Fallon crumpled beneath Nathan’s feet, slumping to the ground in a bloody mess. Nathan’s chest heaved in great big breaths, pulling the air into his lungs forcefully. His vision was blurry. Something like a smudge zipped out from the mess below him and darted off into the shadows.

Something moved behind him. Nathan spun, his flames swirling around his fist, and aimed a strike at his assailant's face. Then he froze.

Arnold. It was Arnold. The flames – just inches from his face – highlighted his features in a pale green. Shaved head, full beard, mouth yelling, arms reaching out to grab Nathan by the shoulders.

Not an enemy.

“What…” Nathan muttered, dazed.

“I said, come on! We’re getting out of here!” Arnold gripped hard around his bicep, dragging him away from the bloody mess that was Fallon. Behind Arnold, David was sitting on the ground, one hand groggily scratching at his head, as if he’d just woken up from a deep nap. “We’ve done it! No use in staying around here to admire the scenery!”

Nathan was pulled away, stumbling over his own legs. He soon found his footing and was running across the hall with Arnold toward David. His hand hurt something awful, pain stabbing through it like a red hot knife.

Arnold hauled David to his feet. The kid was no longer trying to kill them, but he didn’t look to be in that great of shape.

His skin was pale and drenched in sweat, hair matted down to his forehead in wet clumps. His eyes were puffy and bloodshot, and he squeezed them open and shut as if there was something stuck in them.

Together, they sprinted out the doorway, charging up stairs and down halls.

“Dammit,” Nathan whispered to himself as he ran. He clenched his eyes shut.

***

David gasped. His mind was thicker than ever. A heavy pounding in his head and numbness across his skin made it hard to concentrate. Like a heavy fog had wrapped itself around his brain and was only now beginning to burn away. There had been so many sounds around him – fighting, yelling, now running.

Why did they have to run? His legs hurt. He just wanted to sleep. Yes, a nap would do him good. Now if only he could find a nice, dark place to rest.

“Keep moving,” someone grunted at him, grabbing his shoulder and hauling him forward, almost causing him to stumble. He caught himself against a wall and kept moving. It didn’t look like there would be a nap anytime soon.

Dim lights passed by as they ran. Some from small candles and lamps set against the walls, others peeking in from cracked windows, the first lights of dawn. What time was it? He didn’t like it. Too bright.

His legs burnt, his lungs burnt, his eyes burnt. Just one foot in front of the other, he stumbled his way. So tired.

He couldn’t remember much of what had been going on. Bits of memories came in like jumbled puzzle pieces – he didn’t know where they fit into the timeline of his night. A sensation of pain, of anger, the feeling of someone hitting him, hatred, the image of a pale man, sounds of feet hitting stone. It was a mess.

David fell against the wall, leaning against it with his shoulder, taking gulping breaths. His uncle was here. Why was he here? And so were the two new people, Nathan and Cleo. Had they come for him?

They were all speaking, but the words were numb to David. Too much of a ringing in his ears to make out anything. He should be at home, in bed. A nice, dark bed.

David crouched against the plush carpet for a moment, unable to stand, unable to figure out how he wasn’t dead. It had felt like he’d died. He felt so tired. So tired. Then there was a strong hand pulling him back to his feet. David grunted and groaned in pain.

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“Can’t rest yet.” Nathan was pulling him up, staring at him. Blood trickled down the man’s face. He looked as rough as David felt. “More could be here soon, and we’re all about tapped out.”

Gods, Nathan was intimidating. He couldn’t be much older than David – maybe four years at the most – but he carried himself with so much confidence. The man seemed to know so little, yet he took to everything like a fish to water. But there was no denying something that brimmed just beneath his surface. Like a great beast swimming underneath calm water.

So this is the reason that I’m still alive. David gulped audibly, looking at Nathan’s hard eyes. He’s the reason I’m still alive.

“Thank… you,” David managed to whisper.

“Not the time for thanks.” Nathan was shoving David forward, out of the building and into the budding morning light. They stumbled into the courtyard, feet crunching on fallen leaves.

The sunrise was beautiful. Sprays of oranges, golds, and purples lighting up the sky, stretching outward into a canvas of blue. Birds sung in the air, heralding the coming day. Lances of sunlight streaked down, illuminating everything. The rays touched David’s skin like a gentle kiss.

A gentle kiss that soon turned to agony.

***

Behind him, David fell to the ground, screaming. Nathan turned to see Arnold catching the boy before he hit the ground. It was not a pretty sight.

David slumped in Arnold’s arms, writhing and coughing, bits of his skin turning black as if burning. Thin wisps of smoke trailed off his arms and face.

“No!” Arnold bellowed, cradling his nephew. “Curse you, Fallon! We need to get him out of the light.”

Nathan ran back toward the two, pulling off the black cloak that he had stolen from the corpse a while back. It was littered with holes and cuts now, but it was better than nothing. “This should help,” he said, wrapping it around the smoking lad.

It had an immediate effect. Once out of the direct sunlight, the pain in David’s face eased. Like he’d been on fire and just jumped into a pool.

“What’s happening to me?” David croaked.

“Get him up and moving,” Cleo ordered, loading a bolt into her crossbow.

She didn’t look to be in much better shape than Nathan. There was blood on her face, hands, and clothes. Her face was streaked with sweat. How much did Soulchained connect their injuries? As far as Nathan was aware, he hadn’t felt any unknown injuries during the battle. No random stabs or slashes from invisible blades. Were all of Cleo’s injuries from Nathan getting hurt, or did Soulchained only activate when one of them was on the verge of death?

Then she turned and Nathan noticed the broken shaft of an arrow sticking out of her shoulder. He certainly hadn't felt that. So, it looked like Soulchained only worked when one was dying. That was good.

Arnold was up and moving, David wrapped up in the cloak like a dead body and slung across the older man’s back. He sprinted past Cleo as she fired her crossbow back toward the manor. Nathan heard a yell, but didn’t look back.

“Are they going to chase us all the way back?” Cleo yelled as she joined the wild run through the streets.

Buildings passed by in flashes as the city woke up around them. Merchants were setting up shops and carts, and more than once Nathan had to jump out of the way to avoid running into one. He leapt over barrels and boxes, following the others.

“Not likely,” Arnold huffed, taking big breaths between words as he ran. “I can’t imagine… they have many good… men left. They’ll probably… want to regroup… just as much as… we do. But I… don’t plan on… waiting to find out.”

It was not long till they all burst the doors of the tavern. Minerva practically leapt out of her skin on the other side of the bar. She dropped a loaded heavy crossbow and the thing went off, thudding a bolt into the ceiling.

They must have looked an awful sight. Ragged and bloody shapes, lurching into the room, gasping like the devil himself was on their heels. Minerva screamed and rushed from around the bar toward David and Arnold. She grabbed the boy and laid him on the ground, unrolling him from the cloak like a piece of meat.

His flesh was patchy and pale, with bits of it still burnt.

Nathan collapsed into the nearest chair, head falling back, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. Someone did the same in the seat next to him. It was Cleo.

Her head rolled to the side, as if her muscles were too weak and she was letting gravity do the work for her, and she met Nathan’s eyes. Then she cracked a smile, a gash on her lip splitting open and leaking a drop of blood. “Well, superhero,” she said. “You actually fucking did it.”

Nathan smiled himself. “We did… didn’t we.”

“I’ve gotta say, that was the most fun I’ve had in decades.”