|| She lives with wicked in her blood, yet he loves her so.

She sleeps with demons in her bed, yet he loves her so.

She envy's the night, and runs from sunlight, yet he loves her so.

Oh he loves her so. ||

- Anonymous

JACK

My lungs were heavy with soot. I could taste it in the air, and feel it claw down my throat. I groaned as I tried to sit up, everything in my body ached. Especially my back, my God damn crooked back.

Bits of stone rolled from on top of me and down the stairwell. One light still flickered, I could barely see in front of myself, but I knew I was surrounded by the dead.

Crawling down the stairs, back towards the cell, I slammed back the cell door. Just to make sure she wasn't still there.

Flashes of Asher slumped in the elemental boy's arms hit me one after another. Her kicking and screaming, and then lost in unconsciousness, being dragged away from me.

I tried to get to her. Even when she was out of sight and the room was choked with seekers - I was still fighting. When my head was throbbing and blood running into my eyes - I was still fighting. I'd never needed to save someone like I needed to save her.

I lost her once, and I swore it wouldn't happen again, but the seekers were stronger than steel, stronger than man. I couldn't break their hold. I watched her be pulled away right from under me.

The thought dried my self-pity, and light a hungry anger. I was back on my feet, and stalking up the stairs, out of that cavity of death and towards the fight.

Jo-Jo controlled a sobering scene: a make-shift infirmary now replacing our mess. Injured members of the collective lay amongst the benches and tables. Those able-bodied tending to the sick, cooling burns and bandaging wounds.

It was not the first time we've come under such an attack, and not the first time I've seen so many injured. I didn't feel sadness, just numb.

Jo spotted me from across the room, he slammed me with a dirty stare before he returned to directing the movement of some sick.

I'd seen that look before.

"There are people still left in the cells," I said as I approached, ignoring the toxic sneer he was wearing.

"Dead," he informed, marching away from me. His linen shirt tucked in and crease free, and hair smoothed back.

"Clearly not all of them," I retorted. I'd been left down there, and I was pretty sure I was still part of the living.

He turned back to me with a shit-scary look, leaving behind his clipboard and directing me to the kitchen.

The double doors swung closed behind us as Jo-Jo unleashed, "I left you down there to rot, because you might as well be dead to me Jackson Marks."

"Is that right?" I dared, squaring him on from across the bare kitchen.

"Damn straight," he roared, wiping the benches clear, destroying the silence with a loud clattering of metal pots and utensils as they hit the floor. "If you hadn't left her locked up with that disgusting abomination then she'd still be here!"

There were few things madder than a wet hen, and Jo-Jo pissed off was one of them.

"I swore on my grave, that I'd never let this happen again, not after last time. I would never carry that burden again, we had her back for Christ's sake and they took her from us," he swore, grabbing me by the collar, sweat rolling down his forehead.

He needed someone to blame, and that someone was going to be me.

Jo-Jo may not have let many people know it, but he was soft as butter, and he hated himself for letting the kids get driven away all those years ago. He knew how it burned me, and owned it as his own fault.

I'd been too lost in my own grief to set him straight.

"Where's Elek?" I swallowed against his grip.

"Gone," Jo mumbled, before he pushed me away.

"What do you mean, gone?" I followed behind him.

"I mean he's fucking gone," Jo roared, running his hands back through his hair, "I've had the whole town searched and comms sent out to the next two collectives."

I grasped the bridge of my nose, "If he's gone after his sister then he needs to be stopped."

"I know that, I've got twenty five men dedicated to getting his ass home, but if you haven't realised, resources are stretched a little thin."

"Reaves, I need Reaves, where is he?" I paced, clicking my fingers.

"I don't fucking know, probably with Elek," Jo sobered, his fingers shaking as he lit a cigarette between his lips.

"How long was I out?"

"6 hours since the attack," Jo replied after a thick blow of smoke, crossing his legs and leaning back against the steel benches.

6 hours.

6 hours was enough time for any high powered vehicle to be the other side of the south border. And certainly enough time for Elek and Reaves to have made enough ground that my people would never catch them on foot.

"Come in tech this is Jack," I said, into my radio in the pocket of my shirt.

"Jack, this is the tech room what can I do for you?"

"I need all video feeds from the borders wired to my office now, including footage from the last seven hours," I listed, "And get me feeds from collectives three, four and five, and open lines to the hex leaders."

"What are you doing?" Jo queried as he followed me out of the kitchen.

"I'm finding my family," I answered, pinching the cigarette from his grip and taking a well-deserved puff.

THAT'S RIGHT PEOPLE I DID IT! I FINALLY, EVENTUALLY, UPDATTTTTEDDDD! Sorry for the horrendously long time it took....I guess you could say I lost my mojo.

But I found it again, when I finally bite the metaphorical bullet and got writing again. Part 2 is here and with it comes a few new perspectives.

If you're still reading (I don't blame you if you're not) .... thankyou xx