. "Keeping messenger boy in his place." She glanced down at her desk and grabbed what Bret had set there. It was an arrow. Scarlet's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. The end had a little sock balled up on it, and it smelled of gasoline. A flaming arrow? Why was that significant? She looked closer. Wrapped tightly around the arrow's silver shaft, was a little piece of paper. Raising one eyebrow, she looked up to see that her brother was now hovering over her shoulder, looking extremely interested.

With a sigh, she unrolled the piece of paper. On it, six simple words were scrawled. Catch me if you can, bitch. The initials, C.W at the bottom. "Fuck." She heard her brother whisper breathily behind her and she whirled in her chair, taking him by surprise as she stood quickly, advancing on him.

"Do you know something about this that I don't? Because if you value your life," she said, pushing the arrow tip against his throat. "You'll tell me now. Why the hell do you think it's okay to keep something from me?"

"Relax sis, yes I know something, I was going to tell you in the morning." He rubbed his neck. "You know that city everyone's been rumoring about?"

Scarlet eased off him and grumbled. "Don't remind me."

"Anyway, you know the officers who lost their children quite a while back? No? Maybe you were too young. Anyway, agents John and Taylor White had three missing daughters. We recovered one of them the other night, planning something against us."

Scarlet rolled her eyes. "Who gives a rats ass? Throw her in the Pits like we usually do. Honestly, you've gone soft."

Her brother just rolled his eyes at her. "God you're such an idiot sometimes." He hissed. "Anyway, I was going to throw her in the pits, when they brought in another prisoner. A protester who's brother had been planning something against us too. Seeing it as more than a coincidence, I decided to have them locked up for a few days in case something happened." He pulled the arrow out of her hand and waved it gently in front of her face. "Looks like I was right. C.W is the initials of the girl's twin sisters. One of them, John White told me, was an excellent shot with a bow. He taught her himself. Looks like we've got a pack of runaways on our hands. Headed for Utopia."

Scarlet leaned back to take in everything he was telling her for a moment before sighing. "Alright. You rally together a team to do a little hunting. I'll talk to the prisoners and get them prepped for a trip." She grinned wickedly and turned on her heel, headed towards the stairs, where she descended to the basement. In the basement, she moved down the rows of doors. There was a woman standing outside one of them, hand placed gently on it. "Taylor White?" Scarlet said, gesturing to the door. "I take it your daughter's in there?"

"Can I see her? Please? Just once?" The woman asked, brown eyes pleading.

"Alright, stop whining. You can sit in on the interrogation.

Scarlet had the guard blindfold and handcuff the girl, Kyerie White as well as the boy, Nathaniel Lochness, and lead them to the interrogation room. A blank white room with a silver table in the center, candles on either side, two chairs on one side of the table, and one on the other. The right wall was all cabinets. Once in the room, Scarlet told Taylor to stand in the corner, and whipped off the blind folds of the prisoners.

"I'm the Militia leader. Scarlet Rivers. Welcome to hell." She said with a smirk, glaring down at them with cold hazel eyes.

---

With a sigh, he watched Scarlet go, then went out into the hallway to Bret's desk. "Bret," he said. "Gather this list of names for me." He placed a list on the desk and went back into his office.

Once they'd all arrived, he smiled. Vesper Norton, their tacker, Remy Carter, the Militia's best female hunter, and John Doe, another hunter whom had a reputation for not stopping once placed on a trail. "We've got an assignment." He said, proceeding to tell them about the runaways. "We will be setting out as soon as Miss Rivers gets back. Go and pack anything you'll need on a hunting mission and be back here in no less than a half an hour." He turned to Bret. "Scrape up files of whomever's missing in New Haven. I want names for these runaways."

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NOTE: Not going to post from Johnathon Thatcher until Fallen posts from Cleo, any runaways, I would suggest doing the same. If you have a Militia or prisoner character though, go ahead and post.

Sounds of a body being dragged by another form on a piece of rope were heard the the streets nearest to the Militia HQ. Sounds of curses and pleas, of grunts, and of cries; of shadows seemingly coming alive. Weapons were drawn at the sight of the pair, but were quickly lowered as their gaze turned to the figure in black, with only a half mask covering its lower face. A normal person would never have made the distinguish of whether it was male, or even female, but those who knew it best, would say that it was neither, but a beast trapped within a shell of a man. The man's eyes stared up at the two guards, and motioned for their assistance of the captive. He then held up a sheet of crumpled paper for their viewing. The paper had two faces printed on it in a rough sketching; one had a red X over the face, while the other had been left untouched. He began to point to a name below the unmarked face, and pointed at the writhing body behind him. "Sherill LeGasse?" One of the two guards repeated the name, but fumbled over the surname. He made it sound as though her name was Le-Gas, which made the man shrug unknowingly. With one finger, he pointed at the picture with an X over it, and slid it across his neck, then pointed towards the western edge of the city.

"Ah," said the guard, "So you were sent to find these two, but had to kill one. Is that correct?" At his nodding, the other simply shrugged his shoulders, then pointed his thumb behind him. "Might as well get inside. The Boss wants you." The cries from the woman had quickly turned to screams, when he entered the building. Hoots of laughter were soon heard, as well as a graphic detail of what they were going to do to her, as punishment for trying to leave the city. It was of no concern to him, however, which made his life easier.

The foyer of the building was not as grand as it once were, and was reminded repeatedly that it was probably owned by a prominent well-to-doer once upon a time. His mind had played his eyes well, in the beginning of his stay here, though, and had to wonder what it had used to be before the Militia took over. Every which way he had turned, there was always a new surprise for him. Whether it be a new room that was recently discovered by a group of raw recruits, or something someone had redecorated. Shaking his head to clear out the thoughts, he became painstakingly aware that most conversations within the area had ceased, and all eyes were turned on him. Remembering where he was, he quickly removed his half mask, and drew back his hood. A slight gasp came from his left, whereas a young woman simply shouted, "It's just the boss's hound. Everyone, just get back to work, and no gawking. If I find out yer not working, I'll send ye to the Pits meself." A small smile stretched the ruined face, as mask and hood were quickly secured in place.

The Hound, then, began to make his way towards the young woman, who had turned towards him, took his hand, and shook it. "Be nice to know that ye aren't dead yet, Hound. Looks like Ted owes me another 'undred. Two, me thinks." She chuckled in what he would call an "evil laugh" before continuing, "Aye, ye be wanting to see the boss." Her thumb jerked towards the back, "The stairs be right where they were the last time ye were here. Ain't no one has died yet from that ol' mess. That is, no one I have heard of." Another chuckle followed her statement, which turned into a sharp bark at an unknown layabout near a guard. With a small pat on her shoulder, and a wave with the back of her hand, he quickly set off towards the stairs.

Many had named the staircase "Treacherous Point" from the fact that it was far more likely that a person would die, rather than reached a floor he, or she, needed to access. Many of them would have rather taken the stairs closer to the Pits, than try their luck here. He could see a fresh smear of blood in the center, and wondered who was stupid enough to try their luck on his favorite area. Although he did not care much for the building itself, he did, however, enjoy this sort of staircase. More to the fact that it was more exposed to the elements than any other part of the building, and that it gave him a great work out at the end of a hunt. The time it took to reach the first landing, was only a hop, skip, and a jump, as the saying goes. One of which that needed no concentration, only common sense. All that needed to be done was to run to the side and jump. If you were lucky, you could make the landing in one try, but if you were not, you'd earn yourself a small scratch up and down your arms and/or legs.

The first landing was a breeze, as far as he was concerned, but what really mattered, to his mind at least, was the next hurtle. He needed to climb to get to the next landing, which was at least one hundred metres straight up, but it didn't concern him. After months of working with this area, he was able to create his own path up, and. By removing his weapon from its holster, and detaching its chain, he was able to use it as a sort of grappling hook, but without the hook. Earlier, he had created several spikes that would allow his chain to catch; it made it an easier climb. He would spend the next half hour trying to hook his chain into the first spike, then an additional ten minutes for each remain spike, after he climbed the first. When he reached the landing, however, he noticed that it was starting to crumble around the edges, but when he pulled himself onto it, it began to shift, crack, and crumble.

Mentally cursing himself, he walked towards the back of the landing, and quickly judged the distance between the landing, and the opening of the floor in front of him. Nodding slowly to himself, he charged the edge, just as it was beginning to break away, and leaped for the floor. His foot met the stone and steel floor, but it propelled him forward, causing him to roll down the hall for a few metres, before he hit something that caused him to splay out at an odd angle. A loud crash had signaled the end of the landing, as it tumbled down to the ground below. "Well," came a voice above him, "Guess we should seal off that side now, seeing as how you broke it completely." Staring towards the direction of the voice, a young guard waved his hand, then gently helped him to his feet. "Pretty sure everyone will know it was you who did that by tomorrow, but no matter." The guard's shoulders shrugged slowly, then waved, as he turned around to inspect the damage.

Looking about himself, the Hound gingerly lifted his chain from the floor, and secured it with his other weapon, before turning down the hall. The office wasn't that far away, now that he was on his designated floor, which hadn't worried him in the least. What did worry him, however, was the fact that no guards asked for his identification papers. His guess was that his commotion had made them curious enough to leave him be. He would need to have that rectified as soon as possible. A lithe figure had caught his eye, and noted her entrance into the office door. Curiosity had sparked his mind, but upon peering inside he noticed that it was only Remington, another silent killer like himself. The only difference was that he could never speak, nor make any sound, but she can, especially when she injured herself. By making a solid knock on the door, he waved at her, then waved at Mr. Rivers, of whom he had given his crumpled paper to with a shrug as he pointed at the X on one of the sketches.

"The Rivers want to see you, Mr. Norton." It was a smaller man who was holding his wrist which looked like it had been recently hurt, Ves raised an eyebrow at him, "One of the hunters? They are rather immature and, well, stupid." He had spotted the man from the window, and had already asked Emily to gather his hunting gear, it gave her something to do, and allowed him to get more information from the man... whoever he was. Probably just a lackey, or maybe a henchman? He never could tell the difference. The man was moving foot to foot debating on what actions he should take.. Ves had blatantly insulted a member of the Militia and so the Militia itself, but it was the woman who had hurt him for no reason save that she did not like her name... so he wanted to join in on the mocking of the stupid girl.

"Yes.. it was a hunter. Ms. Remmington." He said bitterly purposely using her name now that she was gone. Ves raised an eyebrow not knowing or caring who that was. Generally, he did not bother to learn the names of the Hunters who went with him on the trail. They were all the same in the end, full of self-importance, stupid, immature, and gun-ho. Honestly, they would get themselves killed in a week if he wasn't there to hold their hands all the time. They were good enough on short trips, but on the long trips... they were about as useless as a legless hooker.

"I would guess she is coming along as well? Great." Ves said with all the enthusiasm he could muster, "Nothing like a hot-head, 'tough', over-sensitive immature child. Just great." He said running his fingers through his hair. He had hoped the Rivers would have gotten somebody who was at least half-way competent, hell, he would take one that had a lick of sense, but even that would probably be asking too much. If he had the stomach for murder, he would just do it all himself. He would be able to do the jobs far faster, but he was no murderer. If the militia goons wanted to bloody their hands because they were too stupid to do the job right, let them.

"I'll be there." Ves said, patting the man on the back and telling him he should go to the Docs just down the road to make sure his wrist was alright. Guy seemed like a nice enough fellow, probably joined up because he had no other choice and had just found out that he was in way over his head. He sympathized with the guy, Ves was only in this business to ensure the Militia kept their dirty hands away from his house. He did not ask for anything in return other then their word that they kept their hands away from his daughter. Of course, he did not trust their word, but as long as he keep providing his services, he was sure they would leave him alone.

"Dad?" The small voice never failed to bring a smile to his face, and he turned to see her struggling with his pack... in her defense, it was a large pack. You did not travel light if you wanted to survive. You 'could' find berries, you 'could' happen to find edible roots, but only fools leave things to could. You always bring additional supplies. In the pack he had dried meats and fruits, nuts, gun cleaning kit, rope, a blanket, spare clothing, spare knives, whet stone, and a few other miscellaneous gear. He wouldn't bring it yet as he would pick it up before they set out. Sometimes they had him leave before them to secure the trail before it got cold, sometimes he left with the group itself, and he wasn't about to lug it around until he had to. Next to the pack was his rifle... but he did not need it now, his Ka-bar knife was still in its sheathe on his back pocket.

"Take care of yourself, and don't answer the door unless its me." Ves said, reminding her for what must have been the thousandth time, "I'll be back in a few hours at the most." He leaned down and kissed the top of her head before sliding out the door and into the overgrown streets. It was just another day in the hell pit that was New Haven.

---

Ves managed to slip by the guards and receptionist without having to go through a search.. something must really be up. Usually they could not wait to use their authority much like a child who was put in charge of his fellows. The Militia was just that, a bunch of children playing with fire... only instead of them getting burned, it was the house and everyone else in it. He slid into Miss. and Mr. Rivers office to spot to other Hunters, but they were not important, he just wanted to get the mission details, get back home get his house prepared for his absence, but since Rivers was not here, he occupied himself with examining the other two. The man was ridiculously dressed, what were those, pajamas?

In the green and brown forest, all he would do is stick out. Even at night it was better to dress in dark greys then pure black, but if the man felt more manly chasing people in pajamas, well, have fun with that. The other must have been Remmington that man had spoke about. What was this some side-show freaks he was traveling with this time? Some over-sensitive woman, and a pajama freak? He reached up and rubbed his forehead, this was going to be a long one, he could feel it in his bones.

Frankie opened his eyes and stared at the cracked white cieling. There was a pretentous banging on his door that demanded his attention. Instead he just smiled and set his arms underneath his pillow and watched the bits of sheetrock fall before him. This place was as old as any other building, but his dad had done a fair enough job restoring everything. Well, everything except for the mold underneath the carpets, the creak in the bed, the assorted holes in the floor and the cracked cieling. He wasn't about to fix it up. He'd rather just leave the damned place behind. It had been home to his last known misery. Sleeping in the bed that his father had hung himself from wasn't the most calming feeling, but it was more relaxing than the streets. "Frankie, open the fuck up!" A voice called from outside. He smirked and rose from his spot atop the sheets. In a few paces he'd made his way to the door. Unlatching small chain lock, the door swung open unrestrained by the latch of the door knob which hadn't worked for atleast a decade. Theres another thing you missed out on dad.

"Good morning to you too pal," He said sarcasticly through a cheeky grin. "What's up?" The small man was cradling his wrist in his oposite hand and was looking around the apartment with approval.
"Nice place you got here." The man said nonchalantly.
"Sure, it was my dads." Frankie felt his expression drop momenterily. He did his best to not think about his father. "What can I do for you today?"
"Mr and Miss Rivers would like to see you over in HQ." Frankie nodded once then smiled and waved him to continue. The small man sighed, rolled his eyes, and shook his head "I can't say, just pack your things. You got a trip ahead of you."
"Right. What happened to your wrist buddy? You're nursing it like a newborn child." The man was just about to open his lips when Frankie interjected a big grin playing across his face. "Big 'ol Remmy messed you up a 'lil bit huh? Gave you a baby boo-boo?" The short man's face went devoid of emotion as he stared at Frankie unbelievingly. "Oh I know, I'll get you some ice to put on it from the freezer here," Frankie walked over to the freezer and was about to open the door when he turned back to the short man. "Oh wait, that's right, we don't have ice!" Frankie exclaimed before erupting into a fit of laughter.
"Right," The short man responded, refusing to take part in Frankie's antics, "I expect you can find your own way over there."

Well, lets get this day started right. Sure as shit gunna be a long one. Frankie thought to himself as he took two anti-depressant pills and popped them into his mouth. In a flurry of minutes Frankie packed a backpack with three different suits, a combination of drugs, hygiene kit, two clips of ammunition for his M1911 Colt .45. He dressed in a fourth suit and set his gun in an inner suit pocket. He passed out his house door, not even bothering to lock it behind him. Everything of importance was on him. And besides, he didn't have the key.

Frankie passed the rooms on his left and right and made way for the buildings exit. Some of the rooms had been completely caved in, others were occupied. The appartment building was one of the smallest ones in the city of New Haven. It had once been a measly one story motel frequented only by the shady or the needy. It turned out to be one of the easist buildings to maintain after The Blackout. It's single story allowed the building to weather less quickly as the taller buildings, and many of the other buildings surrounding it offered some protection to the elements. Frankie opened the heavy wooden door which spereated the main corridor from the outside just when he heard his name being called.

"Francis dear! I heard you're leaving I made something for you! Big boy like you shouldn't run around with nothing to eat!" It was Old Lady Gertrude. She had been rumored to live here since The Blackout. Frankie wasn't sure if he believed all the hubub, but her information seemed to check out with a lot of the things the militia had educated him with when he was younger. If it were the case Gertrude was over eighty years old, and such longetivity was unheard of since The Blackout.
"Oh Mrs. Gerty, you shouldn't have!" Frankie beamed at the old woman and graciously accepted her gift of rat tails and hardtack. "Maybe I'll even find some berrys to make a jam for the hardtack while I'm out in the wild."
"See to it you do Francis!" Frankie cringed at the sound of his first name. "The hardtack tastes like a rats ass and if you don't soak it in water for a little first, you'll probably lose your foreteeth!" Old Lady Gertrude giggled a little and then ushered Frankie out the front door and shut it behind him.

Frankie travled down the vegitation strewn streets and passed slowly from lower New Haven where the degenerates had once lived towards the commercial and governemental center of the city where the Milita HQ was stationed. The building had seen better days. But it stood, and there wasn't much more to ask for in a time like this. The areas unscathed by vegitation reflected the dark looming sky above, making the weather feel evermore imposing. Frankie walked through the front doors past the two guards with a hello. He had practically grown up in this building and most of the Milita knew him immediately on sight. Frankie ascended one of the intact metalic staircases he made his way towards the appropriate floor, to the appropriate room and allowed himself into the meeting with his fellow hunters and Mr. Rivers.

"Howdy Mr. Rivers!" He said nodding to the man in charge before turning to Remington, his expression positively glowing. "How you been Remmy baby?" Frankie winked at Remington before turning to Ves and The Hound "Good to know you ain't dead yet Hound! And Mr. Ves! Looking... Tactical, as always!" He grinned to himself "Who's ready to go hunting?" He asked his voice rising in pitch. "We're going to have one hell of a good time!"

Chloe watched as the guard before her was shot dead, an arrow to the throat. With a soft groan, she rolled her eyes and bent to grab her forged Traveling license just as a girl dropped out of a tree above her. "Son of a bitch..." She whispered before turning to her. "Common." The girl said, pushing her through the gate. Chloe bit her tonuge and slipped her papers away before coming to a stop under the tree Cleo was in.

She was about to say something when one of the other runaways came over. A little girl in tow. He was the first one they'd picked up. A smuggler. “You both know that there was no reason to kill him right? He might have let her go for all you know, now it’s pretty obvious which way were going. What I’m trying to tell you is that because of that little hair brain stunt you pulled you just endangered all our lives even more, including this little girl right here. Now then, what are we gonna do cause you just guaranteed they’ll be sending a squad or so after us……also little miss bow and arrow up there, if you can’t carry your gear then don’t bring it.” He said and Chloe simply reached up and ripped her arrows out of her sisters hand, slipping them back into her quiver.

"He's right." She hissed, gesturing to the girl who'd pushed her, and the dead guard in the bushes. "Do you always have to be so reckless Cleo? He might have let me through. Maybe, wait next time. The whole point of a plan is to follow it." She rolled her eyes. "How are we supposed to expect all these people to listen to us if we don't even listen to each other?" The two bickered a lot, but they were sisters. It was one of the things that made them so close. They challenged each other constantly. With a sigh, Chloe picked up the archers bags and shoved them into her hands. "Whatever. Now that you idiots have slowed us down when I could have just caught up, we've got to run like hell. Carry your own shit honey. Let's go."

Gently, she pushed past the smuggler, and made her way back to the trees that the others were all hiding in, waiting for her. "Get down." She said simply. "We're moving." And with that, she took off into the woods, nimble feet leaping over obstacles that only a hunter could see in the dark. They would run until they came to a place Chloe knew well and make camp. She shifted the weight of the bag on her shoulder and glanced behind her as she moved. She couldn't see the others, but she knew they were there, streaking their way through the night behind her.

---

Scarlet let a wicked grin creep onto her face as the girl just stared at her in hard defiance. She glanced behind her at Taylor. "Nervous because Mommy's in the room?." She smirked and grabbed the girls chin, pulling her close and locking eyes with her. "She misses you and your sisters, you know that?" When she got no response, she leaned back and smiled. "I guess you do. Though you don't care."

"Well, thank you for your hospitality, miss Rivers. You are very sweet to welcome us in this amazing prison of yours.I appreciate this, but I am not intending staying in here too much.And I am sure she thinks the same.." She could practically taste the sarcasm in the boys voice and she turned her eyes on him, the girl now forgotten.

"Not a problem honey." She said with a smirk, her eyes following him as she moved to her guards.

"So, these are your puppets? Oh, sorry, a few of your puppets? What did you give them to be on your side? Money? Drugs? Something else? I am really curious, because they are very loyal.. Or is just a facade?"

Scarlet leaned back and inspected her nails. "Actually, it's much simpler than all that. I gave them knowledge and a high salary, and they give me loyal service." She lifted her eyes to the boy with a smile, knowing that wasn't the answer he was expecting. "What? You've never heard the saying: Knowledge is power?"

She watched him sit down again. "What are you going to do with us?" He said after a moment of silence. "Put us in the prison? Come on, you know that if you do this, you will not stop what is coming. AND you know what is coming..You will be defeat soon, along with your puppets.. And you can't stop it..."

Angered, she leaned forward and gave him a slap so hard, she knew it would bruise. She was famous for these slaps, and she knew the guards behind her were all putting their hands to their cheeks, as they'd all been there before. She grinned, satisfied, and leaned back. "No. Actually, I'm not putting you back in the prison. Or the Pitts. I'm taking you with me." She looked at the girl. "You two are going to help us hunt down your siblings. I don't care if I have to break every bone in your bodies to get you to talk." She gestured to the guards. "Cuff the boy again." She tossed a pair of cuffs to Taylor. "Get the girl."

Scarlet stepped back and watched as Taylor handcuffed her own daughter and the guards handcuffed the boy, hands behind their backs. "Alright." She said. "To my office." And with that, she turned, Taylor, her daughter, the boy, and the guards behind her.

Once upstairs, she pushed the double doors to her office open to find that her brother had already gathered their hunters together, along with the tracker. She grinned. "Alright, well." She began, moving to stand next to her brother. "We've got a group of Runaways on our hands, so we're going on a little trip. I'll only be another minute." She said as she disappeared behind a door in the back of the room, heading into her own room.

Quickly, Scarlet peeled off her high heels and velvet dress, slipping into a black tanktop, leather jacket, dark grey pants, and combat boots. She then grabbed the bag next to her bed that always kept at the ready before heading back out into her office. "I hope everyone's ready." She said looking at them. Remy and Frankie seemed to be the only ones who'd grabbed supplies. "We wont be waiting."

---

John waited in the shadows with the runaways. They were to be waiting for some sort of signal. What exactly it was, he didn't know, only the leaders did, but he didn't mind. He was more than willing to lie planning in their capable hands. He'd never been the smartest guy in the world and was always happy to hand over decision making to someone more qualified.

Next to him, was his girlfriend, Evangeline. He was running away with her. The city, with all the rapes and murders, was no place for her anymore, and he just wanted her to be safe. Silently, he slipped his hand into hers and placed a small kiss on her cheek, just as a ball of flame streaked through the night towards them. He ducked, avoiding the flame as it struck the tree behind him. Then a second. That must be the signal, for the other leader Cleo, shouted for them to move.

So he did, tugging Evangeline along with him. Once in the safe cover of the forest, he turned back to Cleo, taking in her instructions. "Come one Angel." He whispered, helping Evangeline climb a nearby tree, and crawling across a low-hanging branch to sit next to her, waiting for Cleo and Chloe's return.

There was a pause, then sounds of bickering, then an order from Chloe to get down and get moving. With a sigh, he jumped down, then caught Angel gently, taking her hand and leading her off after Chloe.

Two additional bodies had filled the space within the office shortly after he made his appearance within. One, Vesper Norton, was not, in his mind, a favorable character. Of course, he had excellent skills in tracking, but he never enjoyed his presence. This had bothered him time and time again, during his stay here. Not understanding it made it close to unbearable to the point of walking out of the room, sometimes the building, just to think alone. As his gaze brushed past the features of the man, he couldn't help, but give a small start, 'He is passing judgement over me.' With eyes narrowing to slits, the hood began to drift over them, hiding them from the world. A thought passed through his mind, but was quickly abolished. One who has a ruined tongue, and very poor vocal chords, could not speak in a legible fashion. So he stayed silent, while slowly reaching for his weapon and whetstone.

The soft whisk-whisk filled his mind, banishing all thought, as the weapon and whetstone struck and slid across their surfaces in a slow rhythm. His mind was wholly consumed with the whetstone, before finally stopping to examine the weapon closely. The eyes took on a dreamy look, before resuming with the soft whisk-whisk of the two for a few more heartbeats. Once satisfied, he placed the two in their respective pouches, then turned to see as Frankie appeared in the doorway. He couldn't help, but remove his half mask and mouthed the word "Woof" at the sound of his own nickname, before securing it in place once more. 'I will die eventually,' he thought to himself, 'but not this day, nor the next.'

Before another thought could be formed, Miss Rivers barged in. He wanted to address his last assignment quickly, but she was gone as soon as she entered. Puzzled, he looked about himself, wondering where she had gone. As quickly as she had vanished, she appeared in an odd get-up of outdoor gear, asking if everyone was ready. Confusion had entered his mind, and evidently showed within his own dark eyes. He had looked about himself, wondering if anyone else was as confused as he was. Apparently, Vesper was also confused, and began to voice his own opinion about it. "Tracking in the dark is not possible." The Hound's own head bobbed in acknowledgement to this statement. It was true to anyone with half a brain, and unless you had a fleet of flying machines at your beck and called, you were going to have to wait till first light to start the hunt.

"We would only get in each others way, get lost, or worse yet, destroy their tracks ourselves. If they ran away today, they won't have gone far, and I have tracked down people who have been gone for more then a week. Just a suggestion of course, but instead we should use tonight to attempt to gain any and all information we can about who is running away." Again, he bobbed his head in acknowledgement. There were wisdom in his words, and even though he didn't feel comfortable in his presence, he could not refute the man's words. Miss Rivers had appeared to be hyped up and ready to get on with the hunt, but if she tried to go out into the night, she would go without a Tracker and a Hunter.

Frankie beamed around at his counterparts. These people were his family, and it had been a while since his last hunt. He attempted to gauge his standing with the men and woman. Mr. Vesper seemed unsure of him, which was fine. Frankie had never met Mr. Vesper officially since he had never officially been a part of the Militia family. Frankie had heard of him and his skills in tracking people who managed to flee to the outside New Haven, but it was unlikely that Mr. Vesper had heard of him. This would be Frankie's first assignment with the man and he was thrilled to have the opportunity to see him in action. Silently he wondered if his father had ever done any work with Mr. Vesper, maybe when he was starting out. Frankie turned his gaze towards Remingto. Hen wasn't sure how she felt about him, she seemed a little bit more reserved. Even still, the two had been on maybe a trip or two before. She had started Hunting very young, and she was good at what she did. Even still the girl was only sixteen years old and Frankie expected that she would one day be the best Hunter in the militia if she kept at it. The other man, the hooded man Frankie knew as The Hound. He know that The Hound was a part of the militia family, and he was one of the best male hunters in the group. Frankie respected that about him, but The Hound seemed drowned in his own thoughts. He wasn't even sure that The Hound had noticed him when he walked into the room.

Miss Rivers entered the room looking dashing as always. It was one of the few things that Frankie adored about Scarlet. Her attire was breath taking. She took good care of herself and he found himself desperately attracted to her, dispite the tight ship she ran and the sinister way she had about doing things. He watched her move by all the hunters and take her place beside her brother. "Alright, well." She began, "We've got a group of Runaways on our hands, so we're going on a little trip. I'll only be another minute." She turned towards her office and Frankie felt his eyes drop immediately to her butt, set higher than usual and rounded more vivatiously by the heels she was wearing. Catching himself, Frankie quickly turned away and looked towards the other Hunters nervously to see if they had saw. His smile returned to his face as he attempted to play it off silently, and innocently. Once she returned she had changed her clothing to something more suitable for Hunting.

Miss Rivers asked if everyone was ready and it wasn't long before Mr. Vesper spoke up. He said that it wasn't a smart idea to leave tonight and that it would be better to wait until morning. Frankie had no doubt that Mr. Vesper knew what he was talking about, but if his intel was right, the break out happened the previous evening and waiting until morning would leave them two days behind. He was about to voice his opionion but didn't want to speak out of turn. This was Miss River's chouce anyhow. He'd let it stay that way.

As Ky was giving dagger eyes to Scarlet she heard the women begin talking "Nervous because Mommy's in the room?." she felt her chin grabbed by Scarlet’s hand pulling her closer. She looked it the militia’s eyes “shes not my mother” she said through her gritted teeth."She misses you and your sisters, you know that?"[b] She felt Scarlet let go of her and she rubbed her chin just a little [b]“I guess you do. Though you don't care." she was about to respond to that when she looked to the boy next to her, he gave her a smile then started talking to Scarlet.

She heard the guy use sarcasm against Scarlet and go at it. Ky sat there quietly but when she heard the boy say "What are you going to do with us? Put us in the prison? Come on, you know that if you do this, you will not stop what is coming. AND you know what is coming..You will be defeat soon, along with your puppets.. And you can't stop it..." Ky couldn’t help but smile, she liked this guy already just because of what he said to Scarlet, this made her smirk towards Scarlet but then watched as she gave the guy a good smack across the face. She heard it and winced, hearing what Scarlet said next made her not so happy.

“No. Actually, I'm not putting you back in the prison. Or the Pitts. I'm taking you with me." She didn’t like the sound of this and knew it probably wasn’t going to end well "You two are going to help us hunt down your siblings. I don't care if I have to break every bone in your bodies to get you to talk." “Bullshit that will be the last thing I will be doing you crazy bitch” she yelled as she jumped from her seat and put her hands on the table “I will die before you get anything out of me” her eyes looking right back into Scarlet’s, Ky was serious and anyone looking in her eyes could tell.

Ky then felt her wrists being cuffed again and looked behind her to see it was her mother “One of these days Taylor you will die from my hands just like you did to my Grandfather” was the last thing she said before she was pushed out of the room. They followed Scarlet up to another room, where there was other Militia hunters and the brother of Scarlet. She took each of them in guessing these where the hunters that would be hunting the group. “Scarlet is crazy if she thinks she will get anything out of me.” she thought to herself as she stood there glaring.

---

Remy was standing there her hands behind her back, she turned her head as each of the other hunters come along. First was the hound, she has hunted with him a few times and they worked good with each other, at least she thought so. They worked in silence never saying one word but they always got the job done. She gave a slight nod to the hound then looked at the door as someone else came in. It was another man, she never hunted with him nor has she had any running in with him. She nodded quietly to the older man then another one came walking in. A bit more cheery then the other ones "How you been Remmy baby?" she heard Frankie say then saw the wink. She shook her head then looked to him “Doing well Frankie” she said in her quiet, soft, dark voice. Not many people hear her speak, she liked to keep to herself most of the time but Frankie amused her an not many people could do that.

As she went back to be silent she heard Scarlet come in with a group behind her and she nodded to the women. Scarlet pretty much is her only ‘friend’ she still owed Scarlet from the year the other girl took her to be in the Militia when she was only seven years old. Scarlet was only five years older then her but Remy always looked up to the women and would always be there for Scarlet no matter what the situation was. "Alright, well. We've got a group of Runaways on our hands, so we're going on a little trip. I'll only be another minute." she watched as Scarlet walked off to the other room. She wanted to ask them why they gave that man her full name, Scarlet and Mr.Rivers where the only one that was suppose to know her full name, she would ask them later when there wasn’t so many people around. She saw as Scarlet came back out dressed better for the hunt they where going on. “I hope everyone’s ready, we won’t be waiting.”

Remy nodded she was ready, always ready to hunt, she was about to say something when one of the men spoke up "Tracking in the dark is not possible. It would be better to start fresh in the morning." Remy couldn’t help but agree, hunting would be hard in the dark but whatever Scarlet decided she would go forth with. She didn’t say anything because she felt her opinion wasn’t needed, so she stood their quietly, her hands behind her back as she waited for the next order.

---

Addy was standing there quietly watching the others from the side, she saw the two arrows being shot and went into the tree near them. Addy still wasn’t sure if they where all ready for this big to do but she just went with the flow. She heard one of the twins, Cleo, say “Move out!” She stayed low and ran right through the gate quietly. As they got through the gates she heard Cleo "All of you, get up in those trees, Don't come down no matter what you see, hear or think you hear. If I'm not back in ten minuets, all of you stay together, and find a safe place. Carter, you're with me." She wasn’t one to take orders from someone else but she remember when their older sister, Kyerie, came to her and told them about their plan and how she should go with them. She was unsure about it at first but she had nothing else here for her in New Haven so she agreed to go, but since Kyerie wasn’t here any longer it was hard to go forward with the plan. She really didn’t know the twins and it made her a bit anxious going with a bunch of people she hardly knew.

As she was about to climb a tree she heard the man next to her start talking, he looked much older then her which actually made her feel a bit better they had someone older in the group. “Whatever you do, don’t go hitting anyone with that kiddo. Last thing we need is more killing tonight…..Why don’t’ you come with me real quick.” Addy gave a small smile and chuckled, she didn’t plan on using the bat on anyone. She has only killed once and that was because the guard almost forced her to go to the Militia where she be put in the pit which she would never go, she would rather die then be in the Militia’s hands.

Addy nodded to the man and put her bat in the pack she had on her back. She kept her essentials in there, nothing to heavy to slow her down. She followed the man silently as they went over to Cleo and one girl she believed her name was Carter. She stood silently as she heard the name next to her start grilling out the two girls, which in her mind she thought they deserved it. One thing she didn’t like of what he said was he called her little girl her eyes went up to him and in the quietest but sorta dark voice she whisper “I am not little” was all she said as she went back to being quiet. She may be fifteen but she had been on her own for awhile now and she hated when she was put down because of her age. “age is just a number” she thought to herself.

Then Chloe came up and started bickering with her sister. “Will you two just shut up and stop bickering, it is the last thing we need. The two leaders bickering as the militia could be coming any minute now” this was all thought in her mind, she would never speak the words but the thoughts in her mind did. She kept quiet but she was grinding her teeth. As Chloe moved past the guy, practically shoving her she huffed. She couldn’t wait till they got out and to utopia then she can go on her own not having to deal with anyone. She followed right behind Chloe quietly, she was quiet as a mouse, her long legs helped her move easier through the night. She wasn’t sure where they were going but hopefully it was a little farther away from New Haven so it wouldn’t be easy for the Militia to find them.