I hate mornings. Almost as much as I hate oatmeal.

Mornings are the time where everyone stumbles out of their bunks. That's when you can tell if you can really trust someone.

If they're slightly groggy, have a solid bed-head, and will flip you off instead of answering before coffee? Safe. Trustable. You're in the clear.

The kind you have to watch out for are those so-called "morning people". You're telling me people choose to wake up at five-fifteen every morning, smiley and well-rested, maybe going on a jog or making breakfast for the family long before the sun is awake? Yeah right, who is actually like that and not hiding something?

I glared at my roommate as he let the sad excuse for sunlight spill into our room. Six-thirty in the morning. He opened the curtains at six-thirty in the morning.

Yes, my best friend/roommate is a morning person.

"Max." I groaned, pulling my blanket back over my eyes. "What Eternal lets you wake up this early."

"My Eternal?" he asked, laughing softly from somewhere on the left side of the room. I can practically picture the guy standing there, smiling like we weren't in a broken world. Like today wasn't just another die-before-lunch kind of day.

A knock on the door made me flinch under the covers. Stupid pounding. I'm such a chicken.

"Boys," I heard Declan say from behind the door. "Breakfast in fifteen or you don't get any."

Classic dad-mode. Turns out leading a squad of unstable elemental teens makes you suburban-dad-coded. With caffeine.

With a dramatic sigh, I rolled off my cot onto the hardwood floor with a satisfying thud, taking my blankets with me, though I finally got a look at what Max was doing.

He was sitting on the floor, organizing med supplies for the fourth time this week. Claimed he had to get them "perfectly perfect otherwise my brain will kill me." His blond hair falling into his eyes as he rolled up gauze and placed it carefully into the med pack he always carried around. His hoodie sleeves pushed up to his elbows, showing his light skin decorated with freckles.

"Max." I groaned, poking his knee with my foot. "Food is calling us."

He huffed a small laugh, looking up at me from his project. "Okay, let's go." He pushed himself up to his feet then offered me a hand. I rolled my eyes but took it, his skin warm against mine.

He pulled me up and pulled me towards the door, the metal floor echoing under our feet. I caught sight of my reflection in our little mirror. My dark curls were a mess, flattened on one side. My chest mismatched with scars from all kinds of random things. But the ones that always caught my eye first were my top surgery scars—jagged and pale on each side.

I smiled a little. I could walk around shirtless now without worrying about dysphoria. Well—not in that way.

~

Breakfast in this house was always a disaster.

Skylar trying to get everyone to eat something healthy before we go out for morning patrol. Tessa talking about the dream she had last night. Eliot silently judging everyone as they sit their tea. River egging me on to create chaos. Declan glaring at him and me. Max laughing at it.

Like I said—chaos.

We sat in the area of the warehouse with enough shelves for us to call it a kitchen. All of us crowded into mismatched chairs—half stolen, half falling apart from being repaired too many times.

"I'm allergic to this." I muttered, staring at the sad looking slop of oatmeal in my bowl.

"You're allergic to damaging your ego," Skylar told me. "now eat before I force it down your throat."

I rolled my eyes but ate the sad oatmeal anyways. Rule #1 of this house: don't mess with Skylar unless you want to get locked in the closet. There are spiders. It sucks.

"Let's go over morning routes real quick." Declan said, his voice easily louder than the chaos around us. We all snapped our heads toward the dad of the group, who wasn't even that much older than the rest of us.

He pulled a map over the table, one I recognized too well.

Ravenrock. Our home.

Nine Sectors. Some richer, some worse than poor. All crawling with government security we had to avoid if we wanted to live.

They didn't like us—Eternal Holders. People chosen by higher up beings to gift us their abilities to keep the balance of the world. Apparently the last Eternal Holders screwed things up so bad, they basically caused the apocalypse. Most of the world's gone, and so were they—dead from the aftermath. Now we're the new unlucky contestants in their freak show.

"Me, Ronan, and Max will start in Sectors nine and eight. Market and cargo. Focusing on the routes of the supply trains that come in, and keeping an eye out for anything suspicious." Declan started, pointing to the areas we'd be going to. Declan always seemed to pair me up with Max and him. Max 'cause he's the group healer, and Declan 'cause he thinks he can keep me in line if he glares enough.

"Skylar, Eliot, River. You guys take sectors seven, six, and five. Those are smaller so you'll have less ground to cover." He explained. "Meet back here by one so we can regroup and work on the final sectors in the afternoon."

"And no shenanigans," Skylar said, staring right at me. "I'm not dragging anyone out of federal prison again."

"Bummer, their hospitality was incredible." I sighed, pushing myself up out of my chair and making my way out of the kitchen area.

I felt a hard thing hit the back of my head before flopping to the ground. I turned around to see it was a book, the book Eliot had been reading at the time. Something about Eternal history or whatever. Ancient homework for nerds. Skylar was glaring at me while fist bumping Eliot.

Of course it was Eliot who threw the book, their aim scared me.

"Clean up your place at the table, you rat." Skylar ordered, pointing to my pushed out chair and bowl on table.

I rolled my eyes but stumbled back over to the table.

Sometimes it was better to just listen then hear the wrath of Skylar Ashbourne before noon.

~

I liked going into full "stealth mode" when we were on patrol. Usually there wasn't much going on unless we were lucky enough to run into government troops.

I needed excitement, so I created it.

"Ronan, what the hell are you doing?" Declan hissed at me as he walked in the tunnel on the train tracks.

I was lighting little leaves and random things on the sides of the tracks on fire. 'Cause why not?

The train tracks ran throughout the whole city. Before the apocalypse, it was a metro for commuters and tourists. Now? Rations, equipment, government weapons. Great upgrade.

Unfortunately, we stopped at one of the old stations that was locked off unless you snuck in and knew how to do it.

We did.

"And now we wait." I sighed, plopping down on the cracked concrete and watched the tracks. The echo of my voice made me else. Too loud. Declan shot me a look.

We had to time when trains came by and what they had on them. If the government seemed to be getting too many shipments, we took some off their plate.

Stealing weapons was always the highlight of my week.

Declan checked his watch, Max pulled out a map of the subway system, I fidgeted with the knife that usually sat in a sheath on my belt.

The weight felt grounding in my hands. The leather of the grip against my leather gloves gave my hands the stimulation they desperately needed.

I wasn't good at staying still. Nonna would glare at me, Mom would encourage it, Thornblade drilled it out of me, Declan just sighed.

It's interesting how my parental figures tried different methods, though none of it stopped me.

Half of them dead now. Just another thing on the list. Fate's got jokes.

The train came a while later—hard to tell how long had passed in a place with no light except Max's little lantern.

The wheels screeched as the train slowed to go around the turn. We counted the cargo boxes.

I stopped counting by the ninth one, there was too many.

So we simply hitched a ride on the government train. Jumped into a cargo boxes with the door open, my boots hitting the wood and I slammed into Declan making me lose my balance for a second. He steadied me and pulled me out of the way as Max jumped in after us, his lantern letting us see what was inside.

Crates and crates, stacked on top of one another. Declan checked his watch. "Five minutes before this train arrives at the checkpoint before bringing it into Thornblade's building. Check the boxes, take essentials." He muttered, grabbing his knife to pry open one of the crates.

Me and Max scrambled to do the same. I grinned when I saw the crate I opened was full of explosives.

Hand grenades, smoke bombs, smoke cannons, (whatever they used those for) toxin bombs, and a new one I hadn't had the pleasure of experiencing yet. It was in a simple metal casing, a red button on the top. Simple, sleek. Looked like a prototype.

I took it out to examine it in the light. Max was stashing food rations into his backpack, Declan was swiping guns and ammo.

"There's too much going to Thornblade, if this train gets to him, the army will be heavily upgraded." Declan said sharply, clicking ammunition into a handgun.

"We could...take some off their hands." I smiled, watching the bomb in my hands.

Declan looked at me and his eyes went wide instantly.

"Ronan." He said cautiously. "Where did you get that?"

I pointed lazily to the crate of explosives, keeping my eyes on the bomb like it was an expensive art piece.

"Ro, do you even know what that does?" Declan asked wearily. I wasn't stupid enough to turn this baby on when everyone was inside.

"We're about to find out." I grinned at him.

"Ronan, we can't—"

"These tunnels have survived atomic bombs, Declan. Do you really think they could get destroyed from this puppy?" I asked, throwing it up in my hands like it was a toy.

Which, it was.

Declan shook his head before sighing. "Don't get any of us killed."

"Never." I winked at him, making him roll his eyes. Max looked out the cargo box door.

"We should jump now." He told us.

We didn't waste any time. We all jumped out of the train.

I've always wanted to fly, I've tried it off roofs, buildings, the kitchen counter. It was always fun till you started to fall, the adrenaline turns into fear and suddenly you don't know where you're landing.

That's why I learned how to fall.

I hit the ground with a thud, the bomb clutched in the hand, my thumb right over the button. We had dove into a small dirt alcove. Plenty of those were around here that the homeless dug to keep warm in the winter.

I stood up and clicked the button before I could even think twice. The bomb beeped in my hand, i threw it over to the train tack, where the train was speeding by.

The bomb beeped faster.

Then it hitched a ride on the train.

I poked my head out of the alcove to watch the train start to get smaller in the tunnel.

A deafening boom echoed in the tunnel, the explosion destroying many train carts in seconds. Heat hit my face a few seconds later.

I laughed like a maniac as Declan pulled me into the alcove so I didn't get hit with the roof of a cargo box or something.

"This is why you're partnered with the healer." Declan muttered. "Mission complete, I guess. Let's go to sector nine." He said, dragging me by the hood as we started down the tracks opposite to the bomb site.

~

Sector nine was known as the market sector. See, the end-of-the-world broke the economy. So when Thornblade started to take over the leadership role, he didn't exactly like that people were stealing from places and people to survive. So bartering became the main way people could get things.

Though, many people still stole. Way more fun, honestly.

Declan led the way, dodging people and stray dogs. We were looking for the guy who got us medical rations. He owed Declan big from forever ago so that's how we get at least some of what we need.

I got distracted when I saw a cart with knives. All sizes, shapes, designs—blades for every technique imaginable. I knew how to use every single one.

As we passed by it, I just slipped one off the table while the owner was talking to a potential buyer. The guy had no idea that his knife was now in my pocket.

We tried to stay low in public spaces. Too many eyes, too vulnerable. Government troops were always after us. Thornblade wanted me back along with some new members to his elemental crew to do his dirty-work.

We finally got to the stand Declan was looking for. Declan dropped the payment onto the wood table—a sack of food rations to last the guy a week or so. The man nodded and pulled out a white box. Declan opened it up to check and make sure everything was there—bandages, pain killers, and many vials paired with a needle that looked too familiar to me. Testosterone.

It wasn't like I was scared of needles. It was the guilt. Declan giving up food so I could feel like me—whatever that meant anymore. I didn't know if I deserved it.

Declan clicked the box shut and pulled it off the table, slipping back into the crowd. I caught Max's eye. He was asking if I was okay without saying a word. I didn't answer. Just grabbed his wrist. We didn't need to lose sight of Declan.

I pulled Max through the rest of the market before we stopped right behind Declan. We were right next to an alleyway between two half-crumbled buildings. Thornblade put more money into the army than rebuilding the city. It's been like this since before I was born.

Declan didn't usually stop unless something was wrong. He glanced at me, then Max, then his eyes locked on the fact I was still holding Max's wrist.

He gave me a look that said, 'Really?' and I quickly dropped the healer's wrist.

Declan rolled his eyes with a slight smile but then he glanced around and it got serious again.

"Thornblade's troops are doing rounds looking for Holders and we're in the fire zone. We need to get back." Declan said quickly, then glanced back over to the alley. "Follow my lead and don't die."

"No promises, old man." I laughed, but followed right behind him.

The alley was separated on the other side by a brick fence too tall to just step over, we'd have to jump across. Easy, assuming we didn't get shredded on the barbed wire.

The alley itself smelled like piss, bad decisions, and expired pizza rolls.

Declan got to the fence first and locked his fingers around his knee to give us a boost.

Max went first, quickly jumping over the fence, I heard his boots hit the ground on the other side. "Clear." He said, his voice echoing slightly in the alley.

"Holders!" someone shouted. Boots pounding on concrete. I could already hear one of them fumbling for a radio.

"Shit." I mumbled, stepping towards them, ready to fight.

Declan yanked my hood so hard I could've gotten whiplash. It wasn't the pain that made my stomach twist—it was the fact that I was being dragged away from a fight I wanted. Needed.

"Don't start fights right now, Ronan." He said, his voice low, leaving no room for argument.

I rolled my eyes but stepped onto his hands and jumped up, gripping the ledge of the fence before reaching a hand down for Declan.