Subject A250: The Flame (COMPLETED)

Twenty: The Tunnel of Turmoil

A/N: The photo above was taken by yours truly. You're welcome.

Also, you're welcome for the longer-than-usual chapter.

Trace had been staring at the bodies for the last twenty minutes. She'd stepped towards them, stepped back, and paced the floor at least a dozen times over that time period.

"What is it?" Rose finally asked.

Trace frowned, still not removing her gaze from the slumped figures on the ground. "I'm trying to decide if what I want to do is okay or not. If it's good or bad. If it's moral."

Rose took a step towards her, intrigued. "What do you want to do?"

Apparently that question alone was enough to force Trace to make a decision. She stepped forward and crouched down beside the nearest body. It was Lightning. She reached into his pockets, searching for anything of use. She found a tissue, a pocket knife and a pair of brass knuckles.

"Why wasn't he wearing these?" she asked, to no one in particular.

She kept searching, and felt a crumpled piece of paper in his shirt pocket. She pulled it out and held it to her torchlight, examining it.

It was a family photo. He had a daughter and two sons. Possibly twins. There was a woman with him, who Trace could only assume was his wife.

Lightning had a family. It was an odd thought, but Trace hoped they were long gone. That she hadn't taken a father from his children.

She must've looked pretty upset, because Rose kneeled down beside her, staring at Trace with concerned eyes. It was a look Newt had given her many a time back in the Glade. She wished he was here right now.

"They're dead too, Ava," Rose assured her. "He wouldn't be here if they weren't. Or if he wasn't a danger to them in some way. They'd already lost their happy ending."

Trace returned to photo to Lightning's pocket, not wanting to take any more from him than she already had. Rose leant forward and placed a finger on each of his eyelids to close them.

"There," she murmured. "Now he's just sleeping."

She made her way around each of the other bodies, doing the same thing. Trace stopped her at Ben's.

"Wait," she said. "I need to do this one."

Trace crouched down beside the boy who'd- twice- tried to kill her. She stared at his empty eyes.

"Sorry, Ben," she said. "Dagger, if you prefer. I'm sorry I couldn't save you. I'm sorry you had to go through what you did. I'm sorry I let you down."

She reached out and mimicked Rose's actions, feeling a little relief when his eyes were finally closed. Ben was really gone this time.

"We have to go." She turned to Rose, not wanting to spend any longer here than she had to. They salvaged the last of the weapons from the other men, mainly due to the horrific idea of anyone else finding them. Then they went on their way.

"South," Rose repeated, for clarity.

"South," Trace confirmed, once they'd reached the main tunnel again. From the layout of the gang's building, and Flint's vague directions, this passage had to lead that way. The opposite side of the city to the way they'd come in.

She desperately hoped her instincts were right.

To calm her nerves- and keep her musical career intact- Trace began to rap.

"Walking in the tunnel

'Cause you shouldn't run, fool

Unless you feel like tripping,