A/N: Hi everybody. I have 'edited' Chapters 19 and 24. I would suggest going to check them out, otherwise you won't understand some tings in this chapter.

Wow. It's been a long time, huh? So much has changed. I have lost beloved family members and you guys have stood by me. You will never know how much that means to me.

This is a momentous and, for me personally, a very bitter-sweet and relieving moment. I posted the first chapter of Danger isn't a Game on Christmas Day, 2009. Now, it's the 29th of April, 2011 and a Royal Wedding is taking place. So, in honor of these two occasions I will shout out the two readers who have seemed to be here since DAY ONE!
Lemonn-Limee: You have been a continuous area of inspiration and constructive criticism. I LOVE YOU for that. Thanks for all the reviews and PM's you have sent me over the past 15 months.
ninjapenguins: Thank you for everything.

Almost forgot - Amy.

My biggest shout out ever goes to Amourenvie.

She has been a correspondent, confident and someone who I could bounce ideas off and talk to about all things Danger isn't a Game. She was a respected 'beta.' Thank you for starting this whole thing. Thank you for continually replying honestly to my ideas and whatever idiotic ramblings I told you. Thank you for listening. Go and read her story, Instincts.

IT WILL BLOW YOUR MIND!

Disclaimer: Ally Carter owns all. Except that which I have created.

WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS GRAPHIC CONTENT!

"I believe that everything happens for a reason. People change so that you can learn to let go, things go wrong so that you appreciate them when they're right, you believe lies so you eventually learn to trust no one but yourself, and sometimes good things fall apart so better things can fall together."
-Marilyn Monroe

"That which does not kill us makes us stronger."
— Friedrich Nietzsche

"Live as if you were to die tomorrow. Learn as if you were to live forever."
— Mahatma Gandhi

"Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away."
— Maya Angelou

Chapter 25/Epilouge: The Wanderer

Cammie POV

"Do it, Zach!" my father's voice rose up above the cacophony below and it stopped me dead in my tracks.

I lent over the railing, eyes wide mouth open with a cry on my lips. I looked at Zach, standing near the exit and I looked at my dad surrounded by circle members. I looked at his finger pressed on the button.

"No!" Cavan cried out.

I watched as Zach dropped the remote.

And I saw bright light.

Most people are afraid of heights, small spaces, bugs, spiders and snakes – all the mundane things in life that make a person who they are. No matter what they say though, the one thing that every living organism in the world fears is the inevitable– Death.

But what's the point of fearing something that always lurks behind our happiness and that we all must someday accept? Death will welcome us all eventually, but we still fear it. Doesn't that make the greatest mundane fear in life something different?

My body was on fire. Everything burned, but the pain let me know that I was alive. It was dark, close to sunrise. I didn't know anything else besides those two things: I was alive and it was close to dawn. The grass beneath me was damp from the night's chill and I was in a field.

The field was the most beautiful and vivacious colour of green. The trees and bushes echoed the field's feeling of peace and serenity. Roses, lilies, tulips, poppies, daisies and orchids dotted the ground. I lay on my back, staring at the nothingness of the still-night sky. The trickling of the river and the rustling of the leaves in the tree's seemed familiar, but I couldn't place it.

The field's appearance was only interrupted by the huge, black pile of smoking debris. I sat up, slowly, feeling every muscle in my body scream their protests. My arms felt horrible, my ribs ached and the adrenaline still pumped in my veins. I swayed to my feet, feeling the blood oozing down my legs, arms and face.

I started to limp towards the burning building, screaming their names at the top of my voice. I hoped to hell, to heaven to every bloody thing in my world that they lived; that they weren't dead. But, that stupid voice in my head whispered the things I didn't want to hear. They're dead Cammie. There was no chance that they survived; which is why Zach gave you that look. Stop being a stupid little girl, Cammie, and wake up to the real world.

No! You're wrong!

"Dad! Dad, where are you! You can't leave me here alone again! Dad!"

Dead Cammie. Just like –

NO

"DAD!"

Something rustled in the trees behind me and a branch snapped with added weight. I flinched and spun around, my hair whipping me across the face. The dried blood had made it into dreadlocks, along with the sweat. My eyes scanned the tree line, not seeing anything. Another branch snapped and those haunting thoughts crept back into my mind.

The woman wasn't human anymore. Her hair hung limp around her shoulders, covered in dirt, sweat and dried blood. Her skin was stretched tight across her face. I could see her cheek bones clearly. Her eyes looked like they had sunk into her skull. She wore a grey t-shirt that stopped at mid-thigh and nothing else. Any bare skin I saw was covered in dried blood, old and new bruises of every colour and fresh cuts. She cradled her left arm to her chest. If she had been naked, I would have seen her rib cage. She was bent over and I saw her spine as the tight skin attempted to stretch.

She lunged for me. Her skeletal arm slid through the bars and grabbed my wrist with a surprisingly iron-like grip. Her nails dug into my skin and clawed my arm, creating long gashes down the sides and around my wrists. I wanted to scream out…

My screamed, sounding like the human-animals I had seen in those cells. I pushed my hands against my ears screaming louder and louder. I scrunched up my eyes and they burned with the salty tang of tears needing to be shed. I fell to my knees, the images I was trying to expel exploding into my head like fireworks on New Years Eve. It runs through my head, like a slide show.

Chains hanging suspended from the ceiling. Each holds a person over the ground. There were four men and a single woman, their heads shaved crudely with symbols and icons. Pentagons. Hexagons. Fire. The gashes on their bald skulls bleed down over yellow eyes and grey skin pulled taught over a skull.

Boom.

The smell of burnt flesh and burning skin assaults all my senses. I hear the screams as they happen, carrying through the big metal doors. I gaze at the doors, wondering and hoping that whatever is in there doesn't get out. A human hand hits the small window. It slowly slides down and I hear one last scream when finally the sound stops. A black thing tumbles out and lands outside the door. Slowly it starts to move. The person lifts itself up onto all fours and crawls towards me. I back up and my hip slams into the dirt wall. I'm cornered. The thing crawls closer and closer. I see the flesh sizzle and even peel away in big clumps. I scream, and the sound is unlike anything I've ever heard in my life.

Boom.

Alone. Always alone. My prison was quiet. No light shone through. The shadows didn't even dance. It was the kind of dark with no shadows. I was covered in dry blood, mine and others. I was naked, in the corner of my cell. Hunched in a ball and whining like an injured animal. They would be back. They would hurt me until I submitted. I was nothing but their entertainment. They would come and they would clean me. Then they would attack, like a pack of scavenger dogs. Alone. Always alone.

Boom. Boom.

An endless pit of horror. Human figures thrown in like an old toy into a toy box. There must have been a thousand of them, and they were all in various states of dismemberment. Blood slicked the walls all around them in such quantities that it appeared to have been painted on. It was a pile of corpses – a high, ugly mountain of bodies. Some of them naked, others partially clothed – some had their heads ripped off, others their arms, others still had their entire torsos gnawed in two. Bloodied bones littered the area; some still covered the chunks of rotting flesh. More bodies were thrown in, some still alive. Thrown in like discarded and old toys in a toy box. I noticed for the first time, that a few of the bodies were of young children – infants. I even saw one crying as it crawled across the bodies, trying to escape.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The screaming stopped just as the images shut off.

I knelt in grass, hysterical. I was panting, sobbing, screaming. I wasn't sure what I was doing. My nails had cut into the flesh of my head and the cuts stung as they started to bleed. The little voice in my head whispered again. Dead, Cammie. Just like Solomon will be. My words came back in a roar, sounding like thunder. I hate you. You lied to me and you lied to my mum. You promised that you would stay.

I shook the thought away, ignoring the tears and my pained body. I searched through the rubble. I shifted for an hour and I came across body after body; all Cavan agents. Zach had managed to blow up the whole base. I pocketed three guns, with assorted ammo. Exhaustion over came me eventually and I gave up. I was always taught to keep going, but my instructors never had this situation in mind when they spoke.

I wandered back to the field and sat down, loosely holding a gun as I rested my hands across my knees. My father's knife glints in the beginnings of the sun's light as it began its rise into the sky. I rested in the grass and watched, the tears spilling from my eyes.

Solomon. Dad. Zach.

Dead.

If someone asked me now about my greatest fear, I wouldn't answer death. My answer would be this: Living forever or being immortal.

To live forever would be more of a curse then a blessing; more of a curse than death. You would go through life – through each day taking everything for granted. If I or someone else lived forever, I or they would loose more than we would gain. They would fall in love and be happier than ever before in their life time. But, eventually, they'd be alone. For, that which they loved was mortal and mortality has to end eventually. And the end would grow closer with every breath their loved one would take.

An immortal person would have to watch everyone they loved grow older around them as time moved on. They themselves would remain on earth, the same. The world around them ever-changing. Comparing a person of immortality to a rock on the beach is accurate. The tide changes constantly while the rock could do nothing but let the wave's crash against it.

I'm the immortal. Zach, my dad… they're both dead and I'm left alone in this world with their memories, knowing that I will never see them again.

My grandmother once said that a blind person envies those who can see and a deaf man envies those who can hear. But she said that she envied both the deaf man and the blind man. A blind man hears more than those who can see and tries to fill the gap left by his blindness. A deaf man sees more than a person who can hear and he rejoices in the beauty of the world around him.

Those choices that I had to make have now been answered. My father's death, Chelsea Goode's death, Zach's death – they all won't be in vain. I will fight till my last breath. I will find the Mortescence and I will hunt down anyone who has ever been apart of the Cavan and I will kill them. I haven't found Cavan's body. I haven't found Alex's body. So I will hunt them down and pierce their hearts with my father's dagger to make sure that they are dead. The sun shines on my face and I get up off the ground and turn towards the horizon.

Zach was right.

A year ago he told me that someone knows what happened to my father. Someone knows why the Circle is chasing me. He was right…

Now I'm going to leave here and spend the rest of my life trying to find them.

I'll be back. And when I am, I promise that I'll have answers.

I start walking.

Robert Frost once said that 'in three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on.' Life does go on. I still go on. I will be the Avenging Angel. I will go on and on until my last breath. I don't know where I am going. I don't know where I am. I don't know how long has passed. I don't know who's alive and who's dead. I don't know whether I will live long enough to see my mother and my friends again. I know this though.

I am Cameron Morgan.

I am a Gallagher Girl.

I am a spy.

I am a survivor.

All that is gold does not glitter.
Not all those who wander are lost.

A/N: Stay Tuned. I hope to have a sequel up at the end of this year.

Please, Read and Review one last time for me?

-Agent 006