Chapter Five:

Chapter Five: Thoughts

(Ionnae POV)

Running.

The destination matters not. The success matters not. All that matters is that I not turn around, never go back.

At this moment in time the meaning of my pathetic existence is gone. They're safe. That's all that matters. That's the whole point.

No. There is one other thing.

The key to everything is in my hand.

I will use it. I will ensure that Rob and Ray stay safe. No matter what I will find a way.

The trees around me fade and I am running barefoot over gravel. I skid to a stop at the top of a massive cliff.

I smile sadistically to myself and kick some rocks over the side.

Ah, irony.

I turn slowly as Rex and his buddies emerge from the trees.

"Hi Rex." I say sweetly.

Rex looks startled for a moment but then extends his hand to me, "Come on now, broken angel." He says, "It's a dead end."

I laugh and scoot backward so that my heels hang over the edge of the cliff, "Says who?"

Rex notices the movement, sees the plan, and takes a step forward, "Come on now, nothing rash."

"Oh, no." I say innocently, "Nothing rash." It's not rash if it's thought out, "But you want to know what I am going to do?" I spread my arms wide. Rex lunges forward to try to stop me but is too slow, "FLY!" I shout and let myself fall backward over the cliff.

The wind rushes past and for the first time I feel what it might be like to fly.

I have a plan. Something I've been practicing.

I will show them all. Prove them all wrong.

I don't need—

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

My eyes snapped open and I nearly fell out the tree I'd perched in and almost lost my atlas over the edge.

BEEP! BEPP! BEEP!

I fumbled with the buttons on my watch until I managed to shut off the alarm. Six o' clock. I shoved my atlas into my backpack and stood holding a branch above my head for balance as I looked through the trees to the setting sun. Not much longer.

I climbed carefully down from the tree pulling my atlas back out and trying, once again, to find Bitter Hill Nebraska.

Who would name a town 'Bitter Hill' anyway? I suppose that 'Tombstone Arizona' is just as strange… but that's actually on a map. Why did the populace of the town vanish the minute the Erasers popped up? Was the town just a set up to lure in unsuspecting bird kids who didn't want to go to big cities? Was that why it wasn't on a map? It didn't actually exist?

Ugh. This is why I can't find it on the stupid map. I can't focus long enough to actually look.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

WHAT? I looked down at my watch in disbelief. The second alarm was set for eight o' clock. I'd zoned out for two freaking hours! I shut off the alarm and kept walking. Curse these long summer days.

My foot hit something. I heard a yelp as I stumbled forward straight into what looked like a makeshift campsite.

It's generally not a good thing when you randomly fall into random campsites. But nothing's random and everything is connected and everything has a meaning and a purpose and cause and effect and all that mumbo jumbo.

I'm here because I tripped and I tripped because I zoned out while walking and I zoned out while walking because there's something wrong with the wiring of my brain that seems to make it impossible for me to focus and there's something wrong with the wiring of my brain that makes it nearly impossible for me to focus because I had a bunch of wacko scientists messing with my genes before I was born and I had a bunch of crazy scientist messing with my genes before I was born because… because… heck! I don't freaking know what was going on in their heads! I hardly know what's going on in my head! What're you asking me for?

Someone snapped their fingers in front of my face and my mind snapped back into focus, "Hi." Was the first thing that popped into my head and I have no clue as to why I actually said it.

"Who are you?" That Max girl was standing about a foot from my face and her friends were behind her.

What did Rex want with her and her friends anyway? Having friends would be nice. Better then trekking through the continental US by myself, trying, and failing, to think of a plan by myself, and, you know, pretty much everything is better when you're not by yourself.

Someone snapped their fingers again, "I'm sorry but… what was the question?"

Anybody else frustrated with my pathedic update rate? Probably all of you. If it makes any of you feel better, I feel like crap everytime I think about how long it takes me to write. I sat with my laptop on my lap for nearly six hours once and only managed to write two paragraphs.

So I will now apologize, once again, for my pathedicness and thank all of you still bothering to read my story.

Thanks.

-Ebony