Lyra gained consciousness as the smell of whiskey and cigarettes masking the stench of rotten flesh made her stomach lurch. She found herself sitting on a moth-eaten couch in a room dimly lit by the gray light shining through cracked windows. Her heart thudded painfully in her chest. She knew the place, most of her memories of it were faded like old photographs, but she knew full well of the horrors of it. Finally, she saw the source of the smell.

A rotting corpse was sitting in a chair placed in the corner of the room. It was hard to tell just how long it had been there but it was well on its way to decomposing as its hair had become dark and stringy, the skin was ashen and had clung loosely to its bones. It no longer had a nose for it had already rotted away, and by the looks of its mouth was following after.

The most disturbing thing of all was how its eyes seemed to be completely untouched by death. They were blue and glassy and looked as if they were popping out of its skull. It almost looked like it was watching with an accusing gaze.

She could feel her stomach lurch painfully again as she realized who it belonged to, and she knew what had happened to him.

She could not stay there any longer; in the corner of her eye, she saw a door that led outside was slightly ajar. Almost immediately, she jumped up from the couch and started running towards it, but she was not even five feet from the couch before an unforeseen force slammed her against the wall.

It was the corpse. It appeared to have sprung to life and caught her before she could escape with inhuman speed. Its hands clasped tightly around her neck, and its eyes bore angrily into her, panting hot rancid air into her face.

A scream began to escape her lips, but the corpse choked the cry into a helpless gurgle.

"You-will-pay!" It seethed. Lyra trembled in its hands. She was fighting back the tears as she stared down at the zombie's torso with its shirt crusted with dried blood and tattered with holes.

It bashed her head against the wall.

"Look at me!" It barked. Lyra reluctantly brought her eyes up to the corpse's. She tried to give it a pleading look, but it only stared on in hate. She moved her lips wordlessly, but the sound just wasn't coming.

What could one possibly say to a dead person? Explain oneself? Apologize? She could only plead with her eyes and hope for mercy, but she knew well that there would be none.

The zombie took her face up into its hands. She inwardly recoiled at the sense of being touched by something so disgusting. The thing tried to smile with whatever it had left of its mouth.

"This is more than you deserve."

"Don't-" she cried hoarsely, but it was no use.

The last thing she heard was the sound of her own neck snapping.

Lyra's eyes immediately shot open. She took a couple quick desperate breaths before she realized that it was just a dream. She was, however, startled by her new surrounding. A dull pit started forming in her stomach as she began to recall the night before, disheartened to find that the horrible situation she found herself in was not just another nightmare. She pulled the sleeping bag snuggly up to her shoulders to keep out the cold. Her thoughts had begun to wonder what would happen next. That odd man that had stuck up for her said they'd sort it out in the morning. Would these next few hours be her last? She wondered this as she anxiously a waited for someone to return with a verdict. She was aware that she was in a place that she was not meant to be and feared that even with Scout and that other man she would not be able to leave alive. Slowly, she took a deep breath, and a small tear squeezed out from the corner of her eye as it began to settle in her heart that this was perhaps the end for her. All she felt she could hope for was that when they did decide to kill her, they'd make it quick.

Her thoughts went to her brother, Daniel, while she waited. If souls existed, perhaps she'd meet him where ever souls go after death. She doubted this, however, for he was a much better person than she ever was and if there was a Heaven then he'd certainly be there and she would be in- that other place. A sharp pain ran through her chest as she felt as if the boy was near and dear to her heart was lost to her forever. Knowing the end would come any minute, she pushed the thoughts away so that she might face death with some dignity.

To escape these weary thoughts she resolved to sleep until her time had come. Slowly, her eyes grew heavier and she could feel herself falling back to sleep until she felt something touch her. Her head snapped upward, expecting to see one of her captors with their decision. A small shriek ripped through the air as she was staring into a set of two black voids the creature crouching over her. Instinctively, she kicked the thing right in the chin, and although she was restrained by her sleeping bag, there was enough force to send it falling back while cradling its head.

"Pyro! I told you to leave that poor girl alone!" another voice scolded the creature. Lyra sat up to see the odd man from last night sitting at a desk with papers scattered all over it. The man's face softened into a smile and tipped his yellow hard hat to her. "Good mornin' darlin'. Don't mind him much, he means no harm."

The man in the gas mask seemed to have fled another corner. Lyra watched on in bewilderment as she watched him pull out a lighter and stare into the tiny flame while rubbing his chin. It took her a moment to gather her bearings from the whole scene, eventually looking around to find a plate of toast and a cup of coffee placed near her sleeping bag.

"Scout mentioned you might be hungry so I thought I might try to get you something," the man explained. Lyra eyed the toast for a moment as she was still wary of this man and his intentions. Eventually, she took a small bit of toast as she rationalized that these men had her at their mercy and that if they wanted to do anything to harm her they wouldn't bother doing it as subtly as poisoning or dosing her food.

"So what's your name darlin'?" he asked.

"Ah- Lyra-" she said rather feebly.

"Lyra what?"

Lyra had just taken another bite of toast as he asked for her last name. She felt a slight tug inside her chest as she felt a bit uneasy to answer. It had been a very long time since someone inquired about her full name.

"J-Jennings," she struggled to say with a hard swallow.

"Lyra Jennin's" the Texan repeated aloud slowly. He seemed to consider it carefully before chortling, "Is that your real name, sweetheart?"

The poor girl at his question. It did sound awfully silly, didn't it?

"It is," she admitted through an embarrassed smile.

"Sorry," the man laughed while he shuffled through some papers on his desk, "it just sounds a bit -eh- idealistic."

She paused and thought about how to take that comment. It was a brief moment before she nervously laughed, "Yes, I suppose so. I guess my parents were just idealists!"

The two shared a chuckle, alleviating some of the tension that was hanging heavily in the air.

"So what's your name?" Lyra asked feeling a little more comfortable in the man's presence."

The stocky man scratched his head, "The men here call me Engie."

Lyra continued to smile despite the slight annoyance she felt. The man had just given her some grief over her supposedly real name and he went off and gave her some sort of nickname. She made no attempt to express these feelings, for she knew she was not in the position to complain about what these men liked to call themselves. Still smiling, she took a small sip of her coffee, pleasantly surprised with the sweet taste of hot chocolate.

"Do ya mind if I ask why you're here?"

"No, I'm just a traveler who got lost. I never meant to cause you trouble."

The man just smiled at her. Lyra could feel the man's doubt over her tale but didn't seem quite as paranoid about her presence as the other man the night before. "You don't need to lie to me, sweetheart."

"I'm not lying, sir."

"Right, okay," he said, "Frenchie out there thinks you're dangerous. I know you're not, though, but I'll need you to be honest with me so I can help you. I'm going to ask you some questions."

Lyra sat in an uneasy silence. She studied the man's face as she tries to piece together what he could possibly not. It was hard to discern his expressions, however, with the goggles he was wearing. Her heart was beating furiously for she felt some what vulnerable to him as if he knew something about her but he wasn't going to outright say it.

"Okay," she breathed, "What do you need to know?"

He paused for a moment, as if he was hesitant to continue, afraid of what he was doing. With one long breath, he seemed to have found his courage.

"Did you finish high school?"

"Yes," she struggled to say with some confidence. It was not entirely a lie, she had completed everything important in high school but the situation with her father kept her from officially graduating. The question forced her to mull over some difficult memories, although she tried not to resent the man too much anymore for she knew better than to act like she played no role in how her relationship with her father developed.

"And no college, I presume?" Engie continued on, not seeming to notice or care about her hesitance to the first question.

"Correct," she replied, although slightly insulted he'd assume that for a multitude of reasons.

Methodically, Engie shuffled through his papers again, pausing every moment as he poured over anything that seemed to catch his attention through an expression stare.

"How fast of a learner are you?"

"I guess I can pick things up fairly quickly," she said in attempts to not come across as too arrogant but showing that she was trying to comply with whatever he was trying to do.

The man opened one of the desk drawers and produced a complex array of objects. He rose from his chair and placed them in front of her. "These are some things professionals use to test peoples' IQ. These will gauge your ability to efficiently put things together."

He retreated to his chair again and pulled out a stopwatch from his overalls. "You may begin," he said just before the device made a little beep sound, signifying she was on the clock.

The puzzle pieces were a bit bewildering to Lyra. They were small wooden blocks cut in a variety of odd shapes, and it took her a while of looking over them to realize they were meant to fit together into some sort of cube. Hastily, she turned over each piece to try and quickly determine how they'd fit together. She wasn't exactly sure why the man was having her do this but she knew her life was likely dependent on it. Time felt like it was dragging on heavily but quickly as she struggled to bring the pieces all together.

"Take your time," Engie said in a soothing tone. Lyra took a deep breath and paused in her work to size up the pieces laid before her. She let her anxiety pass over her as she quietly stared over the odd shapes and took the man's words to heart. Eventually, her hands begun working again, methodically pressing the blocks together, rotating them in every which way she could to see if they'd fit together. Her heart felt heavier as she felt the minutes tick on. It was hard to tell what the man was thinking with his eyes trapped behind his goggles, but she felt as if she was disappointing him with every failed attempt to put the things together. Living as a wanderer did mean Lyra had to have been ingenuitive to survive, but she wasn't exactly good at doing things under pressure. She continued on, knowing she must finish no matter what. In her head, time was slipping by as she struggled to solve the puzzle but she found assurance in the steady progress she made. Eventually, all the pieces fit together; however, she was uncertain how long she'd been working to solve it and looked desperately at the man to see what he thought. Beep Beep! The stop watch went off and the man merely stared at it for a moment. Lyra felt it may have been disappointment and judgment was being cast upon her at that moment but eventually, the man nodded to himself.

"I can work with that," he murmured. He looked up at her with a slight smile, "Thank you for your cooperation, darlin'."

He stirred in his chair as he gathered some of the papers on his desk. He stared over the documents one more time, and let out a seemingly nervous sigh. "Alright, I think there's something I can do for you. Someone's coming to speak with you about all this but I think I can settle somethi-"

Before he could finish what he was saying the door was gently pushed open. The man became rigid and his smile faded almost immediately. Lyra sat up a little straighter to catch a glimpse of who was there, surprised to see a shy looking woman in a purple dress standing in the doorway. An aura of elegance and grace hung about her that left Lyra both mystified and intimidated. In graceful motions, the woman moved forward into the room with her heels click clack-ing against the concrete floor. She stopped just behind the little creature that Engie had called "Pyro" where she seemed to size up the scene before her with a flawlessly sincere smile.

"So this is the little trouble maker?" she asked with a small charming laugh. She turned her attention to Engie and Pyro, and addressed them in a slightly more serious tone, "And what are you two doing in here?"

The stocky man stirred uncomfortably in his chair again, "Ah, Miss Pauling! That's just what I wanted to have to have a word with you about."

The woman gave him a confused look, "A word with me about what?"

"I'll tell you in - ah - private," Engie was gesturing toward Lyra. The woman seemed to understand but her charming composure was beginning to dwindle away with some annoyance. She turned her attention back to Lyra and addressed her in a polite and light tone:

"Do you mind stepping outside, sweetheart?"

"Ah, no-" Lyra responded shyly. She quietly slipped out of her sleeping bag and begun walking toward the door. Lyra avoided making eye contact with Miss Pauling. She wasn't typically vain but meeting a woman so refined while being dirty and unkempt was sort of embarrassing. The woman followed her to the door, seeming to be careful not to stand too close. She opened the door timidly to see Scout sitting solemnly on the ground and the masked man from last night standing beside him. The two exchanged curious looks at each other as Lyra stepped into the hallway.

"Will you keep an eye on her, Spy?" Miss Pauling spoke with a soft but commanding voice.

"Of course, Mademoiselle," the masked man replied politely. He eyed Lyra with some indifference now, seeming to not exert his energy worrying about something that was now out of his hands. Lyra felt some nervousness being left with him, even with Scout nearby, who also seemed to be avoiding her gaze. Miss Pauling cared very little about her comfort, however, for she slammed the door behind her and went off to discuss her fate.

Once again, sorry for the wait! I wanted to post a longer chapter but I had a hard time organizing the second half and I didn't want to keep people waiting for so long. The next chapter should be out in about month since I will hopefully have a little more done time in the coming weeks. I hope everyone is having a good summer and thank you for your patience.