chapter three;
bound by duty.
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"A tear in the membrane
allows the voices in. They want to
push you off the path. With their
low frequency wiring . . . You can
do no wrong in my eyes."
— THORM YORKE

╚═*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═╝

✧  SUMMER ✧

    DEATH WAS A CONCEPT LITTERED WITH PECULIARITIES. One moment a person was alive breathing in the stale air of the QZ, and the next gone from the world. A light snuffled out forever. Early expiration being the most common cause of death in an apocalyptic world. A world more familiar with the labors of oppression and cruelty than the liberation of love and harmony. Which long since vanished. Bled from the very fibers of every person.

Grief was to be expected. In fact, Clement would argue grief was very much the essence of her new life. The one she's grown comfortable living in over the past twenty years. The one that no matter the circumstance, she will justify as a means to an end. Even if the ends resulted in the demise of those around her. Of those she once loved as ferociously as breathing.

Now she idled like a broken car in front of the remains of the teenager. Unrecognizable if it was not for her eyes. Dark, accusing, and the only thing left of her ruined corpse. Boring into Clement's own beady gaze with an icy hatred that not even a thousand days of sun could begin to defrost.

The body of the eighteen-year-old utterly destroyed. Not enough left of her to even bury after the riot. She begged for Clem's help, and Clement let her die. She begged for her help on multiple occasions and Clement couldn't be bothered to lift a finger.

Deja Wyatt was not a friend. There was no doubt in her mind of that unfortunate truth. There wasn't much about the girl she liked, or was able to tolerate. She was far too soft for a FEDRA soldier. Far too good for the wasteland of FEDRA's domain. Naiveties painting her body in tones of hope and harmony. Dreams she'd never see come to fruition. Any hope of them shattered along with her lifeless body.

She knew better. She told Eric as much. Not to place the girl in their ranks. Not to burden Clement with another child to look after.

        But she didn't deserve the cruel fate the universe deemed her worthy of . . .

"I thought we could have a small ceremony for her," Joseph said. His voice soft. His eyes refusing to stare long at the torn apart corpse. Although she hadn't seen him walk up behind her, she felt his presence beside her.

Clement swallowed the bile rising in her throat, forcing her shaking knees to bent to the ground and examine Deja's remains. "I'm not even sure how it happened," she said, voice treading carefully over the still open wound of her comrade. "None of you have given me an honest answer since it happened . . ."

        "I — I don't know. It all happened so fast, and someone got left behind. Deja got left behind." Joesph, although his face as pink as ever, as proud as ever; looked shaken to his core in his green gaze. Watching the sky with an ever heavy mind, and even heavier heart. "Here," he said, handing her a folded envelope. "This was in your box. Looked pretty important, so I thought I'd give it to you right away."

       Clement unfolded the crumpled up paper. Staring at the contents of the handwritten letter. She knew the writing. The penmanship. Only one person she knew dotted her i like that.

   "Dear Clem,

I hope this letter finds you well, and I hope you are doing well yourself. I really mean that. But I also want you to know I can't live this way anymore. I can't stay in this school, training for an organization I hate. I can't stay in a city designed to chain us down. And I know my father wouldn't want me to. He'd want me to fight for a better tomorrow. For something real. So that's what I'm going to do. I joined the fireflies (before you loose your shit) know it was my choice. My choice to leave with them as well. We won't be a problem for FEDRA anymore. So don't come looking for us . . . and try not to hate me too much.

I'd tell you not to miss me, but I'm not sure that missing anyone is something you are capable of anymore. So I say this, with every fiber of my being. I hope you find happiness one day. A reason to live for more than just survival because Clem. It isn't truly living.

Sincerely with love in my heart,

    Bea Steele."

     Why didn't I look after her? Bea Steele wasn't someone Clement let herself think about much. The teenage girl having been locked away into the rankings of FEDRA'S Military Academy. Usually, she'd send a check once a month. Enough to keep her alive. Convince Clement she was doing the right thing by Audrey to leave her there. Of course, it was a lie. But how many lies had she told herself over the years in order to survive?

      She could have been alive, a cruel voice reminder Clement, the speaker's eyes as accusing and void of life as the last day she saw them. Honey eyes — it was always honey eyes — calculating their next move. She wanted to leave the force. She knew, you knew deep down.

       A constant reminder of the empty abyss consuming Clement's heart, more and more every passing day. Her breath came in short jagged huffs. Each measly inhale a shard of sea glass punctuating her lungs. Thickening the air with the dreaded knowledge of Clement's sea of doubts. Waves of cruel uncertainty splashing across her chest. Pulling her into the deep while she thrashed toward the surface.

      You killed her . . . just like you killed —

     "No," Clement whispered, face a crude expression of an innocent party. "I didn't know... I wasn't there. My hands are clean." Somewhere below, in the ocean of ghosts she had been drowning in for over a decade, a face emerged. One clouded by grief and the passage of time — one she couldn't quite make out the details to anymore.

     Your hands have never been clean. You know this—

    "Stop it!" She yelled, head shaking violently.

    "Hey, are you alright?" A heavy hand laid upon her shoulder, in what was no doubt meant to be a comforting motion but failed on all accounts. Clement pushing his palm off of her in an attempt to stop the coldness from spreading across her whole body.

    She pulled her body backwards, as if his touch burned and froze her all at the same time — what was that that used to say about extremely cold temperatures being able to burn a person in the same way as heat — actually, never mind that now.

  "Why didn't you protect him?"

    "I said no!" She screamed, throwing the body to the ground as if he weighed nothing. The bones cracked against the concrete. Blood pooling out of the side of the occupant's mouth.

    "Clement!" Hands grabbed onto her, pulling her weight backwards but Clement held on. Gripping the shoulders of the occupant in front of her. Another face being the one who slammed against the ground.

     Over.

     And over.

    And over again.

    Until the face which haunted her laid drenched in the crimson blood. Brain matter splattered across the floor . . . Across his remains. He was gone, gone again. She could breathe again.

"Stop! He was just passing by . . ." The voice told her.

    Clement stared down at the body. Eyes focusing in on the muddy brown hair and green eyes. A stark difference to that of Malcom's face. Wrinkled skin of  age staring back up at her.

"Please Clement," Joseph said, able to pry her away from the scene after everything. The man had been walking past when Clement attacked him. After screaming at ghosts like a lunatic. Maybe she was going insane? Slowly . . . Karma for all she'd done over the years. Instead of the sweet release of death, she will.

Dead. Blood pooling out of the back of his head and mouth from the head wound Clement inflicted on him. She stared down at her hands, bruised and bloody. A constant reminder of the animal she was. Of the things she did even if she hadn't wanted to do them. Not really . . .

She stood on her shaky knees. Despite her initial reaction, Clement forced an expression of neutrality onto her face, blinking up softly at the occupant of the voice. Only, his face was different, impossible even. A cruel reminder of what she once loved and lost. All of it happening far too soon, and without and warning signs.

Another child dead because of Clement. Another person's light snuffled from this world. God, she actually was going to hell — if she wasn't already in it.

Joseph stared at her in horror. Hand over his mouth as he realized what she'd done. The person's life she just took from the world. "You — you killed him."

Clement wiped her hands. Face bleached with blood. Heart frozen over once more. She grabbed the shovel and pushed it harshly into Joseph's arms. "Dig one grave," she forced the words out although they burned like acid. "Save on time."

And then she left. Walking away slowly as if nothing in the world bothered her. Even if she just wanted to lay down and die. Dig her own grave and be done with the whole ordeal. She wasn't sure if Joseph listened to her command. Frankly, she didn't give to shits if he did or didn't. There were more important things to worry about. Otherwise she'd let the grief consume her. Turn her into a mad woman.

. . .

CLEMENT BOUND BY DUTY DID THE ONE THING SHE KNEW COULD HELP THEM WIN THIS WAR. She braved the labyrinths of the cell block. Where criminals, no matter how small the crime, went to die. Clement Steele being the one to sign their execution into place; the one with the notebook deciding who lived and who died. After the first few executions Clement signed into law, she began scanning the rows of the scum they put behind bars. Looking the criminals dead in the eye, and deciding based on gut whether they'd benefit from walking free. Or whether the world would be better off with them dead . . . Often the latter was the one which proved to be true.

Now she stormed the underground fortress FEDRA built under the court building. It wet and cold. The perfect breeding ground for all sorts of diseases. Many of the prisoner's succumbing to sickness before their court date. Or Clement and any of the other executioners could determine their fate.

    An ugly business. One most soldiers avoided like the plague. Not Clement though, the nastier parts of the business were still, well . . . part of the business. If she was going to be a soldier she wouldn't justify the systems wrongdoings. She'd seen too much of that growing up, a system as cruel as it was broken back in South Africa. In the place of her birth. No, Clement would wear the title of soldier like a fucked up badge of honor. At least she was still alive. As long as she lived, she'd be able to justify any cruelty.

Alive . . . She reminded herself daily. Anything was better than the cold empty feeling of death.

  "Clement Steele," a chilling voice from the last cell called out to her. His face remained hidden by the shadows of his cell. His arms burned with lash marking from one of the soldiers who'd brought him in. His smile gapped and missing a few pairs of teeth. Yet, she'd remember his face till the day she died. Long after even, if there was some sort of afterlife. "I hoped and prayed you'd visit me, and it seems God finally answered my prayers; he's blessed me with an angel... an angel drenched in the holy fires of his wrath."

   She chuckled in amusement. Leaning against the wall next to his cell. "Last time you were here you called me the devil."

  "The devil was an angel once. Wasn't he?"

   Clement twirled her fingers around the chain on her neck. Leaning forward as she regarded the prisoner with unblinking eyes.  "I wouldn't know much about that."

   He bowed his head in complacency. "Of course not." His eye twitched as he stepped into the light. Dark hair greasy, with a nasty bruise under his eye. Withered and pale with age, the dark circle fading into a pinkish glint. "As much as your beauty blinds me, I know you better than to think this is a social call."

"Marlene," Clement forced out, stopping the twitch bound to accompany the firefly's name. "You know where she's hiding, and I want her."

   "Now why would I do that? Marlene's one of my best customers —"

   "Robert . . ."

"Clement."

  "I can be very convincing when pushed hard enough." Only the truth had been spurred from her chapped lips. She'd always been a convincing liar, able to spin even the most absurd of tales to her benefit. Especially when it came to men.

   He whistled through his nose. Shaking his head. "Is that a proposal or a threat?" He asked her, sarcasm dripping from his voice. He pushed himself up against the bar of the jail, voice in a sing-song tone. "And if I took you up on that ... offer? Would you lean your hands through the bars, to the length of me? Would you, a law abiding soldier do whatever was necessary to get the information? Get to Marlene as you say?"

"You're an informant," Clement reminded him, forcing herself closer, eyes unblinking. Hands held behind her back as she stared him down. She had the power, she knew that. Even if goosebumps littered her arms. Even if he had the information, and exploited it, to get exactly what he wanted.

He nodded. "I'm an informant."

    "So inform me."

    "He's gone," Robert said, speaking in only riddles again. It was a game to him. How long he could go withholding the information FEDRA required. How long until they grew tired of his games and tortured the secrets out of him.

    Clement's own patience was wearing thin; a thin veil waiting to crack. To unleash her worst on to him. To torture the man until he was screaming. She'd done it before; before her team had Diaz to carry out the more brutal tasks of abuse inflicted by the soldiers. But she'd done it all the same . . . She knew intimately how to make a man scream for his mother, knowing he was about to die. All the bullshit he would spill just to save his own tail. How pathetic they all became, right before they realized they were about to die.

She also knew Robert was a harder man to crack than most. He'd take days, even weeks to reach that point of desperation. Time Clement didn't have. Not with more and more fireflies disappearing by the day. Not with the riot that just broke out in the streets. The QZ didn't have that time. Not if he was going to stand to see the winter.

    "Who's gone?"
         
   "Tommy Miller," he told her, nose wrinkling. "No one has been able to get him on the radio. Not even his brother, I heard. Though, I doubt they've talked in years."

"He could be dead," Clement said with a pinched brow. Tommy Miller, one of the most notorious fireflies in the district. A wanted man by everyone who was anyone, including Captain Eric Kumar, who dreamed of being the first to bring the man to justice.

Everyone had failed on that account. The firefly proving more slippery than most credited him. More calculating; dangerous even. Clement's team wondered why he'd been off the radar for so long. Close to a year and a half now if Clement wasn't mistaken. Longer than Marlene's lap dog would have been in the past.

Trouble in paradise it seemed . . . Good, one less firefly to concern herself with. Perhaps he did someone some good in the world and fell off a cliff. A fitting death for a wretched monster.

"Maybe, but I wouldn't place all my bets on that. He's always been slippery. A good shot too, if I remember." The wistfulness of his voice irritating Clement to her core.

"Not good enough," she tells him lowly. The man smirking at her with a toothy grin. "This is wasting my fucking time isn't it? You aren't going to tell me shit." She should have known better. Planned for his defiance.

"I'll help you," he tells her just as Clement was beginning to walk away into the darkness. "But only you. I don't trust FEDRA scum."

"Okay . . ." She said, waving her hand nonchalantly for him to continue. Too eager, and Robert would clam up. He always did. Always would. She had to be careful how she played this.

"There's an old place down in the fishing district. I heard Marlene, and most of the fireflies were hold up there. Once we get there, I'll give you more directions." He smirked again, pointing to the keys she was dangling in front of him. "Breaking the law with Clement Steele of all people. How exciting! But you can't wear that."

. . .

"SO THIS IS THE PLACE?" CLEMENT ASKED WHEN THEY CAME UPON AN OLD WAREHOUSE. The rain trickling down upon their heads, rendering Clement's vision almost entirely obscured. Still, she glanced at Robert, the man grinning at her like a Cheshire Cat.

"Don't sound so upset about it," he told her. The jacket she put over him falling off his shoulders now. No one would recognize him here, or even care to turn him into FEDRA if they did. The industrial neighborhood of Boston cared little for the government. Hatred burning deep . . . A perfect place for the Fireflies to set up base.

"Marlene doesn't seem the type to hold up in a place like this . . . Never mind, let's get this over with." She told him walking toward the building. Or rather the service entrance he claimed to be their way in.

The storm came rather quickly. A bad omen if you were to ask Clement. They stormed their way into the firefly building rather quickly. A apartment complex as ordinary as any other in the QZ. They had been hiding in plain sight all this time, right under FEDRA's nose's. A mockery to the force. Citizens of the QZ had been hiding them. Rather testing their luck with rebels than their own government.

Had FEDRA really failed that terribly? Had the citizens? Who was to blame when the people turned to the enemy for comfort? Did Clement even care enough to ponder that question? Was she objective enough?

They preyed on Bea. The fireflies had a long standing tradition of recruiting young. Often teenagers and young adults angry with their lot in life and passionate young to brainwash them into terrorists. Almost all Firefly recruits in the past three years had been young teens, and most of them were dead in the month.

Clem took a deep breath, exhaling through her nose. That wouldn't be Bea. She wouldn't allow her to become another nameless soldier in someone else's pointless crusade. Living, well it sucked most of the time, was better than dying in a ditch of an unknown Firefly; a cause which would never breed into anything more than a cause.

The world wasn't built for it any longer.
        
Marlene, the leader of the fireflies in the QZ for the past eleven years should be at the hideout. Shouldn't be expecting a soldier to barter on her doorstep.

FEDRA had been itching to be the ones to find her. To stop her, to torture her before stringing her up as an example of befalls to the enemies of the government. And Clement Steele, the last person who wanted to be in the firefly's unbearable presence was deemed the one most likely to find her. The only one in the whole force, who may stand a chance at even getting near the other woman.

And yet, she dreaded the day all the same. Eric had been wanting to get his hands on the firefly for sometime now, wanting to be the one to hand her over to the higher ups - who'd no doubt do unspeakable things to her before ending her.

She didn't deserve a quick death. Clement knew as much.

Her eyes shook with vengeance, face scarred with injustice bestowed upon her in her youth. "We come across Marlene, I get to kill her."

Clement bite her lip, drawing the blood there. The metallic taste a lavish comfort to her in a moment of relief... or hesitant. Both often leaving her with a lack of understanding of the why behind any of her outlandish emotions. Behind everything she'd been thinking up until that point.

Robert clicked his decaying teeth together. As wet as a drowned rat as he pushed open the apartment door. Motioning for Clement to move first. She didn't, pushing him inside before entering the premises. "Never change Clemmy," he told her in a high voice. "We come across her, she's all yours."

They barely got through the door before they came across the first dead body. A firefly, by the looks of the bloody pendant hanging around his neck, dropped haphazardly on the ground. Blood pooling out of the side of his head. Shot and killed, and looks like he didn't see them coming either.

     Clement sighed, using the tip of her boat to push the dead firefly out of the way of the stairs. Robert smirked at her but she chose to ignore it all the same. One more hour, and then she could be rid of the vermin. Once she got Bea back . . . One more hour. Once she killed Marlene. Done her in for good, and saved everyone the headache of her presence.

The second floor of the apartment building was littered with more firefly bodies. All dead. All shot execution style. A cold dread washed over Clement. Her bones chilled to their core. The dead bodies weren't the result of an inner ranking dispute. No, someone was already here. A lot of someone's by the look of it.

"What is this?" Clement asked Robert, spinning around to face the slimy creature. He had the right mind to look a bit sheepish. Although the wild yellowed grin he gave her was enough for Clement to picture pushing him down the stairs. Watching him tumble to the bottom and hoping he'd break his neck.

"Dead fireflies by the looks of it," he deadpanned. Eyes drifting over the corpses. He placed his hand over his chest, disgusting mouth opened in mock horror. "How could I have done this? I've been with you the whole time."

She moved closer. Him inching further back on the step to get away from her. His eyes widened, and a drip of sweat ran down his forehead. "Did you tell anyone other than me about this place?" She asked, keeping her voice steady. Trying to avoid going to the place of horror her mind kept creeping toward.

She's not dead. She can't be.

"Me? Lie to you? Clemmy I thought you knew me better than that —"

"Stop fucking calling me that," she barked at him. The heel of his foot almost slipping off the step he was standing on.

He held his hands up. Looking at her through the upper lids of his eyes. "Scouts honor."

"Stop fucking talking to me," she told him. Taking a minute to catch her breath. To keep her mind from wandering back to the worst case scenario. "And stop fucking staring at me. Walk, and you're going first now. I don't trust you — or your firefly pals."

Maybe in another universe, Clement would have felt guilty about the execution of so many lives. Of so many fireflies over the years, but like with the death of her comrade, all she managed to feel was angry.

Who was really to blame for Deja death? For all the other deaths she suffered through over the years. Was it God? The almighty being who had Clement clutching her rosary beads in the early days of the decay before wising up to his grand scheme? Was it the fireflies? Their insistence need to push FEDRA to their breaking point. Their naive notions of the world working in any other way? Or could it have been FEDRA? Clement's own people, too blinded by power and authority to see the humanity they were guarding turned rotten from the inside out. Under their very noses. Hated their guts.

Or maybe it was a combined effort... no one's and everyone's fault at the same time? It sure felt that way on most days, especially ones like today; ones where Clement's anxiety had no where to go, eating through her gut until the feeling was fueled by her rage. A car pumped full of diesel. Able to run but more likely than not to explode.

"I don't give a fuck. You tell them to follow fuckin' orders or they can stay here. Be picked off one by one." A voice carried from the next room over. A voice, Clement was certain belonged to the leader of the fireflies. Marlene.

Could she still do this? Could she kill her? End all of it right now. Find Bea first. Then kill Marlene.

"Marlene, they just want to know what we're doing with the girl . . . and I do too actually."

Clement inched toward the door, careful to only walk on her tiptoes, rather than stomp around like a mad woman. As she pushed the door open slightly, she readied herself for retaliation. Brown eyes widened when they meet her own. Marlene's face turning into an expression of surprise. She reached for her gun, a cry sounding from her lips. Clement pointed her rifle at Marlene's head. Right between her eyes. One squeeze of the trigger, and she'd be dead instantaneously. One squeeze of the trigger. One.

She breathed out. "Where's Bea?"

"Who?" Marlene asked, blinking at her. Her body appeared like steady waters, but just like steady waters a storm brewed underneath. Anyone with the slightest bit of foresight could see it; could sense the fear radiating off of her.

"Don't play fucking stupid with me!" She shouted lifting her gun higher. The woman next to Marlene, bleeding from the ear down, let out a screech at the movement, but Marlene remained deadly still. "Bea Steele. Blonde. Sixteen. New recruit. You know exactly who I'm talking about. Did you fucking kill her?"

"I didn't kill anyone here today. The butchers are your fucking people."

"What?" Clement asked, an annoyed tone to her words. She held the gun up to Marlene's head all the same. Waiting for her to try to slither her way out of death. Just as she did countless times before.

"Think Steele. I know you aren't as stupid as your meathead friends. Why would I shoot up my own people? Who else would have the fire power to do so?"

Clement lowered the gun slightly. Thinking back to the way the fireflies were lined up. The way they were shot execution style. FEDRA typically shot criminals that way. Typically shot fireflies that way. They had massacred the fireflies. They had been there, only shortly before Clement arrived.

Shit, why did she turn her radio off? Why did she listen to Robert of all people . . . Robert of all people. She turned to face the culprit to see him running off down the hall. The liar. The fucking liar — he told FEDRA the fireflies location. Probably only minutes before telling Clement. She just set him free, and now he was trying to run.

Muscle memory had her squeezing the trigger before her brain could make sense of what was happening. Robert's body hitting the wall at break neck speed. Shot between the eyes, just as she had been meaning to do only minutes prior to Marlene. Of course, the world was better off without Robert of all people occupying space. Clement blinking casually at the blood splattered across the muster walls. Brain matter painting it in shades of pink.

Robert was scum. Sure, he was an informant, but he was also a huge fucking pain in Clement's ass, and she was happy to finally be rid of him. If only she'd done it sooner. Killed him before he had the chance to fuck up Bea's life. Clement's own life by extension.

How could she get her self caught up in firefly business. Run away from the FEDRA academy Clement put her up in. How could she be so ungrateful? So foolish? How could Clement care so deeply . . . Even if she claimed to contrary.

You failed them . . . You failed her. You really do belong in hell — Well, good thing we're already in it.

"She's alive." Marlene breathed out. Clement's eyes widened in surprise. The woman next to Marlene's rising to match her.

"Marlene," the woman began.

"At least she was the last time I saw her." Marlene's dark eyes lifted. The wrinkles on her face more pronounced than the last time the firefly leader graced Clement's presence. "You could see her again, but first I need you to do something for me."

Clement rolled her eyes. Posture more relaxed to match Marlene's. She should be on guard. She should always be on guard with that woman. But she wasn't. Once again she wasn't, and it was infuriating. "There's always a bargain with you isn't there."

"Is there any other way to live? I wouldn't ask if you didn't just kill my only other option. " Marlene chuckled softly. The motion turning into a cough a moment later. Clement's eyes drifting to the woman's side for the first time. Noticing the way she was holding a rag over the bloodied side of her shirt. A gunshot wound festering there. "Follow me."

Clement despite her better judgement followed Marlene and the woman without an ear down the labyrinth of halls she led them through. "Give me one good reason not to put you out of your misery right here."

    "Bea isn't a good enough reason?" Marlene asked. Pausing right in front of a door. She stared at Clement a moment longer before sighing. "You soldiers are all the same aren't you—"

    "Just tell me what you want."

    "Marlene," the other woman hissed, clutching her ear.

    "I need you to deliver a package —"

    "A package? That's it?"

     "To the capital building."

     "Outside the walls?" Clement raised her eyebrows, leaning against an archway. Marlene didn't look so good. Gray and sickly. Would she drop dead at a moment's notice? Do the whole QZ a favor? "You've lost too much blood if you fucking think I'm going to do that."

     Marlene frowned. The tired lines of her face more pronounced than they were only a few moments before. She slumped against the wall in her defeat. Eyes slightly glossed over . . . She'd be dead by morning. Clement knew enough about gunshot wounds to know that.

    "We're wasting our time. I knew she wouldn't help. FEDRA scum!" The other firefly woman snapped, Clement darting her head over toward her for the first time. The woman's words, although meant to sting, did little to crack the core of Clement's skin of steel. She heard worse. She'd said worse, and she hardly cared what two fireflies marked for death said or thought about her.

      "One more word out of you, and I won't hesitate to reacquaint you with your dead friends," Clement told her lowly. Waving her gun as if it was the easiest thing in the world. It was. Killing was as natural as breathing to Clement Steele. As necessary as water. She had ended lives over less for years, and she wouldn't hesitate to add another tally to that list if so desired.

      The firefly had the good sense to shutter at the thought. Inching back slightly, and eying Clement's gun as if it would grow a mind of its own and shoot her. From the woman's reaction, Clement's reputation proceeded her. Good, maybe she'll think twice about back talk.

      "The capital building is currently housing the rest of my squad," Marlene told her after a moment. Still on a crusade to convince Clement to buy into her cause. She was a persistent speaker if nothing else. "Everyone who isn't dead here is there. We're leaving the city for good. You won't hear or see us again after tonight."

     "Great, good riddance to the lot of you then —"

     "Bea's there too." The words struck Clement to her core, and she hated the way Marlene knew it would. The way she knew she'd manage to convince her after all. "After tomorrow she will be gone for good, and there won't be a chance to stop her; what will you choose? Never see Bea again? Or deliver my package?"

      "You're really fucking pathetic aren't you?"

      "Pathetic and desperate. Why do you think I'm turning to you?" Marlene pointed out. The ghost of a grin on her face. Clement ignored the ghost of a grin appearing on her own face at the joke.

       "I don't know the city —"

      "You've been in it before."

      "Yeah, over a decade before. FEDRA doesn't leave the boarder in case you forgot. I wouldn't know where to go. How to get through the infected . . . The package could get damaged or lost."

      Marlene's lips thinned slightly before she opened her mouth to say something again. Her words cut off by the battle cry of another, and a thump to the wall. Marlene and the other firefly lifted their guns at the motion, Clement following suit before turning around to see a man and a woman standing behind them. Twin expressions of confusion overtaking their faces.

     Although, what surprised her most of all wasn't the two war torn adults standing in front of her, but the child sized lump laying in a heap on the floor. Currently hissing at the man who threw her against it. A child? A fucking child?

       Marlene moved forward slightly. Holding her self up by the sheer will of her mind. "Joel?"

       "Marlene?" The man twisted the face her. His gun still leveled at the kid in front of him. A puzzled expression of his own to match on his dark eyes.

       "You okay?" She asked the girl instead of speaking directly to the man. The oddly familiar man. His eyes so similar to another's Clement had seen before and couldn't put her mind on. The girl nodded, her pale face paler still. Eyes big and innocent and incredibly bright in comparison to the dimmed ones of those around her.

        She was a product of the OZ after all. She'd never been out of the walls, and what was out there would eat her alive before she made it ten miles. If Clement knew anything, she knew that. She reached for her switchblade, only to be met with the shuffling of Joel's foot catching the blade before her. Another hiss to protest his interference.

      "Ellie," Marlene attempted to soothe. Using what Clement assumed to be the girl's name. The girl's focus entirely set on Joel and the switch blade his foot was concealing. "Ellie," Marlene tried again. Ellie finally turning to look at her.

     "Oh shit!" She cried out when her gaze zeroed in on Marlene. Notably the gunshot wound in her side. She moved slightly, before remembering she was being held up at gunpoint.

      "No, it's okay," Marlene told her. "And you can't be stupid like this."

     "So this is who Robert screwed us over with? The Che Guevara of Boston?" The woman behind Joel moved closer. Clement recognizing her as the one they put in lock up not even a day prior. The one she handed off to Lee to deal with. And then it hit Clement . . . They were smugglers. Notorious smugglers on the black market trade of Boston. Although their names were slipping Clement's mind in that moment.

      She glanced at Clement. Her eyes narrowing. "Your war must be going pretty shitty for you to be lounging about with FEDRA, huh?"

    "Yeah it kind of has been," Marlene snapped.

     "We needed Robert," Joel exclaimed. A one track mindset.

      "Well, he fucked us all over didn't he?" Clement said for the first time. His eyes narrowing at her.

       "Did you kill him?"

      "Yes —" she said immediately before turning back toward Marlene. "So the kid. Is she the package?" Clement asked. Marlene nodded in confirmation.

      "We need a truck battery," Joel said again, this time talking to Marlene.

      "Give me back my knife," Ellie said weakly, but all the adults ignored her.

     "Yeah, and I need a time machine to about twelve fucking hours ago. Get to the back of the line," Clement told the man before looking back toward Marlene. "Bea will be there? All I do is take her to the capital building?"

     "The truck battery? He sold it to you didn't he," Joel said, cutting Clement off once more. "Why?"

     Ellie reached out for her knife. Joel and the woman behind him pointing their guns at her. Ellie raised her hand in defeat at the same time Clement and the two fireflies raised their guns to Joel and the woman. "Not at her!" Marlene yelled. "Point it at me."

Joel surprisingly listened to Marlene. Pointing his gun at her with a long drawn out flair of the wrist, but pointing it at her all the same. "And to answer your question," she continued. "I needed a car battery more than you. No offense Joel but Tommy's just one man."

Joel shuttered at the name. The woman standing behind him visibly tensing as well. Marlene shrugged, leaning her body against her firefly friend for support. "It's our business to know things."

Clement rolled her eyes, scoffing at the thought. Robert, no doubt whispered the same nonsense about Tommy in the firefly leader's ear. It would be just like him to do that. The sleazy bastard's loyalty was a fickle thing, and often won over by a bottle of whiskey or some extra ration cards. Sure, he was a FEDRA informant, but he was also an informant of the fireflies. Of smugglers on the black market. At the end of the day he wasn't trustworthy. Robert only served Robert.

"To know things?" His eyebrows scrunched although the complete lack of emotion on the man's face was a tad unsettling. Also, a tad impressive but Clement wouldn't admit that part to anyone. "You're the cause of it. You turned my own brother against me."

Marlene rolled her eyes. "Okay Joel."

Tommy . . . Tommy Miller. Joel Miller — his brother no doubt. She hadn't known that. Although, it's not as if she knew Tommy as more than a high up firefly in Marlene's circle, and he left the OZ years ago. Probably almost four years now, but as Robert told her earlier. He went M.I.A few months back, and nobody knew what happened to him. Clement assumed he was dead.

Clement hoped he was dead . . . He should have died a long time ago. He should have.

Joel Miller, yes. She could see the resemblance now that she knew the name. The same dark eyes. The same crooked nose. Although Joel had a meaner look about him than his brother did. An older one too . . . He must be the older brother If Clement was going off all the gray hairs.

Marlene stared at Ellie. Then back at Clement. Then back at Joel and the woman. Her mind made up about something. "We were gonna move Ellie out of the zone tonight, but now I'm thinking you three would be a better option —"

"I work alone."

"Absolutely not —"

"No way, I'm not fucking going with these guys!"

Clement, Joel, and Ellie all protested at the same exact time. Marlene bouncing on her feet impatiently. "Truck battery, Bea, needs to get to the capital building. Today I'd say yes, you all work together."

"Like I said, I work alone. Either I take the kid myself or I shoot everyone here," Clement bluffed. Although she reckoned she could take a couple of them down with her before anyone got the chance to fire.

       "Hmmm, good luck with that one. You fire at me and you better not miss," Joel said a moment after.

       Clement stared at him. Really stared at him for the first time that day. "Oh honey, I don't miss." They stared each other down for a moment. A look of irritation on both their faces. Joel liked Clement just about as much as she liked him. Which is to say not at all.

"Tess," Joel said turning toward the woman behind him. "We don't have time for this."

She nodded to her partner, but only addressed Marlene. "Who is she?"

"To you she's cargo," Marlene responded. Hiding something no doubt, but Clement didn't care. She just needed to get to Bea. Marlene could have as many secrets as she wanted as long as Clement could convince Bea to leave behind the terrorist organization and head back to FEDRA's training academy.

     "We don't smuggle people," Joel said, and Clement realized they were smugglers. Black Market smugglers. Which meant they'd been outside the walls a lot more than she had. Knew the area better, and could get her to Bea faster. Maybe teaming up with yeehaw Woody and Tess wasn't such a bad idea.

      "There's a team of fireflies waiting for her at the old capital building. You can get them past FEDRA checkpoints, they can get you the rest of the way. I know what is waiting out there. We were going with an entire squad and for that very reason. And now I don't have a squad. I don't have a truck. FEDRA murdered my whole crew, left me shot — but what I do have is you three."

     "And I know what you are all capable of for better or for worse . . ."

     Ellie's head darted between the three adults and back toward Marlene again. Eyebrows raised to her hairline. "What are they capable of?" She asked, but only silenced filled her question. No one knowing quite how to answer the young teenager on their resume. Clement herself had a long list of enemies, and an even longer list of dead bodies shadowing her every move. She's sure both Tess and Joel had their fair share of those as well . . . Especially as Tommy's brother.

   "You get her there safely, and you'll all get what you need. I swear, my guys won't jeopardize Ellie's safety."

    "I swear," she said again after no one responded for a long moment. Marlene, leader of the fireflies, begging Clement of all people to do her a favor. Eric would be pissed off she didn't just shoot her, and end the fireflies in Boston once and for all, but for some unknown reason, there was a force preventing Clement from doing so.

      Maybe she was going crazy.

    "We're in," Tess said after discussing in whispered tones with Joel. Clement nodded her head in agreement, although her decision had been made hours before when she first received Bea's letter. She couldn't let her die . . . Not when she made a promise all those years before. "We take her and the soldier to state house, your guys give us everything we want, and if they don't we kill the girl."

     "Deal," Marlene said without missing a beat.

     "Really? That fast?" Ellie asked, but Clement couldn't help but chuckle at the woman's words. Killing Clement? She'd like to see them try. Lots of people tried to kill Clement over the years and they never lived to tell the tale that was for sure.

     "My team won't jeopardize you," Marlene assured her. "Now go get your backpack." The girl listened, leaping up and hurrying back into the other room to pick up her pack.

       "Alright, let's go," Tess said once Ellie came back out. The girl looked at Marlene one last time before turning around and following the other two.

     "Clem," Marlene called when Clement turned to face the others. "Don't fuck this up." And Clement couldn't understand the heaviness of that statement but she would later for sure.

      Once outside she noticed to pouring rain. After a moment of hesitation, they all pulled their coat firmly around his body at the sheer impact of the stormy cold. Clement had no such protection but stopped shivering at the second hour she stayed on the ledge, her body becoming numb to the cold after being submerged in it for so long.

A sailor always has his sea legs, her father's voice reminded her. His teachings always surfacing in a storm. As if Mother Nature herself created such a monstrosity for Clement's pleasure only. A constant reminder of her father's teachings. His memory dancing on in the howling winds.

     "Meet me at the southern most exit tonight. That old abandoned building right outside the walls. Not as many patrols there and I imagine we can slip through pretty easily during guard change."

      "Where are you going?" Ellie asked. "Shouldn't we all stay together."

      "I need to take care of a few things and pack up some supplies. I will meet you there. At midnight," she told them again before slipping off into the storm once more.

    
                                       . . .


    HAD ANYONE TOLD CLEMENT THAT MORNING SHE'D BE SMUGGLING a firefly package out of the OZ, she would have thought them insane. Fireflies had, and would always be the enemy. The only difference now was there was something the fireflies had that Clement wanted.

Packing some things for the road was meant to be a quiet affair. A moment for Clement to get lost in her thoughts, and not worry about anything but what she needed to bring with her. A flashlight, gun. Ammo, a lot of ammunition, water, her lighter; she'd need to be diligent, exposure to the elements killed just as many people as the infected after a couple years of the outbreak. People often died from hypothermia before they starved to death or got attacked. A fire? Water? These things could mean the difference between life and death.

      Her trusty lighter did the job nicely. All those years she lived without the security of walls and a military to protect them. Those years she traveled, traveled all the way from Arizona. All those nights when the crispy air dropped to freezing temperatures, and a fire meant the difference between an empty stomach and a full one.

     Some of those nights she hadn't thought she would make it. That they would make it . . . Somehow, eighteen years later she lived to tell the tale. The tale of her cross country roadtrip, back when the world was still on fire, and no one knew what to make of it. Society had collapsed, and they were all stumbling around in the dark trying to make sense of their new reality.

     Eighteen years later would the world still look familiar? Fourteen years since she'd been past the outer edges of the Boston QZ. She never dared push her way into the city before. Not when she knew the kind of infected which dwelled in its depths.

    Now, as she finished zipping up her FEDRA uniform, she wondered if there'd be more infected than before? Less than before? As far as anyone knew, infected were immortal. They wouldn't die on their own. Wouldn't one day fade into the past like a bad acid trip. No, they were around forever, and one day they would be as old as the sky. As the sun. One day they'd wipe out the sorry few left of God's once mighty people.

    It was no longer humanity's world. It hadn't been for twenty years . . . If it ever was. With one last look around the small room, Clement barreled out the door into the pouring rain. At least the rain, and the cover of darkness would hide their escape into the city. No one would be all the wiser. Not until they were long gone. In a couple days time, Clement would arrive back within the walls of FEDRA with Bea in tow.

    Under the circumstances, the government wouldn't consider her M.I.A. No, not when the plan was to wipe out the firefly squad with a couple grenades. Killing all of them in one fell swoop, while saving Bea at the same time. Saving her from herself at least. The girl far too stubborn for her own good.

     Going off and joining the fireflies? How fucking blind did someone have to be to do that? Wasn't she meant to be in school learning why not to join the fireflies? She was set up to join the ranks of FEDRA when she turned eighteen.

     Just like Deja . . . And just like Deja she was too weak hearted to make it as one. Maybe Clem was the problem? Maybe she should have been harder on the girl over the years? Trained her better for reality. Maybe she should have cared more about her wellbeing . . . The going ons of her life.

     Well, what-ifs would get Clement no where. Not now. Not when she needed to diligent in her pursuit of the young girl. She'd need to remember she's entering a war zone. The dead zone.

   All forces had been out that night, attempting to catch any fireflies coming and going from the QZ. Already, two different groups of them had been captured and swiftly executed, the herd making their way toward something in Boston. Something outside of the QZ limits, and something life changing if they were all willing to risk their lives in an infected city.

    Clement heard as much on the radio she sat by half the night. Lying in wait for the perfect time to plan the escape. Midnight, that was their golden opportunity. At midnight units changed shifts, and there'd be a ten minute window to escape into the city unnoticed. They'd need to move fast, but guessing from the practiced ease with which Tess and Joel handled themselves in the firefly building, she assumed they left the city frequently.

    Most well-to-do smugglers had a business established off of trust. Trust that they would secure the necessary goods from those outside the walls to keep their customers happy. And Tommy's brother? Well, she imagined he was quite capable of holding his own. Especially out in the wastelands.

    "You've got to be shitting me," A voice echoed. At first, Clement thought it must be Joel or Tess. Given the fact this was the abandoned structure they were told to meet her at, but with no sign of them, her senses went haywire. Something was wrong. Something went wrong . . . Already.

   "Turn around, get on your knees!" Lee's voice carried, Clement picking up her speed to barrel into the path of Lee and three other occupants. All with the arms held up in the air, Lee's rifle pointed directly at them.

   The only other man, a lot older than Lee with speckles of white in his dark hair, and tan skin wrinkled with age, Joel; approached the gun. Positioning himself in front of the girl Marlene was worried about. Her size small and feeble although she tried to claim the contrary with her expression, eyes shooting daggers at Lee and his gun.

    The children of the apocalypse were truly a different breed.

   "Get on your knees," Lee shouted at the three prisoners. His foot tapping the floor in front of him. His father wouldn't have asked twice, shooting the people after their first failed attempt to listen.

   "Just get on your knees," Tess said, pushing her long graying hair out of her own face. She eyed the gun, turning to notice Clement as well as she got on her knees. Ellie following suit. Her companion, Joel continued to stare down the barrel of Lee's gun.

    If he was afraid, Clement couldn't tell. His face completely blank. The woman, seemingly growing tired with his antics tugged on his arm, pulling him to his knees beside her. Lee pulled out the walkie from his pocket, wiping the rain off with the inside of his jacket. "Got three unknowns in the eastern district — looks like fireflies . . . bring back up, over and out."

     Shit.

    "I can handle it from here, it's my shift," Clement said loudly. The attention of her comrade focusing on her for the first time. He breathed out a sigh of relief at the sight of her. Another friendly face. Little did he know she wasn't friendly, and she wouldn't be a part of whatever arrest he was cooking up.

   "Steele?" He cupped his hand over his face to see her better in the roaring rain. "Hell, where have you been all day? Diaz said your radio was off. We couldn't reach you."

   "It died," she lied through her teeth. He smirked at her, eyes ablaze with the idea that the grand Clement Steele failed. That he could finally nock her down a few pegs.

    "Guess I'm not the only screw up anymore huh?" He chuckled, gun still pointed at rhetorical three kneeling on the floor.

    With Lee distracted, Tess set her gaze upon Clement. Dark hazel eyes watching the rifle in her arms carefully, but catching on to the act she was playing up. "You can look the other way, can't you?" The woman said to Clement, her eyes darting to the young girl and then back up again. She was afraid, they all were. Clement could tell that much, even if her talents were generally good for nothing else. And although the woman was afraid, she held her head up high, the rain falling atop like a crown.

    "Yeah, like she's gonna help fucking fireflies? You're better off asking the infected for a kiss," Lee explained. Rifle pointed at Joel's head, and itching to fire.

   "We aren't fireflies," the man shot back, his voice as strong as the muscles on his forearm.

   Lee smacked his lips together, lowering his gun back to waist level. "What are you even doing out here?"

   The man scrunched his nose, the small scar before his brow a silver slither in the moonlight. Despite kneeling in the mud, his temper didn't subside. "Sightseeing."

The huff of air was all Clement could do to keep herself from allowing the small amusement to form on her face. Instead she raised her eyebrows, high above her hairline. "Cute." A bewildered expression formed on Joel's face, his eyes unsettling enough Clement looked away quickly, to not be caught in their trap.

   "What I fucking tell you man?" Lee finished zipping up his pants, shining his flashlight in the face of the other three. "STAY THE FUCK HOME."

   With a pinched expression, she asked, "You know them?"

   "Him," he sneered, "he's a smuggler."

  Clement chuckled humorously. Of course he knew the fucking smuggler. Lee was a rat after all.

   "Come on, we've got a kid," Tess begged with an innocent act. Pointing to Ellie. Who couldn't be much older than twelve or thirteen. "Just let us do this run... we'll split half the goods with you."

    "Half?!" Lee said, arms folded as if he was seriously considering their bribe. Considering being bought off by a few extra goods and trophies. "More like everything all off for the rest of my life - not risking fucking ass for half off."

    The woman shrugged, resembling more of a wet dog than a person in her current predicament. "Done," she declared half-heartedly. The man shooting her a look of contempt. "What? It doesn't fucking matter Joel if we're dead."

    "Listen to your lady friend here man, she knows what's up," Lee told him, twirling his gun between his hands.

    Joel tilted his head to the younger man, taking a deep but calming breath. "Fine but I-"

    "It's my call Lee. I get to bring them in . . ."

    "No it's not," a third voice from behind Clement hollered. Moving toward the crowd. Joseph lifted his eyebrows at Clement, gun raised. "It's my shift Clement. What are you doing here?" He asked her gently.

   Joel groaned, his eyes rolling back into his head, but Tess beside him, likely his partner, shot him a glare.

  Clement fiddled with the chain around her neck as she stood shocked into silence. What was she to say now? Eric wanted backup? No, that wouldn't make sense.

  "We do this by the book. You both know this" With Joseph's declaration, Lee pulled out the scanner, meant to scan a person for infection. Even if it was extremely unlikely people sneaking out of the QZ were infected, it still fell under protocol, and in times like these, protocol was the most important thing to follow; and the way the smuggler's body went rigid, an attempt to calm his anger, was only a bonus.

   "Oh come on. Is that really necessary?" Tess asked, her brows raised. But it was the girl next to her who caught Clement's attention. Her body began to tremble slightly as she looked as if she might hurl at any minute.

   They really shouldn't bring a child out into the dead zone with them. Why did she let fucking Marlene of all people talk her into it?

   "Since when do you care about protocol?" She asked. Trying to regain some control of the situation. Joseph's arrival messed up her plans. Clement felt her authority wavering with every passing moment, her uniform more of a joke than anything. Smugglers, typically hated FEDRA more than most in the QZ, their interest in the black market making them more at risk of imprisonment than other citizens. Even if FEDRA for the most part left them alone.

    They wouldn't listen to her. Even if Tess was trying to follow her lead, and the two other soldiers here made it harder to think on her feet. To get them out of the situation if need be.

  "Just fucking do it Lee!" His voice going higher at the end. Without another word, Lee shot his arms up into the air. He approached the trio and stuck the device into the crease of the woman's neck. The scanner making a small clicking noise before coming up green; Clement let out a breath. She was not infected.

    The same could be said for Joel, who was scanned next, the green marking him clean appearing instantly. In most cases, people from the QZ were always clear - very few places held actual threats of infected anymore. FEDRA clearing out the infected swarms in the zone, and blocking off the rest.

    The likelihood of being clear was so high Joseph didn't even bother to keep his gun raised as he walked over to Clement. Pale skin clammy in the harsh lighting of the thunderstorm. "Tell me what's going on really fucking fast. What are you really doing here?"

That was why, when Ellie, that wild little girl, pulled out her concealed pocket knife and stabbed Lee in the thigh, Joseph was unable to raise her gun before the woman and man both grabbed their forgotten guns, littered on the muddy ground.

   "The fuck," Lee yelled, stumbling backwards from the sheer impact of the stab. The girl being much stronger than Clement had given her credit for. Around the wound, blood trickled out, oozing down his leg as he begun to paint like a dog.

   "Ellie!" The woman shouted, her own voice wavering as she held her gun up at Clement; who was still too dumbstruck to really do a damn thing.

   "You little bitch," he screamed, seeing only the red of his wound, and not the sheer terror of her eyes.

   Her eyes... déjà vu struck the solider instantly, staring into the doe eyes of Ellie and being transported back to another instance. Where another girl was lost and afraid, another girl was acting out against those who scared her.

    "Calm yourself Lee," Joseph told him. "We all can remain calm."

    "We can fix this," Joel said somewhere in the distance, placing his body in front of Ellie as her human shield. He'd die first if Lee really did fire that shot, the younger man's fingers hovering over the trigger.The girl, Ellie, hide further behind Joel, his face a mask to his true emotions, half concealed by the shadows cast upon them by Lee's flashlight.

    She was just a little girl... a scared child — No, stop it Clem! You are going to blow up her firefly friends in a day. Don't get attached. Never get attached.

   "Move!" He yelled again, snapping Clement out of her thoughts long enough to move into action. Her footsteps heavy, and leaving muddy footprints in her wake.

    "What are you gonna do? Shoot the kid? Relax, we're take them in for questioning." She tried, still holding her gun up at the sky. If she pulled on Joseph and Lee her cover would be blown. She'd either have to kill them or never return back to the QZ.

      She'd be hung as a firefly informant. A traitor to the force.

    "Listen to her Joel," Tess begged, her companion looking the part of wild beast instead of human. When push came to shove, would he really be willing to die for the teenager? A smuggler with a moral compass, an interesting concept indeed.

    But Lee had other ideas, his body rigid as he approached Clement, spit from his words splattering across his face. "Oh, now you want to take prisoners? Forget Steele, I'm done listening to your crap."

   Suddenly, and with a lot of force, Lee shoved her out of his way. Clement falling to the ground in an instant, blood pooling from the side of her head where it struck the concrete. The rain washing the crimson liquid down into her eyes, blocking most of her vision.

     "Hey!" Joseph said. "We don't do this. Not now."

   What she lacked in vision, she made up for in hearing. Joel's body colliding with Lee's in an instant, tackling the younger man to the floor. As the thunder roared around them, the sound of Joel beating Lee's head in was all she could make out. Over and over and over and over again... god, how many times was he going to hit him before he was satisfied? His hands painted scarlet, his body painted in guts and brain parts — surely Lee would be dead by now.

     Clement then did what she never thought she could do. She stood up, blood pooling down her face, and raised her gun on Joseph Knapp. A long time friend, if Clement could even consider herself to have long time friends. "Get on your knees," she told him.

    [LIZZIE SPEAKS]

Clement is actually such an interesting character to write cause she's very morally gray. Like I don't agree with a lot of the decisions she makes but I also can't fault her for the way she ended up given the circumstances of her backstory.

Also, she suffers from a very serious case of PTSD. If we haven't already picked up on that from all the ghosts haunting her. She is not actually seeing dead people, or having schizophrenia or manic episodes. The ghosts are more manifestations of her guilty conscience than anything. She mostly knows they aren't there, and rather is reminded of their existence in her head instead of seeing them.

The biggest rewrite of the book happened this chapter. As in Clement is going outside the wall to go fetch Bea rather than just being there. I think it gives her more motive as I don't think she's the kind of person to help Ellie and Joel out of the goodness of her heart.

Meele is now the official shipname for Joel and Clem. Thanks to w1steriaa_ for that one! Also, I'd love to hear if anyone has any theories about Clement's past. Don't worry, we will get more information on her life the past twenty years over the course of the first season.