Huge thanks to ClaritaFox, Sonata Fuling, GlitteryGeekiness. Wildhorseatheart for all the support! LY!

Drake trudged up the path towards Caine's new home. When Drake was appointed Sheriff he expected that to mean he would stay in Perdido Beach. Not waste his time going back Up the Hill with Caine's annoying sister. He knocked loudly on the front door, for it to be opened by Caine.

"Morning," Caine greeted and gestured for Drake to enter. Diana ignored Drake, as she ate her cereal, while next to her Computer Jack squirmed at Drake's presence.

"Where is she?" Drake asked Caine.

"I haven't heard her up, I'll call her." Caine stood at the foot of the stairs and yelled, "Emmy! Are you up?" There was no response so Caine tried again, "EMMY! Get up!"

"I'm up!" she shouted back. Caine sat back down at his breakfast, and listened to Emmy stomp down the stairs. He expected that she would be coming down ready to go. Instead she stood on the bottom on the step still in her pyjamas—a skimpy vest top with shorts.

"What's the problem?" Emmy asked of Caine.

"Why aren't you dressed yet?" Caine demanded.

"Drake's not picking me up for half an hour," Emmy's reply was intermingled with a yawn. She stopped dead on her way to the fridge when she saw Drake was standing there, staring bewildered at her. "Oh, you're early," she said with surprise.

Drake didn't answer immediately—he was too mesmerised. His eyes trailed up her long legs and lingering over her tight ass.

"Drake?" Caine's voice drew him back to where he was. Drake's back was to him, so Caine was merely confused at why Drake wasn't pissed off at being kept waiting. But Emmy knew what was really on his mind.

"Early bird catches the worm, huh?" Emmy's voice had confident slyness to it.

"Yeah," Drake agreed—not sure what she meant—before he remembered that she was the last person on earth that he should be checking out in front of Caine. Except maybe Diana. "Yeah," he repeated, more irritation in his voice now, "so stop fucking keeping me waiting and go put some clothes on, you slut."

"It's just pyjamas!" Emmy protested.

Drake didn't want to look like he had an opinion over her clothing, but Caine did. "You look like a whore! Think of all the guys who'll be coming here to see me, and they'll get an eyeful of your ass. Not happening." Emmy didn't stay for Caine's rant, but went upstairs.

"Didn't have you down for slut-shaming, Caine," Diana piped up, small playful grin across her face. "I thought you…admired girls unafraid to bear some flesh."

Caine's face contorted like he had a bad taste in his mouth. "Not when it comes to my thirteen-year-old sister possibly being the main feature in every creepy loser's fantasies. Seriously, go find a burka her size for me, would you?"

Emmy came back downstairs, wearing a loose t-shirt and jeans. "Sorry, but my habit is at the drycleaners. Will this do?"

"Just get going," Caine said, flicking his wrist in dismissal. Emmy gave him a mock salute and went out the door, followed by Drake.

The driver was still waiting behind the wheel. "Shotgun!" Emmy called.

"Not a chance," Drake grunted, angered that she was testing his boundaries. He couldn't let his confused feelings make him treat her differently. Or, even worse, let her find out about them.

The driver was in no way confident and they had a long silent journey ahead of them. They eventually got to the iron gates; which dutifully swung open for them. "Umm, why are we here?" the driver asked Drake.

Drake kept staring out the window. "Is that any of your business?" The guy didn't ask any further questions, just giving a fleeting look to Emmy in the mirror.

They arrived at the front of the school. Still pristine and no one would never know that inside all there were prisoners and those with minds twisted enough to keep them prisoner. "Stay in the car," Drake ordered to the driver. He nodded, thankful he wouldn't have to face anything inside. Emmy was sure she even heard the click of the locks on the car.

"We'll go through one of the side doors to avoid the freaks," Drake said. Emmy internally felt offended that; as if he had said a racist slur against her. Drake led the way along the building to a door with a more direct route to the office, which would hold the information they were after.

It was too quiet, like abandoned town quiet. Some lights were on, and Emmy thought she saw figures move behind the window. Inside, there were the sounds of people walking in the distance. But no one in the office. The filing cabinet was already unlocked—somebody (probably Drake) had broken into it the night the adults disappeared.

"So what's the plan?" Drake asked, leaning on the receptionist's desk.

Emmy pulled open the drawer labelled '9th Grade'. "We'll check the records and take note of anyone who'll be fifteen in the next week. We should look at eighth grade as well, in case anyone got held back. Maybe even seventh grade. Wouldn't be surprised if some losers were your age and still in kindergarten at this school." She grabbed some paper from desk and started going through the folders of pupils. Each one had the basic information of date of birth, allergies and health report. Though, some were bulked up with detailed reasons for being sent to Coates, reports from psychologists and criminal records.

"Drake," someone called from the corridor. Benno, the kid Caine left in charge, came through the door. He stared with confusion at Drake, and then at Emmy. "I saw you guys come. What are you doing here?"

"What's it to you?" Drake demanded.

Benno didn't have an answer, but backed cautiously away. "Tell Caine thanks for sending up the food," Benno said. The townies had been told some at Coates were too scared to come to town, and had chosen to wait for a while in the school, so food was sent up to them.

Drake didn't acknowledge that. "I'm going to have a look around this place," he said as he stomped out, Benno behind him. "Shout when you're finished." So Emmy was left to do the work herself. Great.

Emmy tried to go through everyone's file as quickly as possible, writing down the birthday of every ninth grader that was still around. She tried not to get side-lined by curiosity as to what was wrong with each person—if the place wasn't so destitute she'd have come back to read over each one at length. She even checked the seventh and eighth grade files. The only one before Caine was Andrew—18th November. The next one was Benno three days after Caine's own. They needed a tester to see if anything would happen when you turned fifteen. If anything did, then more to be testers to see if it was preventable. This wasn't enough. Caine had to stay here, with her. With him gone, anyone who he'd put down would surely come for her, especially Drake. What would he do to her without Caine to stop him? The thought made her feel physically sick and she wasn't going to let any of that become a reality. She shoved the files roughly back into place.

"Drake, let's go!" Drake didn't answer, so she walked along the corridor towards the main entrance. "Drake! Where are you?" She called his name, going further along the hallway, getting more nervous. She didn't know who would be along these corridors. One of those messed-up bullies she could handle, but not…

She heard the sound of Drake's laugh bounce of the walls; the laugh he used to show pleasure at others' pain. Emmy guessed what had made him so delighted. She steadied herself to walk towards it and face it. They were hunched down like apes, dragging their cement. The smell was foul; she presumed none were washed.

"Hey," Drake greeted her with his shark-grin. "Look what Benno's showing me." Benno was a thug, but even he was horrified at Drake's glee.

Emmy avoided eye contact with them all. "I'm done; we need to go."

"Hold on," Drake said, enjoying Emmy's discomfort. These things had 'powers' but he was he had so much real power above him. It was wonderful. Really, Caine was just one cement block away from being nothing to Drake. That's all it would take.

"Emmy," one of them called her name. She was Dekka. The pleading in her eyes didn't belong to someone who always appeared so confident and determined. Emmy was transfixed by her, lost into a sea of misery, which extended around the room and outside. "They're barely feeding us," Dekka said with a hoarse voice. Others cried out to her with similar pleads.

"They get plenty food," Benno argued.

"Whatever," Drake snapped. "When's the first one?" Drake addressed the question to Emmy.

"Uh, in a few days. It's Andrew."

"What?" Benno asked.

"Doesn't matter," Drake said quickly. "Just tell Andrew to expect visitors on his birthday. Get a cake. Let's go, Soren."

Drake and Emmy went outside. "Is Andrew the only one?" Drake asked.

"Yeah, Caine won't be satisfied with that. Perhaps we should go to the town's school and get their records."

Drake groaned.

"Caine's just going to send you there anyway after we tell him all this." He nodded in begrudging agreement.

"Hold up," Drake said when Emmy finished the last of the school's steps.

Emmy swivelled round. "What?"

"I got something funny to tell you." Drake had that same grin.

"I doubt our definitions of 'funny' are the same, so don't bother," Emmy said.

"Max is dead."

Emmy's mouth fell wide open. "Dead?" she whispered. He couldn't be dead; yeah, Drake had beat him up pretty bad but, he couldn't be dead. "Dead?" Emmy repeated, louder but still soft enough for the driver to be oblivious to it. "How?"

"They think he had internal bleeding, or shit," Drake said casually. "He died yesterday."

Emmy's stomach twisted and she felt something rise up from her throat, threatening to explode out her, but she forced it to stay down. "What did they do with…the body?"

"Put it a bin liner and buried it near the trees. Benno said they could have done with your brother—he was a heavy lump." Drake finished with a malicious laugh. He stopped when he caught the cold stare of Emmy. "What? Don't say you're sorry for the guy. He hated you, and I thought you hated him."

"I know," Emmy agreed, still keeping her voice low. "Though I'm not going to do a song and dance over someone dying. He was an asshole, but he didn't deserve to die." Emmy didn't feels tears; she wasn't going to cry over someone like Max. Yet the numbness that she did have made her voice quiver, which amused Drake, and he sniggered at her.

"You killed someone!" she accused. She cast a glance to a driver, but though he was staring straight at them there was no sign he heard that.

There was no trace of guilt within Drake. His first kill; not someone that he had longed to kill, and not eloquently with a gun. But a person was still dead thanks to him. It made him feel proud of himself. That made Emmy appalled by him.

"What do you think those from the town will think when they hear someone died up here because of you?" Emmy asked. "Orc and his cronies are just low-level thugs, interested in getting booze and bossing others about. They wouldn't think this is 'funny'. Or, Sam? The noble hero who they're all fawning over—"

"Including you?" Drake snapped, a nerve had been hit. He didn't know why. Caine didn't like it when Diana had pointed out how cute Sam was, and now Drake felt the same way. "What, you have a little crush on Sam? Is that it?"

Emmy rolled her eyes at his pettiness. "Oh please. I'm just saying do you think Sam will happily let you be the Sheriff after this? And all those kids want a leader, and Sam looks like a far better one compared to anyone associated with you."

"It doesn't matter what anyone in that stupid town thinks of this. Because they'll never find out. Who's going to tell them? No one still at the school, because they either can't escape or they know that they'll be next if they leave their post. I'm not going to tell anyone, in case they run their mouth off. Are you? Tell everyone, so they try and get rid of Caine. Big brother ain't going to keep babysitting you if you're the reason he got kicked out of that nice office." Emmy was deflated; the psychopath was right. "Besides, if it weren't for you I wouldn't have had to intervene. If you want someone to blame, maybe take a look at yourself."

Drake walked away from her, leaving her to absorb his words. If she had just held her tongue and walked away when they let that girl go. Her eyes wandered toward the line of trees, where she estimated Max to be.

"C'mon!" Drake ordered. Emmy took a final look at the school, praying that it would be the last time she'd ever have to see it, and went to the car.

"You're dropping me off at the town hall," Drake told the driver, "and driving Emmy to the school. Stay with her until she's finished what she's doing there."

Emmy took a deep breath and tried to focus the boring landscape, rather than Drake's sadistic thoughts, the driver's curiosity at what was going on, or her own thoughts. She wasn't the one who had killed Max. And she would not bear the guilt.