"We should be safe here for a while," Sasha told the apprehensive looking children. "So make yourselves at home, but be sure to keep a bag packed just in case." She gestured at their non- existent luggage. "If you need me, I'll be downstairs."

"For a while?" Paula asked the space Sasha had occupied a moment before. "Define 'a while.'"

"I don't care," Paul announced, flopping onto the sofa that dominated a side of the room the scientist had led them to. "As long as they buy pizza."

"We are on the run from what are, perhaps, the most dangerous people alive and you want pizza," she admonished.

"With stuffed crust. And maybe some ketchup. And if we do get caught we can do that weird thing we did in the fire. I think."

"You put pizza in tomato ketchup? Quite frankly, that is revolting."

"Don't knock it 'till you try it."

"Are you sure you're my brother?"

"Your twin, in fact."

"I deserve a reward."

"I think you do."

"Kids!" Steve yelled from below, "come here!"

Somewhat reluctantly, they trudged down the cold, bare metal steps; was rest too much to ask for? Or, for that matter, was colour? The safehouse was quite a depressing sight to behold. The exterior suggested that this was once an average house, but it was now derelict and just plain. The walls were made of solid white brick (which was actually, upon further inspection, extraordinarily thick titanium), the door was grey and the garden had been ripped up long ago. If it weren't for the overhanging branches if the house next door's trees, it would be like stepping into a black and white film. The interior was just as boring with exception of the peculiar weapons lining the wall and the body armour hanging from the back of the door. There was enough for a small army.

"As you will have figured, this is only a temporary solution," Steve began, "We will either find a better alternate solution or this place will be compromised. In case of the latter event, you need to be able to defend yourselves and we need to know can, just because it's nice to know. So I suggest-"

Sasha cut him off. "What he means is: we know you are able to look after yourselves due to your- admittedly limited- training at the Glasshouse but we need to assess how well. Have they taught you to shoot?"

"No," the twins replied in perfect unison.

"Have they taught you to fight?" Steve enquired.

Before they could reply, Sasha exclaimed, "do you know what the Glasshouse is?"

"I suppose that was a stupid question."

There was a series of almost inaudible prolonged, high- pitched beeps which became more and more insistant by the second. A bomb. The room's occupants looked for it frantically- in Steve, Paul and Paula's cases- and methodically- in Sasha's case.

"You asked the definition of a while," Paul stated, gesturing to the window closest to the door. "It was about five minutes."

The other three spontaneously turned to look in the area he indicated. Sure enough, someone had cut a hole in the bullet- proof glass and dropped the bomb in the room. The bomb that was rolling towards the door...

"Get down!" The adults yelled at the same time.

"Great minds think alike," Sasha muttered.

"Except your mind isn't," Steve objected, earning an ice cold look. She looked as though she was going to make a cutting reply, but she decided against it. That, or she didn't actually have anything to say.

"You three," she instructed. "Go through the back door and wait for me by the nearest McDonald's. Only if you are able to do so unharmed, that is. If not, don't worry- you'll be very easy for me to track under Steve's command."

"What about you?" He asked, ignoring the comment.

"I'll cover our tracks and then I'll join you."

"Stay safe. Who else would I get to argue with 24/ 7 and not get bored?"

"I love you too."

Despite knowing it was a joke, Steve felt himself go a bit red.

"What back-" Paul was rudely cut off by a deafening explosion as the room was filled with thick, black smoke and armed men. "That would be our cue to leave."

With Steve in the lead, the trio moved away from the danger, to the back of the room. He stopped and started tugging at the floor.

"Are you mad?" Paul asked.

"No, I'm trying to open this stupid door. Oh! The key; I completely forgot to unlock it." He slapped his forehead.

"Idiot," Paula muttered.

He produced a large red key from around his neck. Finally, there was some colour in the building!

"Hurry," she urged as the men were slowly advancing despite Sasha's utterly ruthless defence.

"One second..." he replied.

"And that's ten points to Steve for opening a door!" Paul cheered.

"It was designed to let nobody through, I'll have you know." He pointed down the hole in the floor; it's end was out of sight. "Ladies first."

Paula had experienced many scary things in her life, but the trip down the ladder topped the list with ease. It was covered in some slimy stuff she couldn't identify and was sure she didn't want to. Every time she moved, it threatened to send her tumbling into the abyss bellow. As for a safety check, she was certain that those responsible were too cowardly to test the ladder due to its unstableness. The lack of light (as Steve wasn't stupid enough to leave the door wide open) didn't help the situation. "Shit," she muttered as her legs suddenly hit the ground, sending a sudden jolt through her body.

"Left." Steve whispered, aided by echoes.

"It's not like I can go right 'cause of a bloody stone wall."

"Point acqknowledged. Point discarded."

"This stinks," Paul chipped in before things could get ugly. It was true, the maze they found themselves had not been maintained and mould had formed on the stone walls and the air was moist.

"Try not to think about it and you won't notice it." Paula advised.

At the same time: "the smell of your blood as it pools around you in close proximity after you've been fatally wounded would smell much worse, believe me."

"But it wouldn't be fatal, would it?"

"Junction," Paula said. "Which way?"

"Left."

"Left?" She hadn't heard him properly due to being half wrapped in her thoughts.

"Right."

"Right?"

"As in, left is the right way." He sounded impatient. "Keep moving."

"Maybe you should've gone first then."

They navigated their way around the tunnels for what felt like hours. Finally Paula hit a wall, which she was none too pleased about. When she asked Steve why he didn't warn her, he merely shrugged and said she should've been paying more attention.

"Access denied." The voice came from everywhere and nowhere.

"What?" Steve shouted at it as he furiously prodded a section of the wall. "Come on!"

"Access denied."

Pause.

"Access denied."

"Maybe you need to unlock it," Paul suggested cheekily.

"Shut- actually, you have a point."

After a few more seconds, part of the ceiling swung open and the bit of floor they were on started to rise.

"Perception filter." Steve said, not needing to look at their bewildered faces. "They can't see us or this patch of ground."

"It's a good thing they don't go over this apparent hole in the ground." Paul raised his eyebrow sceptically.

"Kids these days." Steve sighed. "You show them something incredible and they argue against its practicality or possibility." He sounded genuinely upset.

"Sorry."

"It's too late." Steve put up a hand and sniffed dramatically.

They arrived level with the rest of the world. Tall buildings looked over them on either side and the pavement was as narrow as it was dirty. And it was horrendous.

"Come on, kids!" Steve said, back to the cheery idiot. "This way!"

"I wonder when Sasha will be joining us." Paula murmered to her brother.

"Hopefully soon." He replied just as quietly.

"I can hear you. Advanced senses, remember."

"How come you get that and we don't." Paul complained.

"When me and Sash... changed, we used an earlier type of that solution. Advanced senses was one of the benefits. The other was speed. Enough to get past the Unnatural's senses."

"Why did you adapt it to become worse, then?"

"Because we want other people unfortunate enough to need it to be as normal as possible."

"McDonald's." Paula said, suddenly stopping.

"We are on the run from what are, perhaps the most dangerous people on Earth, and you want McDonald's." Paul mimicked her.

"Sasha told us to meet her at the nearest McDonald's. There it is."

"So, what would you like?" Steve asked.

"Eh?" Was the reply he got as opposed to a polite 'sorry' or 'excuse me'. Forgive him for asking.

"We may as well have something to eat while we wait. I don't know about you two, but I'm ravenous."

"I'll have chips. And a Big Mac. And everything on their menu, please." Paul requested. He licked his lips, "and we can't forget the ketchup."


"What on Earth is this cheese made of?" Steve exclaimed a bit too loudly as he bit into his cheeseburger. They hadn't payed for the meal- instead, they opted to grab it as the order number was called out. Steal from the rich and give to the poor; they could blame cartoons for their behaviour.

"I think we're being watched," Paul said quietly. "That man purposely didn't look at you making a fuss."

His sister laughed. "You've watched one too many movies, little brother."

"You are only older than me by three minuites, goddamn it."

"Don't you forget it."

"He has a point." Steve objected.

"See. Our age difference is three minuites and irrelevant."

"Not that. The man has quite a few guns. A little suspicious, don't you think."

The man in question strode up to them. "Bitches, that was my order." His voice was more of a growl and had a French accent.

He was tall and muscled and concealed weaponry underneath his beige trench coat. The hood was up and hid most of his face, but he was pale and was in possession of a huge moustache.

"It's a little more than what's needed for one person." Paul informed him.

"And as for you." He pointed at Steve. "I like my cheeseburgers so you've just made me double pissed."

Undeterred, Steve stood up, keeping one had on the tray the food was still on. Meanwhile, a couple of McDonald's workers heard the commotion and moved to intercept. Moustache man saw it and pulled out his gun. "Don't move, motherfuckers!"

"You really shouldn't use such foul language with little kids around." Steve remarked.

"We'll see how much you care about that when you're on your knees and begging for mercy."

"I don't think that'll happen. In fact... See ya!" With that he threw the tray into his face. The three used his momentary distraction to run out of the building.

The man brought his gun and took aim at them but a sudden high- pitched scream caused his had to twitch as he fired.

"Stupides enfants qui pleurent."

[Translation: stupid crying kids]

He tapped his comms. "They've fallen into your trap. All three I saw are alive but one's missing."

"Understood."

Time to enjoy a nice milkshake.


"Who was that?" Paula asked through laboured breaths.

"At a guess, one of Furan's men, although they're normally better than that." Steve said. "Now let me hot wire this vehicle."

"I wasn't exactly stopping you."

The engine roared into life and Steve pulled out into the abnormally light traffic at break- neck speed. "Lights and siren," he instructed. As Paula looked around for them, Paul seemed to know exactly where they were and activated them.

"That was quick," she commented.

"Been in a police car before." He shrugged.

"We've got company." Steve said.

Five other cars broke from the rest and chased after them.

"We're screwed." Paula stated.

"Don't use that tone with me, young lady." Steve snapped. "Optimism is key."

"I dare you to be optimistic about this."

"Well, these five lanes become three when we go through the tunnel. With no time for the left and right two cars to merge lanes, we can say bye- bye."

"I'm fairly sure they can merge."

"Not at this speed. In fact, wave goodbye to our friends in three... two... one."

For once in his life, Steve was right and the two cars on the outside crashed straight into the wall of the tunnel and went up in flames. It was a spectacular sight.

Paula- who was sitting in the back- clung onto the headrests and got on her knees, facing the remaining three cars. She stuck out her tongue and pulled a face. It was just too bad she didn't see the gun. Her eyes widened in shock as the bullet pierced the glass and entered her forehead. Then she collapsed backwards, dead instantly.

"No..." Paul whispered, tears in his eyes. "No, no, no, no, no," he said, silently vowing to kill the man who did this.

"Do you have a gun? Or a grenade? Or something?" He asked.

"I have a gun but-"

"Give it to me." Paul's voice had taken on a dark edge.

"Don't let them make you a killer."

"Give it to me. Now."

Steve didn't bother arguing. Their safety was more important. Paul took the gun roughly and climbed to the back seats, closing Paula's eyelids and kissing her cheek on the way. He struggled to keep the tears at bay, but he had to- there was revenge to be taken. He took a deep breath and took aim. He looked directly into the driver's eyes and smiled as he died. It took only a few seconds. The pursuing car lost control and smashed into the left one. One to go. He took aim again, but the other man beat him to it. The car started spinning as one of the wheels was hit. However, the hostile force exploded as the car behind it threw in a grenade. Sasha had arrived.

Arrived too late.

Steve brought the vehicle under control and stopped it. The two exited the police car. Sasha approached. "Where's-" she started.

"Don't." Paul snapped. "Do not say her name. You are the reason she's dead- first with the pathetic security of the safehouse, then by making us wait in a public place and then by showing up too late." He furiously wiped the tears off his face.

"Where's Paula?" Sasha continued anyway. Her voice sounded different but Paul found he didn't care why.

"There." He said bitterly as he pointed to the car.

"I'll help you get her out." Steve offered.

The adults entered at opposite doors and knowing they were out of sight and earshot, Steve put his hand over hers.

"It wasn't your fault."

"It is. It always is."

"I know you're thinking of your dad." Steve said. "And I also know he would tell you that it was those stupid pigeons fault even if you fired the gun yourself."

Sasha chuckled. "Yeah, he would." She reached to check Paula's pulse.

"She alive yet?" Steve asked.

"Just. Now, you take the legs."

After they managed to manoeuvre her out the car, she regained her consciousness.

"What-" she began hoarsely.

"Paul." Steve shouted. "Come here."

"What?" He said sharply as he made his was over. But then he saw his sister and the coldness was gone. Steve and Sasha allowed the kids a few moments before the latter announced that they should leave.

"Where to now?" Paula asked, her voice regaining some strength.

"Good question." Sasha replied.

"We could go to that bar." Steve suggested.

"Sounds good enough for now."

They arrived at about ten pm. The bar was fairly large and entirely abandoned.

"Stairs are through there," Steve told the children. "Turn left and there are only two rooms, so I'm afraid you're going to have to share. Bathroom's up the stairs too but turn right."

As the two left to get their well earned rest, Steve turned to Sasha. "Back at the safe house..." He trailed off.

"Back at the safehouse?"

"Nevermind. Go rest. Those were a lot of men you have to fight- you're bound to be exhausted."

As she went up to what would be her's and Steve's room, the twins called her.

"Yeah?"

"How do these lives work?" Paula asked.

"If you're injured, you'll heal until you die in your last life. You get three, but Paul's down to two and Paula will die for real next time. Any more questions will have o wait until morning, I'm afraid. Steve knows more about this than I do."

Paula couldn't sleep. Whether it was to do with the day's events or her brother's snoring was beyond her. She sighed softly and resigned herself to being awake. Pulling on her shoes, she made her way into the passage and looked at the room opposite. The lights were out and it was dead silent. Dead... She shook her head; she just needed some fresh air.

The night was dark and cloudy so there was no illumination from the stars. Street lights were too far away to be seen. It reminded her of her demise.

"Hello?" She whispered, just to be sure.

"Hello?" She yelled, frightened, blackness pressing in on all sides. She didn't think her claustrophobia could be so bad. She sank down to her knees- well, she willed her body to but found she couldn't move. "Hello?" She tried again, louder but she still couldn't hear her voice. Something moved- she could feel it. Were they souls? No, they didn't exist. Ghosts? Helplessly, she started to scream as a bright light rushed towards her.

"-take the legs." Someone said. Was she being kidnapped? Oh lord, the last thing she wanted was to be kidnapped.

"Miss?" The man made her jump as she came back to reality. At the time, she hadn't been experiencing death. It was the revival.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

"Sure." To her pleasure, her voice was even and clear.

He smiled in a way that made her slightly uncomfortable. "My name is Ashley, by the way."

"Paul-"

"Paul?" Ashley exclaimed, eyes widening in surprise.

"No, no. Paula, with an 'a'." She laughed, the feeling completely evaporated.

She only went back inside when it was morning.