I Never Told a Lie, and That Makes Me a Liar

Sooner than I thought we would, we reached the end of the tunnel. Though I had been afraid before, being afraid now was something completely different, if that even made sense. It used to be, if I went into trouble, I only had to worry about me. I'd do what I had to do to get out of there and not give a fuck about anyone else. Now, I had Zack. I wasn't afraid for myself. I was afraid for him.

"Are you ready?" Zack asked in a quiet voice, switching off his flashlight and grabbing my hand. I gulped, switching off my own flashlight and squeezing his hand with my other.

"Not especially," I mumbled, "But we have to do this."

"For all we know, there could be nothing on the other side," he mentioned airily. I nodded slowly, knowing full well it'd be foolish to think so.

"Maybe," I muttered. He sighed heavily, tugging me slightly to face him in the dark.

"We'll be okay, Wendy. We will," he assured, "I promise." I couldn't help but smile at that. I shoved my flashlight into my sweatshirt pocket and reached up to touch his face and I could feel it respond to my touch, breaking into its own smile.

"You shouldn't make promises you can't keep, you know," I told him. He chuckled a little.

"I know I can keep this one," he said, "Just have a little faith in me, alright?" I tugged my other hand out of his, putting that one on his face as well. I pulled him down and pushed myself up on my tipy-toes, meeting him halfway and kissing him with all of my might. I stayed like that as long as I could hold myself up for, with the help of his arms that had found their way around my waist, but the kiss couldn't go on forever. Eventually, I pulled away and stood flat on my feet.

"What was that for?" he panted, pulling me closer to him.

"Good luck," I sighed, leaning my head against him for a moment before I wiggled my way out completely. "Now come on, we have to get out of here before it's too late."

Zack led the way out of the the tunnel. From there, we headed up a flight of stairs and out a cellar door. I was afraid, he wouldn't let me take the lead out of that door, and I was afraid of what was on the other side. Not for me, but for him. I was afraid for him.

I didn't get a good enough look at where we were before it all started. I knew daylight was breaking and that we were near the beach (I could hear seagulls) and then I was being tugged along by Zack. There was screaming coming from seemingly everywhere and...gunfire. There was a rush to get something, to stop something and for us, to get away. It was all streaming into a blur. Zack pulled me towards the water, sprinting as fast as he could. Yet, there was something wrong in the way he was moving and he was making a hissing noise every couple seconds. Something was wrong.

Once we were under the shelter of what I assumed to be crates they used on cargo ships, what had to be forever away from that cellar door, Zack stopped and slumped against the nearest container and I could get a good look at him. He was clutching his side with both of his hands and there was blood.

"Zack!" I gasped, stooping down to do something, anything to help him. He had gotten shot, that had to be it. It was my fault.

"Wendy," he hissed and his voice was dripping with the pain he was sure to be in right then. "Wendy, get out of here." I shook my head quickly, feeling my eyes well up with tears. I leaned my forehead against his, sniffling.

"No, Zack. I'm not leaving you," I told him. "I wouldn't dream of it." This was my fault. There had to be some way to make it right.

"Don't be stupid," he said. "You have to get out of here. Keep running. I don't...I don't know where to go...but just keep running." I shook my head, tears falling freely down my face now.

"No," I said again, "They'll kill you, Zack. I'm not leaving you. We're going to be okay. You promised me it'd be okay." He chuckled a little, pushing his forehead back against mine.

"You're right," he sighed, "I shouldn't make promises that I can't keep. Now get out of here, Wendy. And keep running. I'm as good as dead anyway. No sense in the both of us dying." I sniffled, shutting my eyes tightly.

"I'm so sorry," I told him. "So sorry." I kissed him, hard. One final kiss. All too soon, I pulled away and he gave me a weak smile.

"Now go," he said quietly. Talking was beginning to be too much effort for him. I nodded, wiping my eyes.

"So sorry." I stood up, gave him one last look before I headed off in the direction we had come in. If they were going to kill Zack, I was going to kill them. Every. Last. One.

It didn't take long to find a pair, guns drawn and peering around corners of containers. I positioned myself behind the nearest one, readying myself to attack. I hadn't ever been the strongest or the most well trained, but I could disarm a man. Sure enough, when the one I had been expecting to turned the corner to see me looking at him, I grabbed his arm in one hand, put my other over his mouth and knee-ed him in the groin. He doubled over in pain and I whirled him around to slam into the contain wall, which he hit head on with an almighty bang. I grabbed the gun from him as it fell to the ground, casting him aside.

"Now where are you?" I mumbled, readying myself for the other man that had been there. Not long until he turned the corner. I smirked as a shocked face played his features, aimed and bang! He fell to the ground, a bullet now lodged somewhere in his chest. I turned to the other guy whom I had stolen the gun from and shot him for good measure. I wasn't Jayden. I didn't make mistakes.

To be honest, I was always against violence. I hated my family. I hated everything about this stupid war. It was just something I was born into. But now? Now it was personal. They had killed Zack and I'd push my feelings about violence aside because I had a job to do. And that job was to kill Jayden and every last one of his men here. They would pay for what they did if it was the last thing I ever did myself.