D/C: I own nothing. Not even Devon Sawa... damn. (Say-wha? Hehe, inside joke.)
I remember it vividly: lying there on the ground, Carter staring at me, saying, "Who's next?" with the sign swinging down behind him. I clenched my eyes shut, and the next thing I knew, the sign was swooshing over my head and landing about a foot away. Clear was on the ground, having tackled Carter, who was bruised up, yet alive. We were all alive. It was amazing. So who was next now?
You'd think the hospital would be safe. That's where we were after that incident. My limited knowledge of French didn't help much in understanding the doctors who were looking over all three of us. I could tell though, that they wanted us to stay overnight. Clear sighed and Carter just gave both of us strange looks. He might as well have been unconscious, he was so stupified. Clear had knocked him over pretty hard. She was next, and she knew it. She looked at me with fear in her eyes.
"Alex... I'm next..." she whispered.
I swallowed really hard. I couldn't admit it. I couldn't admit that she was next, I couldn't admit that I really loved her. It killed me. We sat in the hospital room, next to Carter's bed as he slept, and it was just too quiet. I wanted to go home, get out of France, away from the Plan. I knew none of that could happen. We had to wait until Carter was well enough to travel, and even then we would never escape the Plan... I held Clear's hand and bit my lower lip. "We'll beat it," I told her. "I promise. We'll beat it."
To Be Continued... or, in the words of logan, Not The End...
A/N: Ideas? Really long comments that you'd rather not put in the review? E-mail me, kari