I wasn't sure how long we'd been trudging through the thick and vasr forestry yet.
I was still perched on Zeeke's back, arms slung over his shoulders as he ducked and weaved through the vast flora.
It was long enough he should of dropped me hours ago. The night sky wasn't as dark as it had been before and the stars where starting to disappear.
I knew it was late when he dragged me out of bed, but judging from the sky that had to have been more than three or fours hours ago.
The car chase hadn't been that long, although it was quite bumpy.
Had he been carrying me for the past two or three hours?
"Zeeke," I was the first to speak since he offered to carry me.
"Yes?"
"How long have we been walking?"
"Two hours." He answered softly.
It hasn't taken me long to figure out he wasn't the very talkative type. I pinned it on his shy demeanour and didn't take it personally.
I wanted to press for further details but I knew I would get the same sort answers.
"Will Rex be okay?" It had been so long since we'd seen him.
"He always is," Zeeke brushes the question off.
Zeeke didn't seem that worried, but I was beginning to doubt this guy had any emotions.
He didn't flinch when bullets where flying towards us. He didn't jump when Rex showed up out of nowhere, banging on the car door.
The only time I've seen him fidgety is when he's forced to talk to me.
Was I making him uncomfortable? I had accused him of kidnapping and stalking.
"Do I make you uncomfortable?" Asking him outright was the only way I was going to get any answers.
"No."
"Have you ever had a full conversation with someone?"
"Shh," He hushes me.
"What?" I demand.
"Nora, be quiet," he whisper yells.
I sense the tense air around him and bite my lip to stop myself from asking him what's wrong.
He carefully sets me on the ground and pulls a knife out of his boot.
On closer inspection I realised he was wearing military grade hiking boots.
I stood in silence, now was not the right time to bombard him with questions.
I listened to the sound of rustling and heavy footsteps.
Zeeke pushes him behind me and held the knife out towards the noise.
"Ace?!"
"Nora?!" A tall boy with dark orange hair and pale blue eyes stares at me with shock.
"You know him?" Zeeke asks me, disbelief all over his face.
"He's my ex-boyfriend," I barely believe it myself.
I gave Ace a quick once over. Instead of uniform and a tie, he was sporting camouflage gear.
He had dark green googles sitting on his head, pushing his normally casual hair back in a more formal and combat ready style.
His face was scratched up, and those warm familiar eyes where giving me a cold stare.
Ace took a few rushed steps forward and made a grab for my arm.
He was stopped short, as the tip of Zeeke's blade pressed against his throat.
"Don't." Zeeke had lowered his voice, giving the threat in a deep, authoritative tone.
"Nora, reach into my back pocket, grab my phone out," Zeeke ordered.
He didn't move the blade from Ace's neck and Ace didn't dare take a step forwards or back.
I put my hand into the back pocket of Zeeke's pants and pulled out a black phone.
Everything this guy owns is black. Even his hair is black.
"Press the red button," he instructs.
I notice a small red button on the side, and press it in as instructed.
"You're not going to hurt him are you?" I ask, concerned.
Ace and I had not parted on the best of terms, and while I'd often wished I'd never met him he didn't deserve to die.
Zeeke doesn't take his eyes of Ace, but he does give a heavy sigh.
"Nora, he's one of the people we're running from," Zeeke spoke to me the way he did before we ran into Ace.
Softly, with genuine concern, empathy and emotion. I liked Zeeke's real voice. The scary one he adopted while speaking to Ace didn't suit him. It was to dark, menacing and demanding.
"Nora," Ace begins "I know your confused, you have to let me explain".
"Quiet." Zeeke demands.
"I'll do the talking," a cocky voice calls out, breaking the tense air.
I turn around to see Rex, swinging Zeeke's keys around his finger. A smirk played across his lips.
Ace gulps, his eyes darting between the two.
The tension rose as Rex and Ace made eye contact. The air was thick with conflicting emotions.
A darker version of Rex made itself present. His cocky smile twisted into an angry, harsh expression of pure hatred.
He's playful hazel eyes became stone cold.
"Where is he?" Rex asked outright.
Much like Zeeke he'd dropped his voice down. His playful, flirty voice all but gone.
"On his way," A fire danced in Ace's eye, a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
Zeeke was quick to wipe the arrogant look off his face. He pressed the blade into the soft tissue of Ace's neck, just enough to draw blood.
"I told you not to speak," Zeeke says darkly.
I begin to feel lost. I don't know who to side with. I don't know what's going on. I stay behind Zeeke, not sure if I can trust Ace.
Rex began to rake his hands through his hair, obviously stressed.
"Can we just kill him?" Rex asked, his dark demeanour gone, but his happy self not back.
"You know we're not allowed to," Zeeke answers cooly, as if it's all that's stopping him.
A softer, light footed rustling came from the trees.
"Rex?" A voice called out, as though it didn't believe what it was seeing.
"Hey there, Mikey." Rex throws a weak smile his way.
"Don't call me that," The boy responds coldly.
He looked to be about my age. His blond hair stood out in contrast against the dark environment.
His chocolate brown eyes swirled with emotion.
He was conflicted.
The four boys stared each other down.
Rex had a desperate look in his eyes, a silent plea he sent to blond boy.
Zeeke's eyes remained hard and unforgiving as he glares into Ace's soul.
I let out a deep breath I didn't know I was holding.
The blond boy followed suit. He pulled a gun out of his pocket, and pointed it at Zeeke.
"Drop the knife," he demanded.
"No."
I stared at Zeeke in disbelief, did he have a death wish.
"I'm really sorry," the blond boy said to me.
He turned the gun on me, I shuffled further behind Zeeke. The small voice in the back of my head screamed at me for using Zeeke as a shield, but my own terror got in the way and I ignored it.
"Drop the knife," he repeated.