Mirim looked like she was sleeping. Her eyes were closed. Not the tight closed of the anxious or the trying to sleep or the trying to forget, they were just closed. Her chest rose and fell slowly but regularly and her body lay still. She looked peaceful. Hausen rubbed his face, scrubbing tiredness from his eyes. He should be asleep himself, he should be able to slip into the sandman’s embrace without resistance, but he couldn’t. After a few hours full of frustrated sleeplessness he had come here to look at his daughter. She lay in a cold room alone. One of a small group of people capable of medical practice visited her once every hour or so. They tapped the IV drip, they looked at the scratched monitoring equipment and they checked her pulse. No change. They smiled as they said it, trying to convey that nothing was a good thing. ‘Induced coma’ a chipped and yellowed chart said. He wiped tears from his eyes. I failed you. He took her hand in his, gripping tightly. “I’m sorry Mi”, he whispered in a hoarse voice. “I really tried”. Petrisen yawned loudly, leant back and stretched. He rubbed his eyes and then scanned the monitors in front of him. Three tall, four wide, the bank of monitors were feeds from cameras surrounding the Garden. All showed motionless tunnels or platforms. Static crackled in his left earpiece. "North patrol reporting in" a light female voice said. "Acknowledged", Petrisen replied. "Nothing to report. Silent here", the woman continued. "Confirmed". A small faux-leather backed journal lay open before him. Checking his watch – scavenged from a broken ruin of a store many years ago, miraculously still in perfect working order – he scratched the date and time and that everything was ‘All Clear’. Just like every other entry in the book. A knock on the door brought Petrisen's head around. A young man in overalls entered. "Ready to get some sleep?" Petrisen nodded, gesturing at the empty images before him. "Nothing happening as usual Mickey" "No more visitors?" Petrisen sighed. He knew that Mickey distrusted Hausen and his group. He also knew that he was by no means the only one. "No, no more visitors". Mickey nodded. "Good. Where are our new guests by the way?" "We found them space in the tower on the train line, the one we have been shoring up, establishing the sentry post and the new medical area. A few families have moved into the inner areas, so they are close to people and close to the train. After everything they have been through we thought they might like to be close to others". "Is that wise?" Petrisen rubbed his eyes again, turning away to collect his jacket hanging nearby. "I know you don't trust them, but I think they are ok. They are more afraid of us I think. They have been running for a long time and it's difficult for them to let their guard down. Besides, there is no room anywhere else. You know we have outgrown the space down here. "If it makes you feel any better Mickey, I have a couple of extra people keeping an eye on their rooms. Remember the sentry area has three gun emplacements with shifts rotating every six hours. There are enough people there to keep everyone safe and to keep an eye on them don’t you think? " He pulled off his earpiece and carefully coiled the wire into a small tight coil, resting it beside the activity journal. He checked his watch again. ‘2.27am. Petrisen signing out’ he entered. "Mickey?" Petrisen repeated when he realised that the other man had still not said anything. He turned towards him. Mickey just pointed at a blinking light in the panel beneath one monitor. As Petrisen watched, what had been a broken carriage pulled away from the mine and started towards the Garden. The door crashed open, smashing Felicia violently from a dream of climbing trees and flying with birds to two figures staring down their rifle barrels at her. She screamed involuntarily, the sound bursting from her as she struggled to process what was happening. The man and woman ignored her, their faces tight. “Get up, get dressed and follow us”, the man closest said flatly. Felicia nodded as sleep resided and her mind assimilated what was happening. “What is…” she started to ask. “Get up, get dressed and follow us”, the woman repeated. Felicia stared at her, then looked to the man. Eyes wide, jaws clenched, nervously shifting weight between feet and sweat beading their foreheads yet the night was cool. They were scared. Now she was scared. “Sure”. She pulled the covers away from her. She was fully dressed. A lifetime of living a moment from death, of always needing to be ready to fight or flee was difficult to put aside. If the two figures were surprised they did not show it. They made room for her as she moved slowly and carefully towards the door, their weapons never leaving her. She opened the door and found several more armed men and women outside together with an angry Mattaus. The young man was grinding his teeth as his gaze flicked between the people surrounding him. He moved quickly and suddenly towards her and everyone tensed, fingers tightening on triggers, muscles bunching, eyes narrowing. “Easy!” he exclaimed, holding his hands high in the air. “What’s going on?” Felicia asked, staring at all of the guns aimed at the both of them. “As if you don’t know” one of the women snarled staring down the scope of her rifle. One of the men put his arm out in front of her, palm open. “We don’t know anything for sure, Gemma”. “James…” “Enough”, James ordered and the woman immediately fell silent. He was obviously in command. His gaze also did not waver from survivors. “Hausen is in the medical wing. You are going to join him and remain there”. “Why? Why the hell…” “Because we will shoot you if you try anything”, Gemma stated flatly cutting Mattaus off. James motioned for Felicia and Mattaus to walk along the corridor ahead of him. “Move”. Mickey placed a finger against his earpiece. “Ok, they are all in the medical centre”. His voice echoed slightly in the tunnel. Petrisen nodded. “We don’t know what’s happening or if they have anything to do with this. Make sure they are treated ok”. “Bloody funny coincidence”. Petrisen ignored him, though he also harboured doubts and concerns. After so many years suddenly them and now this. Whatever this was. He gestured around him and a dozen men and women spread-out around the train platform, weapons aiming down the corridor. “If its Fallen they are going to cut right through us”, Mickey hissed. Petrisen swallowed and touched his own earpiece. “Garten, you locked it down yet?” As if in answer a screeching, grating noise came from the corridor behind them, finally ending in a loud crash. “Locked down”, Garten acknowledged. “That’s not going to stop them either”, Mickey said under his breath. “Those doors are to prevent fire, animal escape. They won’t stop Dregs knives or Vandals blades”. “It’s all we have, Mickey. Enough, concentrate on what’s about to happen” Petrisen replied flatly. Everyone could hear the train approaching now. A low grumbling that soon filled their ears. The platform shook slightly, the thick layers of dust that had settled from lack of use rising into the air. The tunnel began to lighten, the darkness being pushed aside by the carriage lights. Suddenly the train came into view, its front lamps blazing brightly. “It’s here!” a young man shouted nervously. Hands grew slick on tightly grasped weapons as sweat wet palms. Breath caught. Hearts pounded. Many of them had never fought outside of training exercises. The prospect of battling Fallen in the small underground space terrified them all. The train slowed as it entered the open station. Tears stung the young man’s eyes. A woman began to shake, her rifle jerking in her hands. Someone started to pray. The train stopped. With a loud crack the doors peeled apart. The young man cried out and fired into the interior. Suddenly everyone was firing. The sound was deafening as round after round hammered into the carriage. Interior lights exploded and seats burst under the barrage, hurling their pulverised foam innards into the air like twisted pollen. The plastic and metallic train shell was ripped apart, pelting the men and women causing the destruction and coating the platform in apocalyptic snow. Cartridges emptied, were ejected and new ones slammed into place so the violence could continue. “ENOUGH! STOP! STOP! EVERYONE CEASE FIRE! STOP FIRING!” slowly Petrisen’s voice reached each of the men and women and one after weapons were lowered. Silence consumed them. Noone moved. Slowly, carefully, nervously, Petrisen moved closer to the destroyed carriage. He took a deep breath and rushed inside. “Oh my god” he gasped. “What is it? What do you see?” Mickey shouted, his voice tight with fear. Petrisen’s rifle fell to point at the floor. He raised a finger to his ear, swallowing to work moisture back into his mount. “Garten, get Alfren”. “What happened?” Garten immediately replied. “Casualties? Do we have people hurt? How many? Whats happening? Did they get through?” “It’s not us that’s hurt. You are not going to believe this”, Petrisen replied in an awed whisper as he stared at the Guardian’s body.