Ignoring the fact that Owen is calling after me to stop, I mentally map out my trip home. I start by sprinting down the street and making a few lefts, avoiding the capitol building and its raging party.

My breathing becomes uneven as I finally make a right turn onto my street. Dirty houses and familiar apartment buildings clutter the road. Half-dead grass and ugly weeds fills each lawn. Without hesitation, I hurry down the street and run up the pathway of the aging house on the corner.

I leap onto the crooked porch, wiping my forehead with the back of my hand. I've finally returned to my home sweet home. I bang on the front door.

No answer.

I exhale and search the porch for the pot of dirt we hide our spare key in. I kneel next to the dull pot and dig through the dry soil. Within a minute, I find the key at the bottom and pull it out.

I jam the key in the lock and push open the door, twisting the shaky knob. "Mom?"

I wait for a moment and repeat her name, then Matt's, then John's and Finn's.

No reply.

I walk into the kitchen, floorboards creaming. Nothing. I run my pointer and middle fingers on the kitchen table. Nothing. No crumbs, no anything. I exit the kitchen, doubting anyone is here except or me.

I check the upstairs, and I don't find anything except for a thin layer of dust. So why did that Owen guy get here if Matt didn't? Are they still in Hawaii, waiting for the next flight here. Or are they supposed to remain thousands of miles away from me?

I sigh and debate about what to do next. I could wait here or I could return to Vivian and the party. With another sigh, I decide on a bath instead.

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After filling the tub with fresh water from the local well, I strip my clothes and hop into the water. The tub is freezing cold, but years of cold baths makes me about 50 percent immune to the reflex of jumping out of the water.

I wash myself with the lump of soap on the edge of the tub. I finish quickly, drying off and dressing in my street clothes: a green shirt and a pair of jean shorts with my Renegade sneakers. Burning extra time, I braid my hair into a fishtail braid my mom recently taught me. It reminds me how much she cares about me, even if we're so far apart.

I strap my knife vest on again and carry the rest of my gear out of the bathroom. I dump my stuff near the front door and take a seat on the ratty sofa. I sigh and listen to the beating music playing in the distance. The tune penetrates the walls, entering my ears.

"I'm lightning on my feet! And that's what they don't see, mmhmm."

I lie down on the sofa and relax, listening to the catchy music. The solitude is nice, but the lack of company nags me. I reassure myself. It might take them a few days, and I shouldn't worry.

Then out of the blue, I'm thrown from my thoughts.

The music suddenly cuts off, replacing itself with a blaring alarm. I bolt from the sofa and fling the front door open, running outside. The ElectroBoard nearby displays a message that nearly causes me to pass out.

And then another message shows up, audibly booming across the country in General Fadhill's voice.

My hands begin to tremble, and I leap inside again. There's no way I can stay here. My house doesn't have a basement or an air raid shelter.

I grab my backpack and fly into the kitchen. I throw all the food I can find in my bag. Taking a small pot and the kitchen knives, I grab the house key once more. A pack of matches, the extra soap underneath the sink, and a handful of utensils add to my stockpile. I run into the bathroom upstairs and grab my toiletries, jamming them into my backpack as well.

I shakily toss my arrow sheath and pack onto my back, and I grab my bow. Slamming the front door behind me, I run down the street. In my panic, I manage to trip over a pothole and fall onto my stomach. I writhe in pain for a few seconds before crawling to my feet and sprinting again.

General Fadhill's message continues to beat into my ears. Pure fear cold as ice fills my stomach. This can't be happening, this can't be happening. President Sheops sold out the ISA, rendering the USA immobile and vulnerable.

It only takes me a minute to reach the capitol building, and the crowd is long since plunged into anarchy. Everyone runs in every direction. Someone's elbow finds its home in my stomach, and the air is knocked out of me. I pant for a few senses before I gain my senses and flee.

My best bet is the woods, but I find myself searching for Danny instead. I run against the current of the crowd, silently praying. I hope wherever he is, he'll be safe. I can't find safety without my Renegade partner. I care about him too much to let him die alone.

The hysteria of the crowd doesn't help my mood. My heart to jam in my throat as I search. Stopping dead in my tracks, I turn every which way, desperate to find him. Danny, where are you?

Whether I find him or not, I've got to get to the woods.

I have to.

The Europeans are coming to take our country. The rest of the world must be furious with the destruction of the Monroe Doctrine. How is this even possible? We were all so close to true freedom.

It doesn't matter anymore. World War IV is here.

And I'm going to die.

I'm going to die in the crossfires when the USA is reduced to a battleground. Death and debris will be all that's left of us.

I run faster, panic and adrenaline allowing my feet to fly over the pavement. I'm so scared I can barely feel it.

World War IV is coming for us.

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PLOT TWIST! oh, i bet you guys didn't see that coming! hahaha, you thought that life would be resolved, didn't you.

*flashback to June 6, 2014*

for my reading/writing class at school, we had to write a 500 word creative writing piece. naturally, i chose to write the final chapter of Instability. i was THE ONLY person EVER in the HISTORY of that class to get a 100 PERCENT on that paper! i decided to incorporate elements of that paper (WW IV, Owen, the party, etc.) into the actual story.

i'd also like to thank YOU, the reader! even though i don't know you, and you could be thousands of miles away from me and my humble laptop, i love you for getting to chapter 24 of my book. I really can't thank you enough :) I dedicate this entire book to you, and I hope that you tell all your friends to join the instability experience. THANK YOU LOTS OF LOVE...

but the best is yet to come.