In the Moonlight (Lyss)

Other than his blood pounding in his ears, all Rowan could hear was the constant slapping of his sneakers against the concrete. Right now he felt so alive, so high, but at the same time he felt troubled. He knew it had been wrong to leave Clair in the wrecked area he had been in only a few minutes ago; he knew it was wrong to tell her his plans of running away and then not invite her. This was his and Nee's decision, though, and it was meant for them only. It had been hard for him not to turn around and tell her to follow him when she screamed for him.

The wind began to stir up, splitting his hairs down the middle of his forehead. Sweat had begun to bead up around his eyebrows and dribble down the sides of his face. Even though it was a cool night, he was still having to try to conquer heat. He wasn't sure if he should pile on the layers when he reached his house or to shove them in his pack. If he ever reached his house, that was.

Rowan almost collapsed from exhaustion when he saw his house on the small hill about twenty yards ahead of him. Groaning, he swallowed hard and pushed himself to go faster. The pain rippled through him intensely as he sprinted straight for his house. He knew if he didn't slow down soon he would crash into his front door. Right now, all that mattered was getting to Nee as soon as possible. Nee.

Rowan skidded to a halt in front of the door that kept him trapped inside, that sheltered him from the world. He quietly fumbled with the lock, shoving the door open when it finally cooperated. He quietly pressed it back into the door frame behind him and tiptoed up the stairs to his room. His bags rested underneath his bed, packed when had woken earlier that evening. One contained a thick, heaping pile of clothes, while the other had a few items he managed to snatch up around the house while looking natural. A box of matches, a spiral of rope, a gallon of water, a container that his mother used to store leftovers in. Rowan hefted one over each shoulder and slowly made his way back down the stairs, grabbing the bottle that had been knocked on the ground from earlier.

His final destination was the kitchen. He had no idea what would be a good idea to bring, and how much of each he should take. He knew Nee would have some, and that he would have to leave his family enough food so they wouldn't have to restock too soon. He grabbed things that he could only hope wouldn't spoil too quickly. He stuffed his semi-empty bag with a loaf of bread, fruit, a handful of uncooked meat, and whatever he thought his family could survive without. He only needed the knives now; the knives in the oh-so-secret drawer his parents thought he didn't know about. There was a cupboard above the refrigerator, and inside it was a hidden compartment containing the Springer's largest and sharpest knives. He grabbed a handful of them and dropped them into his bag, zipping it shut as quietly as he could.

He didn't even think twice about not leaving his family a note explaining what he was doing. He grabbed his permanent marker from a different cupboard and applied a fresh coat to the '143' on his hand. He knew he couldn't let them think he had been kidnapped or anything, though, so he grabbed a napkin and wrote 143 in big print in the center. He figured they wouldn't understand, so he wrote in a smaller print 'I LOVE YOU' and then shoved the marker in his pocket. Rowan took one last view of his house before stepping back outside into the windy night.

He only needed to stop at work before meeting up with Nee. He was lucky that it was fairly close to his house, a good running distance. He knew nobody had late night shifts in the later seasons. All he needed was an uncareful employee that had forgotten to lock up. He could only imagine it was somebody from his crew when he easily pushed the door open.

Rowan knew there was a hallway full of supply closets in the back. He had no idea what was in any of them, though; the only way to get the final supplies he needed would be to open each door. Opening one after another, each closet came up empty or full of booze, and each empty closet lessened his spirits. With only one closet to go, he was very discouraged.

The closet was unlike the others from the start. All of the others had a smell of fresh paint, while this one smelt like sawdust. He flicked on the switch and was surprised to find yet another door. A sign was hammered onto it, reading 'EMERGENCY KITS!' It surprised Rowan that this door was unlocked, as if though somebody had to get a kit and leave instantly. There was no light switch in this room, but he could make out the shapes of small backpacks and axes, which he grabbed one of each. There was just barely enough room in his food and supplies back for the final gear.

Slamming the doors behind him, Rowan fled his work, sprinting towards his and Nee's rendezvous point. It took about an additional ten minutes, but it was all worth it when he saw the outline of Nee's body in the distance. He was slowing down, even with his eagerness to see Nee. He could feel his bags slip off of his shoulders and then heard the thump they made when they landed, but it didn't matter at all. All that had mattered this whole time was Nee.

When he got close enough, he flung his arms out, pulling Nee into a warm embrace. He pulled her into a long, sweet kiss, happy that he was with her once again. When he pulled away, he took both of her hands in his.

"Are you ready?"

Rowan watched as Nee took glances at the fence, and for the first time since he proposed his plan, he was worried. What if something happened to them out in the woods? He was more confident in Nee's healing abilities than his, if he even really had any. If Nee got seriously injured, he wasn't sure if he would be able to help her. It wasn't like he would have a choice. Help would be so far away, and he wouldn't be able to explain that Nee was out in the woods.

He could sense that doubt was flowing through Nee, and he began to wonder if this had been a good idea at all. He gave her hands a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

“Ready as I’ll ever be. Just don’t let go of my hand.”

Rowan smiled and gave her a quick kiss.

"I didn't plan on ever letting go."

He looked up at the night sky, taking in all the beauty. This is something people should be able to sleep under. Paintings don't do it justice. Rowan bit his lip, trying to remember things he had seen on TV before. Once a year, his family was allowed to pay to see a movie on the old television set. One time they had a watched a movie where a couple had run away. It seemed so much more romantic.

The couple in the movie was never scared; they were thrilled the whole time. They were always filled to the brim with confidence. They moved with no caution, always barely avoiding danger. Because they were actors.

A smile spread across his face again, remembering what he had told Nee so long ago. He remembered telling her how that this wasn't an act, following it up with some cheesy lines, and then kissing her for the first time. It hadn't been his first kiss, but could it have been hers?

“We’d better get moving, it could get even colder. Please, please tell me you have a tent.”

"Well," he began "When I went to get the ax from work, I also found this bag in a closet labeled emergency kits."

Rowan bent over and picked up his three bags. He slid the two larger ones over his shoulder and clutched the smaller emergency one in his left hand.

"I know it's small, but what else could they put in an emergency kit?"

A shaky laugh spilled from his mouth. What else could they put in an emergency kit? What a stupid thing to say. They could put food in there, water, iodine, medical items, etc. His eyes darted from Nee to the bag to back to Nee. The look on her face told him that she was not amused. His eyes widened at the thought of not having a tent in this cold weather. A small sound in the back of his throat pressed through his clenched teeth. He dropped all three bags, still holding Nee's hand, and crouched down low.

"Let me check."

It took him a while to unzip the bag with one hand, but he was rewarded with fruitful results. Inside was a tent, a rolled up sleeping bag, and a medical kit. He zipped it back up and pushed himself up from the ground.

"Looks like food and water isn't an emergency in their opinion, huh?"

Rowan gave her another kiss, one that was a little longer than the one before. He picked his bags up again, trying to carry them the best way he thought he could. He shrugged the smaller pack over both his shoulders and then a larger pack on top of that, having to let go of Nee's hand for a microsecond. He then hefted the last pack over his left shoulder. He lead Nee over to her gear and slipped the heavier of the two bags over his other shoulder. He gathered her other bag's straps in his hand and laughed, knowing how ridiculous he looked.

They began to walk towards the fence, which had seemed to be a problem. He knew that there had been a storm recently, which probably explained why the fence wasn't alive with sparks. He knew that there would be holes in the fence somewhere. People from work always ventured into the woods to chop some extra logs for their own family. Most were caught, but some had escaped with a good amount of produce. Sometimes they had to cut the fence if a log was too heavy.

Rowan always wondered why Peacekeepers never bother to patch up the holes, considering how large the one right in front of them was. He went through first, getting strands of his hair caught in bundles of very thin wire. He then helped Nee through, making sure she didn't get anything caught on the sharp wire. He wondered if she had ever been lucky like this before, if the fence had ever been off.

After they had been walking for a few minutes, he turned to Nee, a smile already returning to his face.

"Remember the day you were on my team, when we were waiting out the storm in that storage unit? I told you how I had kissed a lot of girls before, and then a few minutes later I kissed you? Well, anyways... Was I your first kiss?"

The question came out rushed and in a laugh, the words barely coming out in a coherent manner. His small smile had turned into a wide grin, and he could feel his cheeks beginning to burn.