Dropping from the exercise bar, Jesse stood, breathing deeply after the strenuous exercise. Looking up from his large, flexing hands, his gaze met his reflection. A six-foot frame with well-defined muscles, covered by sweat pants hanging from trim hips, blended with the snug tank top clinging to his sweating, muscular torso. Some had called his strong, square jaw, topaz eyes and straight nose handsome. It was a face he saw in the mirror every day. The cropped ebony hair gave away the military affiliation, making others avoid him. It was the haunted expression meeting his own gaze that had him looking away. Betrayal was not something new to him. Trust didn't come easily, but he knew one or two people in this world who had gained his trust and worked hard to keep it.

Glancing out the nearby window of his handmade wooden cabin, he noticed the sun beginning its daily decline into the trees. Time to build up the fire for heat and start the generator for light and hot water. Grabbing a towel, he wiped at his face and arms as he moved toward the fireplace.

When he had selected this place to build the cabin, he had purposely not made a clearing. Instead, building the structure as part of the forest. To find it, the person needed to be looking for it.

It had taken all his resolve to walk away from his sadistic commanding officer and military unit. While reneging on orders to go for another genetic adjustment at that facility. He needed a place no one would look for him. He was fortunate to have found it. Over roughly six months, he had built this two-bedroomed cabin with a functional bathroom. He was proud of his achievement of a home in the middle of nowhere. If his father could see it, he would know all those hours of dragging him around, making him work in his construction and plumbing business had paid off.

Sadly, that would never happen. Picking up a log, Jesse threw it onto the smouldering fire as memories bubbled from a cold place inside him. The disappointment on his father's face when Jesse decided to join the military cut deep. He had written and phoned home a few times after signing. Each time the letters came back unopened, and the calls went unanswered to the machine. It had been made clear his father had nothing to say, nor did he want to listen. Clearing his throat, he pushed the memories aside. It had been years since he had heard from or seen his father, yet he was never far from his thoughts.

Rolling his shoulders, he scooped up the basket; as he moved to the back door. Opening it, he stepped onto a small porch and stopped at the top of a set of stairs. Looking around cautiously before stepping onto and following a worn path that veered to the right, he found the pitch of a wooden roof peeking through the branches of a nearby tree. A small wooden shed came into view. Unlocking it, Jesse stepped inside. The smell of machine oil, logs, dust and a slight tang of mould flooded his senses, welcoming him. He flicked a switch to the generator, checked the fuel level, and pressed the "on" button. The machine rumbled to life. Jesse lifted another large wicker basket from the wall and filled both with logs. When nothing else would fit, he dragged them outside, closing and locking the shed once more before hefting them to his shoulders and returning to the cabin.

Placing both wicker baskets next to the fireplace on a small, rough table, he flexed his tight shoulders again, this time rolling his neck as well. A prickling, tightening sensation ran over his skin, always a forerunner to a changing routine or incoming danger.

A slight movement between the trees caught his attention. Tracking the activity through the window, Jesse frowned before reaching for his gun on the side table. Checking the number of bullets in the magazine, he pushed the magazine back and looked out the window again. The movement came again. Jesse breathed in, filling his lungs, releasing his enhanced abilities from the tight hold he kept on them as he exhaled. A lone figure. No weapons. It could be an animal, but the heat signature was all wrong.

The sharpening of his sight, hearing, smell and touch was only some of the painful adjustments done to him. No one could read his mind. Everything he thought was private. He could sense if the person approaching was friend or foe. He discovered other things he wasn't aware of, such as abnormal strength, speed, and fast healing. Those had only come into being after he had destroyed the necklace with the damn tracking device attached. The glass of water holding the pendant and chain still sat on his mantelpiece. The olive green colour reminded him that he still had a choice.

The movement stumbled.

Animals didn't stumble … not like that.

The approaching form was a person.

Slowly a stumbling, filthy, wet, shivering person came into view. Moving closer to the window, he watched as the form rested against a tree, straining to raise a dripping, muddy head before stumbling toward the cabin. The person was a woman wearing a necklace in filthy, white garments. Jesse watched as she made it to the stairs of the porch, gripped the railing, pulling herself onto the porch before collapsing in a chattering, shivering, wet mess.

Pushing the gun into the back of his sweat pants, he moved toward the kitchen filling a glass of water and strode to the front door. He pulled it open and found the woman pushing herself into a sitting position. Ignoring her attempts, he reached for the necklace, tugged it from around her neck and dropped it into the water. The changing colours of purple to black and then clearing surprised him.

"Help," she whispered, her teeth chattering loudly in the silence, "please."

"Who are you?" he asked, scanning the area in front of the cabin. He didn't see or sense anyone else nearby.

"B … Breanna," her stammering whisper disappeared as her body sagged onto the porch.

Leaving the door open and the unconscious form, Jesse quickly placed the glass on the mantelpiece next to his own before returning and taking in the unconscious woman. She was muddy, wet, cold, and a dried trickle of blood ran from the clear puncture marks near her elbow to her wrist.

"Well, I guess I can't leave you here," he sighed, squatting he lifted her petite, light form into his arms, backed into the cabin and kicked the door shut. A precautionary measure of knocking the lock with his combat boot succeeded in securing the door, "let's get you clean and dry."

A shriek of rage echoed through the sterile, white passageways. The sound of shattering glass and clanging of metal against walls mixed with running feet and the sudden emptying of general areas could be heard before sudden unsettling silence fell.

"What do you mean, "she escaped'?" Darcia snarled, her chocolate brown eyes glowing with rage "you were supposed to do another procedure on her."

"Yes," the cloned medical technician stammered, "we found the body of Aubrey a short while ago. He was supposed to collect her."

"Then where is she?" Darcia turned to look at a security officer.

"We found security units taken out," he said, before clearing his throat, "it would seem she used one of the access cards for the East exit. We did follow but lost her in the forest."

"She left the facility," Darcia groaned, "have you tracked her necklace?" the question came through gritted teeth.

"Immediately," the security officer said, "it disappeared just before the river."

"Disappeared?" Darcia growled, her eyes flashing, "what do you mean disappeared?"

The security guard took a step back as the anger rolled toward him. Fear flashed in his eyes; his throat moved loudly on a swallow.

"It was on the monitor and then … not," his words ended as he reached the open door. He left the room just as the flying coffee cup hit the wall next to his position, spraying the dark liquid against the wall as it shattered.

"Find her," her commanding scream could be heard as he ran back to the security room.

Breanna could sense everything happening around her. She could feel the two fingers slide over her wrist once more. How many times had this man checked her vital signs? The gentleness of his touch as he had cleaned her skin, attended to her various wounds and laid her gently on a soft bed dressing her in clean clothes had startled her.

It wasn't something she was used to, nor could she remember anyone being this kind to her. She heard the soft question. "Who are you really?"

Felt the confusion about her. Yet she was unable to open her eyes or respond. She heard a sigh and hesitation before he closed the door quietly. Leaving her alone with herself. Silently sighing, she settled down to join her stubborn body in rest. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. The most delicious smell came to her, pulling a reaction from her body like nothing else had. The eyes snapped open, breathing in again; she took a moment for body and mind to link before the body started moving.

Moving across the open space, Jesse remembered the person he had worked alongside. He wasn't sure she was the same after being in The Facility or, as they called it, The Madhouse. At least she still had long chocolate brown hair, long eyelashes dusting high cheekbones and fine-boned wrists. He frowned, recalling her too light, slenderness with unusually high muscle tone. She needed food to feed and fill out the five foot six or seven-inch frame.

Jesse sank into a chair at the dining table. Uncovering the pot of meat and vegetable stew, he spooned some onto the plate in front of him. Reaching for another serving, he froze, watching the hairs on his arms rise and felt the prickle on the back of his neck. Sensing a presence, Jesse snapped his eyes to the area just outside the guest bedroom.

She stood staring at him, her nose flexing as she breathed in deeply. She swallowed hard. Hunger in her eyes.

"You were asleep," he murmured, "you hungry?"

She nodded.

"Have a seat," reaching for her plate, he ladled steaming food onto the plate.

"Where am I?" her voice was husky, low, rusty, moving cautiously toward him.

"My cabin," he murmured, "what woke you?"

"Smell of the food," she slid onto the seat, "where is my necklace?"

He pointed to the mantelpiece, where the two glasses stood side by side.

"Whose is that?"

"Mine," he said, "eat before you start shivering again."

"You've been in Darcia's facility," she stated, forking food into her mouth.

Nodding, Jesse chewed while watching her shovel the hot food into her mouth, chewing quickly and swallowing. That had to scorch her throat, but she seemed oblivious to the pain or heat.

"Did you escape?" she asked.

"Eat first," he pointed at her plate with his fork, "then we'll talk."

Nodding, she focused on her meal again. Jesse watched her eat.

"When last did you have a meal?" he frowned.

"I'm not sure," she muttered.

"I can see that," shaking his head, he stabbed a piece of meat with his fork.

Breanna didn't remember eating food tasting so good. The meat fell apart in her mouth, and the vegetables were explosions of flavour on her tongue. It had surprised her to wake up in these rustic surroundings. The wooden furniture looked rough yet well made, and the whole place felt … homey and cosy. Two words she definitely wouldn't have related to the lethal-looking man sitting across from her.

She watched as he poured crystal clear water into a glass in front of her.

"Where does that come from?" her rusty voice scrapping against her sensitive ears.

"Nearby river," he murmured, "it is filtered before coming out the tap."

Glancing toward the back wall, she found a kitchen ran the length.

"This place seems well designed," she said, "and well put together."

"Thank you," he murmured, "built it myself."

"You're talented. Why are you whispering?" Breanna asked.

"If I spoke with more volume, your stomach would roll with nausea, and you'll stop eating," he said, taking another mouthful of food.

"How do you know?" caution rippled through her words as the fork slowly lowered to the plate.

"I didn't have the convenience of a cabin with someone living in it when I walked away," his deep voice hitched as he spoke. "It was a while before I discovered why my healing was taking forever. I could barely lift a hammer. Then there were the nightmares..." he shook his head, "it wasn't until the necklace caught on a tree branch and came off that I understood their purpose."

"How long did it take to come back to normal?" she whispered.

"About twenty-four hours," he smiled, "so you're Breanna … Darcia's twin."

"I told you my name, didn't I?"

He nodded, "Plus, I don't think Darcia would leave her madhouse after having needles in her arm."

Breanna smiled a little, "I guess the outfit, mud and dripping water added to the equation."

"That as well," pointing with his fork, he grunted, "eat."

The meal continued in silence. The dishes were stacked in the sink, and the kettle was boiling before the man spoke again.

"You don't remember me," he sighed, ambling across the room and sinking into a seat in front of the fire blazing in the lounge area.

"No, but in my defence, I don't really remember anyone," she sighed, "I feel like I should have memories, but they just aren't there."

"She did a memory wipe on you," his voice rumbled into the silence, "I had heard about those procedures. Apparently, Darcia can do a wipe at the same time as memory enhancements."

"You think she did a memory wipe?" Breanna leaned forward, resting her elbow's on her knees.

"Absolutely," he looked across at her, "if you don't remember me, she did it. But there is one thing she doesn't know," he chuckled, "it's not lasting. If you can get away from her and the necklace, it can be undone."

"What about memory enhancements?" Breanna asked.

"Ah, that is permanent," he sighed, "that I know."

"Who are you?" Breanna sighed, "you know more about me than I of you."

"I was your best friend, your teammate in the military and your confidant," the man looked at her, measuring her, "we've known each other for years. To clear any confusion, you joined the military to frustrate your parents."

"I did?" Breanna frowned, "I have a family?"

"You were at odds with them," he sighed, stretching his long legs in front of him, "you didn't want to be smothered by their expectations when it came to your career and life."

"Do you think that is why Darcia did the wipe?"

"Possible, or she could have manipulated you into it," he smiled, "we have history … you and I."

"Good or bad history?" Breanna frowned, frustration rising with the self-anger.

"Both," he grinned, "you don't have to feel uncomfortable; you are safe here."

Confusion clouded her mind; part of her wanted to believe him the other part wasn't sure of anything.

Did she believe him?

A familiar pressure formed behind her breast bone. Was this man telling the truth? Allowing the pressure to push out toward him, Breanna felt the energy around him, tangible, pulsing. It was something she could touch. She could taste the truth of his words, but he didn't trust her fully. Something about the energy surrounding him felt unsettled.

"You don't trust me," she cocked her head to the side, watching fleeting expressions on his face.

"How do you know that?" narrowed eyes met hers.

"It's hard to explain," Breanna said quietly, "I can feel your energy."

"Huh," he grunted, "usually it's my mind that others try to read."

"She enhanced you to keep information locked in your mind until you speak it," Breanna mused, "but I don't read minds. You have been telling the truth. We were friends."

"Yes, we were inseparable. The information thing was a procedure requested by my CO," he said, "putting me in that hell hole four times that I knew of. There were times I remember waking up in a sterile environment after a mission. I don't remember if it was Darcia's facility or a conventional hospital."

"I take it the procedures were painful," Breanna shook her head as he nodded, "how can someone request that to be done to another human?"

"Until about six months ago, Darcia was a military contractor," the words came quietly, "the brass discovered she was overstepping the ethical mark and pulled her financing."

"How is she continuing?" Breanna shook her head.

"I wish I knew," he shook his head, "I'm just glad I'm not in there and that she has no way of tracking me."

Breanna sat up, "She can track us?"

"Relax," he chuckled, waving toward the necklaces, "once those are deactivated, there is no way anyone can track you."

"Oh good," Breanna sighed, relaxing into the cushion, watching the flames dance in the darkness, "I used the river to get away from the facility. A procedure was just completed, and my insane sister wanted me to have another. Right away."

"That is crazy," he frowned, "did they tell you what procedure?"

"I don't have the privilege of knowing the focus of my procedures," Breanna said quietly, looking anywhere else but him.

"You have never been told," he whispered, "that can't be easy. How do you know what to do?"

"Um ..." Breanna cleared her throat, "I trust my instinct."

"Stay with that road," he smiled, "it will serve you well."

"How did you come back from that?" Breanna asked.

"Slowly," he said quietly, glancing at her, "you need to sleep."

"I'm not tired," she said, confused by his words, "why do I need to sleep?"

"Trust me," he stood, "you need to sleep."

"Before you go," she said quietly, watching him, "what is your name?"

He paused at the door of his room, glancing over his shoulder, "Jesse."

She nodded her thanks as the door closed, "Jesse. Nice name."

Her eyes snapped open.

Her heart raced.

Unfamiliar darkness surrounded her. The usual glaring white walls were no longer. Breathing in deeply. Breanna frowned. The lingering screams of a nightmare faded, allowing the sounds and smells of the forest to fill her senses.

The scrapping of the trees. The grunts and wails of the animals. Was that a wolf howling?

She breathed in deeply. Trying to stay calm. Closing her eyes, she determined to go back to sleep. Five minutes later, she lay staring at the ceiling, still awake.

"What is going on?" she muttered, sitting up.

In the facility, she had always slept. It was the only time to escape the sounds of pain and torture. There was no way of knowing whether it was day or night.

Pushing to her feet, quietly opening her bedroom door, Breanna moved soundlessly into the general living area. The fire in the grate still blazed, warming the night air. A pile of board games, a pack of cards and some books lay on the kitchen table.

"How did he know?" Breanna shook her head.

Reaching for the books, she looked through the titles before selecting one.

"Reading," she moved to one of the sofas in front of the fire. Putting more logs of the fire, she settled to read, "let's hope I can concentrate with all the noise out there."

The smell of death, blood and destruction rolled on the air. Carnage filled the passages.

Bodies lay on the floor of the security room. Red pools running together like a weird sort of river.

Darcia breathed heavily.

"Find me more super soldiers," she glared at the black-clad figure nearby, "clean up this mess and find ... my ... sister."

"There are a few candidates for super soldiers," a mechanical voice said, "but you need to chat with Dr Madden about their capacity for the procedures."

Darcia snarled, "How is that going to bring my sister back?"

"We'll locate her," the black-clad figure muttered, "we may have lost her, but the necklace will disable her."

"The necklace has been disabled," a security official said while entering the room, "I have just seen the notification."

"Someone find out how she knew to disable it?" Darcia screamed.

"Perhaps, it was pulled off somehow in her escape and fell into a puddle of water," a dispassionate voice spoke from the shadows, "it did rain last night."

Darcia glared at the tall form working in the shadows.

"Never fear, my dear Darcia, she will be found," a chilling voice spoke from the doorway, "Breanna will be found. You will get to complete her enhancements."

"The question is," she ground out, "where is she now?"

"She cannot have gotten far," the security officer said evenly, "we shall find her whatever it takes."

"She left the river before the curve and waterfall," the security officer said as he lifted a dead body to carry away, "the complete deactivation happened about a half-hour after that."

"Then," Darcia said with deceptive calm, "Find. Her."

Jesse dressed and left his bedroom; stopping just outside the door, he took in the cosy form of his house guest tucked under a blanket on the couch next to a still blazing fire. Awake and reading.

"Good morning," he smiled, "I see your abilities came alive last night."

"You could have warned me," she said by way of greeting, "but thank you for the choice of entertainment."

"You're welcome," he smiled and nodded, moving into the kitchen, "I had to find a way to get through the horror of the wild; I found these were the best out of everything I tried."

"It couldn't have been easy," Breanna shook her head, "I heard a wolf howl last night."

"You have very enhanced and sensitive hearing," Jesse shook his head, "we don't have wolves close by. You probably heard the mountain wolves howling."

"Mountain wolves," Breanna put the book down, "how far away are the mountains?"

"Let's see," Jesse frowned, "about two days drive."

"What about the scraping of the trees?"

"Did it sound like glass being crushed?"

"Yes," Breanna nodded, "closer to home?"

"Much," Jesse grinned, "right outside the cabin."

"You could have said something about the hypersensitive senses," Breanna muttered, "you said I needed sleep. I haven't had much."

"You'll get some more tonight," Jesse chuckled, "give yourself time to be comfortable in your own skin. Breakfast?"

"I'm starving," Breanna muttered, "let me help, please."

"Get the eggs," Jesse pointed to a small gas fridge, "do you know how to make toast?"

"Is that a trick question?" Breanna looked at him sideways.

Jesse flashed a grin at her and bent to get the gas stove working.

"That was amazing," Breanna sighed, "why does the food taste different?"

"Different?" Jesse asked, clearing the dishes from the table.

"Tastes … better. More flavourful," Breanna sighed, leaning back in her chair, "I don't think I could get any more in."

"Good," Jesse chuckled, "now you can work it off by drying the dishes."

Breanna stood, "Sure. Where do I find the cloth?"

Jesse pointed to a wooden spike coming out of the nearby cabin wall. The rounded tip held an immense cotton knit cloth. Taking it down, Breanna turned to find Jesse staring at her.

"What is it?" she asked quietly.

"It's been years since we've done this," Jesse cleared his throat, "I was just remembering the last time."

"You have me at a disadvantage," Breanna murmured, "I don't remember at all."

"I know," Jesse sighed, "Darcia and her fanatics are not going to let your escape go easily."

"I'm concerned she will end up discovering us," Breanna shook her head, reaching for a plate, "what happens then? I certainly don't want to go back there, and I don't want her getting hold of you."

"I have a backup plan," Jesse spoke, scrubbing at a dish, "if it comes to that, we'll escape."

"The back door?" Breanna smiled a little, "do we swing from the trees? That is the only way I can see us getting away from her and her group of yahoos."

Jesse leaned on the counter, laughing, his face lighting up. Breanna stood fascinated, a smile spreading over her face. The mood and the feeling felt familiar, foreign, strange and yet.... fantastic.

"She will probably have some..." he chuckled a little, "yahoos who can swing from trees as well."

"How then?" Breanna nodded.

"I don't think she has anyone who can detect movement underground," Jesse spoke as he turned to wipe the table down.

"You have an exit underground?" Breanna felt genuine surprise.

"My instinct also tells me that before long," Jesse moved to the sink once more, washing out the cloth and hanging it on a nail protruding from the wall, "we'll be using that escape route."

"What is the drill if you have to leave?" Breanna sighed, "the last thing I want is for either of us to get caught or slow us down. If we leave in a hurry, where is the opening?"

"The opening?" Jesse's eyebrows raised, "no opening. But I have been known to walk through walls."

"What? That makes no sense," Breanna sank into a nearby kitchen chair, "what did my sister do to you?"

"Apart from the usual enhancements endurance, strength, eyesight, hearing, touch and the private mind. There is enhanced detail retention." Jesse shook his head, "I don't think I've forgotten something since the procedure was ordered," he sighed heavily.

"Is that your main ability?" Breanna asked quietly.

"I thought it was the only one," he sank into the kitchen chair near her, "turns out that the more I didn't have the necklace on, the more abilities started coming to the surface."

"Like what?"

"Let's see," Jesse frowned, "sensing other life forms nearby and knowing whether they are friend or foe."

"Wow," Breanna shook her head, "that could be helpful."

"Yes," Jesse chuckled, "but also for the person approaching, like you, it was the difference of letting you get to my porch or using you for target practice."

"Thank you," Breanna smiled, "you have no idea how much I appreciate being allowed to live."

"What did she do to you?" Jesse whispered.

"I got to the point of thinking there wasn't anything else to be done to me," Breanna sighed, rubbing her forehead, "it was bad, Jesse. The regular starters cocktail … you know … strength, hearing, smell, sight and touch … but Darcia was doing something to me on an emotional level."

"Do you know what it was?" Jesse frowned.

"Darcia never thought I needed to know. I know I sense truth, honesty and emotions," she said, "recently, I discovered by using a combination of thoughts and emotions, I disable people."

"Kill them?" Jesse asked.

"Possibly, I did inside the facility," Breanna whispered, "outside here without that necklace... I don't know," Breanna said, frowning slightly, "there are other things I've discovered; for instance, I sense I can trust you with my life. But I never felt like that in the facility. I released the pressure when I was escaping, and the security officers fell. I couldn't sense anything about them."

"Hmmm, what else?" Jesse asked, a frown knotting between his eyes.

"At the moment," Breanna sighed, shaking her head, "apart from those two abilities, I don't know."

Jesse watched the woman across from him, wondering if she knew of the file he had read on one of his hacking assignments. Breanna's records were filled with crazy codes and notations.

"I know that Darcia was trying to make you into some kind of super-soldier," Jesse sighed, "that is one of the issues that got her funding pulled."

"What is a super soldier?" Breanna leaned forward.

"They have the same ... starter cocktail of basic enhancements, but their abilities are honed to lethal proportions." Jesse said, thinking before continuing, "something along the lines of a level five mutant from the X-men comics."

"That is lethal," Breanna grinned, "I remember some of the tests Darcia put some experiments through. They had to fight each other, not holding anything back."

"To the death?"

"Sometimes," Breanna nodded, "but Darcia always sent them for retraining or reprogramming, and they would be back and tested again."

"Like tuning up a car," Jesse mused, "only she tweaked the gene's of the person."

The hairs on his arms and neck suddenly rose in formation and called for battle stations. Jesse looked out the window nearest to him. Narrowing his eyes, he could make out heat signatures coming through the trees, and if he wasn't mistaken, they were heavily armed.

"Our time is up," Jesse said, "in the cupboard over there," pointing to a wooden panel near the front door. "You'll find two backpacks. Grab them and meet me at the back door," he didn't wait for Breanna to acknowledge; moving toward the back door of the cabin, Jesse found the emergency switch.

Breaking the safety glass, he pulled the switch. Breanna stopped next to him, handing over a backpack. He pulled it over his shoulder as he turned to open a cupboard under the sink. A small arms cache came into sight. Jesse unzipped a black tog bag, carefully dropping all the guns and ammo boxes into the bag before zipping it up again.

"This way," he said, checking his watch, "we have... about five minutes."

"Five minutes until?" Breanna asked, following close behind him.

"Breach of the premises and everything here will go up in smoke," Jesse glanced over his shoulder.

Breanna's face was pale. She swallowed hard but nodded resolutely. There was the woman he knew.

"Okay, so when we leave, we leave … no coming back," Breanna said, nodding while pulling the backpack over her shoulders, "let's go."

"Stay close, and whatever happens, don't look back," Jesse muttered, opening a door next to the bathroom, "down here, it's steep, so watch your step."

The pair of them quickly moved down the stairs into a high ceilinged, stone tunnel. Jesse flicked on a flashlight from his backpack, checked his watch and started to walk.

"What is it with the time?" Breanna asked, from behind him, "do we have to be a certain distance from the cabin before it blows?"

"Something like that," Jesse said, "but we have to move; otherwise, we'll be buried under here."

"How much time do we have?" Breanna's question came as the ground began to tremble.

Jesse stopped, frowned down at his watch, glanced up at the shaking ceiling, then back the way they had come.

"How?" the ground trembled harder, "damn, we're out of time," Jesse shouted, "run."

Moving as quickly as they could to cover as much ground as possible, Jesse and Breanna ran. Not looking back as the rumble became louder, the dust began sprinkling to the earth around them.

"Faster," Jesse shouted, "we need to get to that wooden door before the ground caves in."

"Oh, really, that door," Breanna glanced sideways in disbelief, "it's about another five minutes away."

"Then run faster," Jesse ground out, increasing his speed.

"This feels like one of those damn tests," Breanna muttered, increasing her speed to match his.

The deafening sound of falling ground spurred both of them to increase their speed even more. Jesse reached the door first. In a fluid motion, he yanked it open, turning, grabbing the front of Breanna's T-shirt as the sand crumbled above them, showering them with clods and dust. Pulling her with him as they made it through the door. Slamming it behind them and throwing the plank across the entrance. Sealing the cave-in and the tunnel.

They had made it.

Just.

Out of breath, dusty and sprawled on the sandy floor, Breanna looked about the enormous stone cave. The kind that had been in existence for centuries and stood against mother nature and the inhumanity of man.

"If you knew we didn't have that much time," she coughed, slowly pushing up into a sitting position while looking up at the high ceiling a few storeys above them, "why didn't we run from the start?"

"We still had two minutes," Jesse bent from the waist, resting his hands on his knees, catching his breath, "someone breached the cabin before the five minutes were up."

"Huh," Breanna dusted herself off, "which means someone came from another direction. One you didn't see or feel. Someone who perhaps knew you were living there."

"Darcia didn't know I was there," Jesse stood, "but I see what you mean. It didn't have to be Darcia. It could have been one of her fanatics."

"Too many questions that need answers right now," Breanna smacked at her dusty pants, "what now?"

"This way," Jesse said, grasping Breanna's hand and pulling her from the floor before leading the way into an adjoining rock tunnel, "this one won't give in."

"Where does it come out?" Breanna followed cautiously.

"The seaside," Jesse glanced over his shoulder, his grey eyes pinning her, "we have a two-day hike ahead. You up for it?"

"I've just run down a collapsing tunnel," Breanna grinned, "I'm ready for a two-day hike, as long as it doesn't fall on me."

Jesse's chuckle rumbled in the stone tunnel, "Let's go."

"The team... hasn't returned?" the question was ground out, raging insane chocolate brown eyes pinned the messenger.

"The team went to retrieve Breanna," the quivering messenger said, "there was an explosion. It killed everyone."

"An explosion?" Darcia stared hard at the man, "what kind of an explosion?"

"An all-consuming ... explosion," the man stammered, "took out the cabin, the shed and the storage areas."

"A rigged explosion," Darcia cocked her head to the side, "are you saying Breanna is dead?"

"We don't know if Breanna was in there, but we have already activated your finders groups in all areas," the man babbled, "if she escaped, we should find her."

"You'd better hope she is alive," Darcia snarled, "she has to be brought in again."

"What about the man with her?"

"Man? What man are you talking about?"

"Apparently, a man was living in that cabin," the messenger blundered, "we couldn't detect another experiment, just saw an infra-red reading of... a man."

"He had better wish he was dead. I don't care how long it takes to find my sister," Darcia said with a feigned calm before her voice turned to a snarl, "I want her found."

The smell of the ocean reached them as the breeze fluttered around them. Breanna could sense they were close to the end. She was dusty, tired and apart from the short break they had taken, they had continued to walk … endlessly.

"How far do we have to go?" she asked, the whispered request sounding loud in the silence.

"Probably another few hours," Jesse whispered, "the ocean smell is getting stronger. We'll be in the beach cave in no time at all and then to the safe house."

"You have a safe house?"

"Pretty much," Jesse said as he trudged on, "it's more a friends house. He helps with anyone I come across in the woods."

"There have been others to escape Darcia?"

"No," Jesse stopped walking, turning he met Breanna's questioning gaze, "no one until now has escaped and gotten out of Darcia's madhouse on their own."

"Who would you find in the woods then?" Breanna asked, taking a moment to catch her breath.

"Hikers, campers … mostly people who were lost." Jesse shrugged, starting to walk again, "in the last few months, it was better to extract everyone through the tunnel than through Darcia's area."

"Why?" Breanna frowned, "surely it is safe for civilians."

"Not any more," Jesse cleared his throat, "Darcia is using anyone to work on. That is another reason why her funding was cut. People disappear and may or may not reappear. Like Valencia."

"Who is Valencia?" Breanna frowned.

"Wait until you meet her," Jesse spoke over his shoulder, "you'll probably recognise her."

Breanna couldn't remember anyone she would recognise by that name. Shrugging, she followed Jesse. Her senses seemed to be on overdrive. She could sense his confusion about the whole explosion thing, but he wasn't lying about Valencia. He was guessing about the time it would take to get to the end of the tunnel, and he felt really uncomfortable about being underground.

"When was the last time you were underground?" Breanna whispered.

"Darcia's facility." Jesse muttered, "I can do something like this," he waved his hand, indicating the tunnel and caves, "but being underground indefinitely … that is another story."

Breanna stopped suddenly as her chest tightened. Gasping, she crouched.

"Breanna," Jesse turned quickly, squatting in front of her, "you okay."

"I don't know," Breanna tried to breathe evenly, "my chest..." she breathed in again, "so tight."

"Has this happened to you before?" Jesse asked.

"Only once," Breanna frowned, breathing in again, "there is a chemical smell."

"Chemical smell?" Jesse frowned, looking around, "where is it coming from?"

Breanna closed her eyes, concentrating on the origins of the smell, "Up ahead, probably around the next corner," her eyes snapped open, "does anyone know about this tunnel?"

"Not that I know of," Jesse helped her to her feet, moving them into a nearby alcove, "shall I go and look?"

"No," Breanna grabbed the front of his jacket, pulling him deeper into the alcove. Raising a finger to her lips, she met Jesse's steady questioning gaze. The sound of heavy boots crunching over sand and rock came to their ears.

"Are you sure they would have come this way?" an accented voice echoed.

"At the end of this tunnel, there is a cave, besides it has various entry and exit points. They could have gotten out of the house and into the cave. Perhaps exited the tunnels at one of the points."

Breanna frowned; she knew that voice. But from where? Carefully looking into the cave, she blinked quickly, trying to adjust to the glare of the flashlights. Two men stood in the tunnel, opposites in looks and build. The muscular, well-built man with dark hair, heavy-lidded eyes and very tanned skin spoke with an accented voice. He indicated various points where Jesse and herself could have possibly left the tunnel. The other tall, broad-shouldered, ordinary-looking man with blond hair, bright blue eyes and nondescript voice feigned interest in what was being said. Easing back against the alcove wall, checking no part of Jesse or herself gave away their position. She breathed in deeply, slowly letting the exhalation relax her.

"Wait until I tell Darcia about these tunnels," the nondescript voice said, "she is going to be tantalised by the possibilities of the enhancements she can do."

Breanna froze in place. Swallowed hard against the rising bile and turned terrified eyes to Jesse, gripping his hand in hers. The memory was fuzzy but just there. She could still feel the pain of the procedure. But that voice talking of the unending possibilities of what had been done to her was something she would never forget.

The shuffle of feet moved past their hiding place. They waited until silence met their hearing before moving out. Jesse indicated silence before pointing toward the direction they needed to go. Side by side, they moved stealthily. Time was of the essence. Instinct screamed; they did not have much before the two men returned. Once out of sight of the area, they broke into a run maintaining as much speed as possible.