Just remembered the silly message I put in the last chapter. It was a pain for even myself to go back and look for it, my apologies:P If you find the 13th word in every 13th paragraph thingy for 13 times, it should say 'Does the earth exist when the world fails indifferently and leaves everything behind?' Yhup, that's it. Thanks for reading!

My heart seemed to be beating to an unfamiliar beat. It was harder, and it sort of fluttered. My body felt lethargic and shaky. I knew we shouldn't have been outside. My body knew it.

"Sir," I prodded with a growing irritation. It was becoming increasingly difficult to be polite. "Sir, can we talk about this for a second? You still haven't told me anything about what to look for when we get to the city. We aren't ready to leave yet. Do you really think it's safe to be outside, so far from the house? What if something happens?"

The towering scientist exhaled a small sigh and patted my shoulder as we walked. "Miss Mena, clearly you have never dabbled in the arts of smelling the roses."

"What you call smelling the roses, I call unnecessary procrastination," I muttered under my breath.

The house that dwelled under a jungle of plants was now out of sight. We trotted down a path, which was really just a line of flattened grass made from Kevin's frequented wanderings around the property. He spoke about the community of various species of plants around us, (some of which he apparently planted) but I kept my gaze to the ground. I was trying to understand the deal between him and Nelson. The young and rather strange kid stuck to the man with a fascination like glue.

I wasn't sure if it was paranoia left over from the first sticky encounter with the soldiers roaming the forest, but I didn't trust that we were completely safe. There wasn't really a safe escape anymore or at least a way where I could ensure Nelson's safety.

Dusk was a glittering fairy that visited the trees. Golden particles knitted themselves into the air. The last rays of sunlight swelled and burst in exploding joy as we came upon a small opening in the forest.

I stopped, craning my neck and teetering on my tip toes. Above Kevin's fat head, I could see sunlight splashing off of a large panel of glass.

"Here we are, children. First stop along the way is the greenhouse," Kevin announced as he spread his arms out. "Take a peek inside as we go around, there are some wondrously horrid things inside. I lost the key to go in, but as you'll see, that might have been a rather fortunate misfortune."

Partly lit up with interest, I eyed the greenhouse. From the distance, it looked quite ordinary. Glass panels reflected the slushy sunlight, and fluffy vines suckled on the smooth frames around it. These vines looked more like octopus tentacles. The small building was oval shaped, and stretched up to kiss the sky in a grimy dome. A rusted weathervane balanced precariously on top like a ballerina dancing on one leg.

"What's inside?" Nelson inquired; the first words he spoke for a while. I was beginning to see how much the kid lived inside his mind.

"Good question, son. Go, take a look."

Son?

I wanted to dismiss the greenhouse, but I couldn't fight my curiosity. There was still so much I needed to know.

Kevin smiled as I broke and gravitated for the glass.

I stepped up to it, crunching into the dry dying grass. Lifting a hand to the glass, I wiped a handful of dust. I peered through the streak of clean and tried to distinguish what was inside.

Plants were exploding, quite literally, all over in symphony. It was what looked like assorted ferns and intricate flowers all had these sickly bubbling liquids oozing from their pores. If plants even had pores. I didn't feel like asking Kevin about that.

Peering closer, I noticed movement. At first, I stepped back in horror at the thought that the plants were alive and peculiarly prowling the room, but that wasn't the case. Under second consideration, I could see that there were animals crawling about in there. Squirrels. Except that they didn't act the way squirrels do anymore at all. They weren't in constant panic and distress. In fact, they seemed to simply be socializing amongst themselves, and nibbling on little peanuts that were scattered and torn to bits on the floor.

A plant close to my view spontaneously spurted a glob of sticky glop. I stepped back and shook my head. Nelson’s whole face was pressed up against the glass, almost as though he was trying to fit his tiny body through the cracks.

"Kevin," I started, trying to sound poised, "what's going on in there?"

The man shook his head, and then placed a hand to his chin. He stroked it in wonderment as his serious expression peeled off and revealed his pride. "It's bizarre, really. The way natural wildlife is responding to the change, it's quite spectacular. Of course, this was never my field. My wife would have been absolutely thrilled to answer your questions. You'll have to be content with my hardly sufficient knowledge of the wondrous world of flora and fauna."

I stared at him blankly, realising that he had yet to answer my question. I knew the reason why I was so content with life in the lethargic and quite crude little city was because everything was straight to the point. Needed something? Work hard and maybe you'll get it. Need an answer? Find the person to tell you, and you'll get only what you ask for, if even that. People like Kevin, however, hate the perfectly insane little rut we all fall into. Because they can't stand that system. They like to live inside and with only themselves, so that they could dwell in their own madness.

"So, what's wrong with them?"

"Oh right. Nelson? What do you think?"

I wanted to throw my hands up to the sky and shrug my shoulders and shout 'Nelson, could you tell me which way I should breathe? Inhale, exhale? Or exhale inhale? I would love your insight!' I didn't understand the kid, nor did that scientist, nor was it important.

I smiled and nodded, turned my gaze to the young boy instead. I was the one who brought him here, I reminded myself.

"They're different. They’re learning," Nelson said.

I stared at him. The squirrels, he meant? They were chattering like there was no tomorrow. Yes they were different in the sense that they weren’t nervous and concealed like animals usually were around people, but I couldn’t see how they were learning.

The scientist was silent. He watched the young boy in all seriousness.

"Are they hurt?" the small question prodded.

"Oh no, not to my knowledge anyways. They climbed through a hole on the other side, never really felt like coming out. Maybe it’s warm in there."

I shook my head. "They seem fine. Animals nowadays are more anxious, aren't they? What's wrong with them?"

My thoughts immediately turned to the strange encounter with Nelson and his band of animal friends. Maybe he was part mouse or something.

"You're right, mostly. Countless organisms have been affected by the deterioration in society. It's actually a very complicated process, what has happened, and what is still happening. But it isn't just us that have been hurt from it. That would explain the anxious behaviour in the animals near your home, but these squirrels are changed."

"Changed?"

Nelson turned his obsessive gaze from the greenhouse. "They learned how to be different. Did they teach themselves?"

Kevin cleared his throat for a moment. We stood and waited for the sickly noises to seize from his throat. "For the sake of humanity, I hope you're right Nelson." He let another pause leak into the conversation. "Alright then," suddenly perking up, "let's carry on now."

We continued on, slipping past the greenhouse and through a heavy blanket of green. Kevin went on about the exploding plants, apparently another defensive mechanism certain creatures developed since the ‘deterioration in society’.

Soon Kevin stopped in a small clearing, and paused a moment to let us look around. I breathed in a light breath of air. It was sweet and moist, and it kind of went slowly down through my lungs as if it had weight.

My gaze fell onto an early looking grand piano. Lost and withered appearing, it stood in the middle of the clearing like a solemn little child cast out and abandoned. It was neglected. Weather beaten and quite distasteful. It was a curious and unsettling sight in the forest.

I stole a glance at Nelson. He stood there in unfathomable stillness. I wondered if he was even breathing. His eyes were still crystallized and glittering, but they were clouded over with frothiness.

Around the perimeter of the circle, there were cages in the trees. Bird cages. Some were small; others quite large. Some of them were boxy; others had interesting and intricate shapes to them. They were all metal and clinging to the branches. They were all empty and open, like the typical teenage heart.

"This was Claudette's clearing," Kevin said finally.

I took another glance around. A dying piano silently wept a symphony, but to an audience of escaped prisoners. Ghosts haunted the circle with open mouths, whispering, but not much else.

"Your wife," I openly assumed only to break the silence that fed my overactive imagination.

"Yes." It was as if a shadowy hand was squeezing Kevin's face, sucking up whatever light he had left inside of him. To ignore his sadness, like a proper human being, he changed the subject. "Do you play?" he asked, gesturing to the piano.

I shook my head. I haven't even seen a piano in real life before. Not a lot of people cared about music anymore. All the chiming melodies and looping lines lost their meaning. To me especially. It never held any meaning or happiness. There were a few people who listened to it though, but their reasons were unknown to me. Hugh for example. People weirder than normal.

"You mind if I?" Kevin asked politely.

I was slightly taken aback. His character seemed to have shifted. I watched him bounce his weight back and forth on his feet.

I nodded exaggeratedly.

Kevin slipped onto the incredibly creaky bench. It groaned under his weight, but almost as though it was happy to have company. He bent his bony fingers, clenching them into a hard ball of anger, then relaxed and stretched them out like little bird wings.

Almost bashfully, his hands swept over the fading keys. Hesitating and dancing in the air, he let a moment pass by to breathe.

I swallowed as I waited. Checking on Nelson, he seemed not to have moved a muscle. Except for his eyes, which were focused hard on Kevin's hands.

A couple of sounds slipped into the air. Like a small group of friends going out for the night. More of the delicate sounds were sung and strung, out like chain unbroken.

Kevin's thin lips began to move, holding invisible words that were prisoners inside only his knowledge.

There must have been words to the song, but I didn't think that they mattered. They might not have been lost to Nelson, but having me present to hear the melodic story would probably ruin the magic for them both.

When the song was finished, the notes slowed and finally seized. So did Kevin. His hands slowed and slipped away from the keys.

He sighed a delicate sigh.

"Nelson? Would you like to try?" he asked curiously.

To my surprise, I felt genuine interest in the boy's musical abilities. I looked over at Nelson, who still hadn't moved much from his statued spot in the ground. He was unlike me, and didn't pace and rock back and forth.

"Sure," he said finally. "I could try, I suppose."

The young child shuffled forwards, approaching the piano. Kevin scooted to make room on the bend, and let Nelson hesitantly slide on beside him.

I stepped closer, giving myself a better view of Nelson face. It was cool and clear, like a silvery pool of water that couldn’t ripple. His eyes swept over the set of old piano keys, which were like a cracking set of teeth ready to peel back and sing.

"Oh, these aren't like buttons. I see now, it wouldn't make sense for the sound to come from these. The sound comes from inside there, doesn't it?" Nelson's eyes crumpled up in question, inspecting the piano, and then Kevin.

"No," he replied with a smug smile, "you're right. The sound actually comes from inside the body. You haven’t seen a piano before, have you?" Kevin pointed to the wide body, closed and scratched. "See, inside there, all the keys are connected to a series of hammers, which when activated, hit strings that make -"

"Can we open it? I'm sure my playing won't be up to your standards, but I'd like to hear what it would sound like if it was amplified."

Stunned, Kevin starred at Nelson.

"Yes, yes, of course! It doesn't sound the way it used to for sure, but opening it would definitely make it louder."

Kevin got up and fumbled with the wooden lid, pegging it in place. He nodded at Nelson, and I just starred.

Nelson gazed at the open piano, cracked open like a broken heart, and nodded his head. He murmured thanks to Kevin and turned back to the creamy keys.

"Have you never seen a piano before, Nelson?"

He shook his head.

"Just take a shot."

His small hand approached the keys, not timidly, but curiously. Slowly, he pressed down on a key. It sent a light stream of sound through the air, as if it were a single voice declaring its place.

We watched carefully as Nelson brushed though some experimental playing. He seemed satisfied with the sounds he was able to produce, and began combining them like they were ingredients to a dish.

Nelson's playing then grew heavier. It echoed into the clearing and swished around the trees. The thunderous notes beat in my chest. All the thunder and heavy bashing synched together, knitting into a neat but peculiar piece of music that twisted and danced.

At first, it was rather simple. A slow melody that circled and folded in pattern.

His fingers were spread out like a fan, and it fluttered up and down the board. It was like a magnetic pull was guiding his hands to each key, to each group of keys to pound, but it wasn't. There must have been something inside of him that guided him to each sound. The melody plummeted unexpectedly, only to ascend heavenly and scramble this way and that.

Kevin and I exchanged glances. He smiled. I looked away.

Nelson seized his playing, killing the mysterious unseen creature that was strolling through the clearing.

It was silent for a moment before Nelson said: "I like this piano."

Kevin chuckled weakly. "Do you?"

Nelson nodded.

Neither of us knew what to say exactly.

"Your wife played the piano?" Nelson asked.

Kevin nodded. "She used to bring her birds out here too. She had so many birds, and they'd always sing so loudly. They'd chirp and sing along as she played."

Nelson smiled at that.

"I should have guessed that you had absolute pitch. You're good."

Nelson opened his mouth to form a question on that, but stopped mid-sentence. His face was still and silent, with only his eyes moving apprehensively around the forest.

"Nelson," I said. "What's wrong?"

He ignored my question, perfectly still and silent. He held his breath.

I turned around to the curtain of trees that began the forest. The forest swelled, breathing in the cool wind. There were no stirrings, however. No flickers of movement. Only smooth and steady breathing.

 "Nelson?" Kevin asked, "Is there something out there?"

There was a wave of silence more powerful than a tsunami. The absence of sound ripped through my ears, pounding on the insides of my brain.

Something was incredibly wrong and I didn't know what.

"Nelson?" I pleaded, backing up towards him. "Nelson! What's going on?" I grabbed his shoulder, squeezing it and shaking it in the hopes of getting a reply. My desperation bubbled.

"Mena," Kevin said. He placed a finger to his lips, silencing my troubled demands.

I gulped and locked eyes on him for a moment.

That's when I finally heard it.

Bang.

An echoed pop zipped through the forest, exploding in blistering noise.

My breath got caught in my throat, and we all fell to our knees, hiding in the ground.

"Mena," Kevin hissed. He waved me over to the two of them under the piano. I swiftly scrambled over to them and looked to Kevin with wide eyes. "They're back."

I could've told him that, but it wasn't exactly important to point it out.

"What do we do?" I murmured, watching the trees as if they themselves would rip their roots from the soil and gobble us down.

I received a pair of grave expressions.

Kevin kept his voice low as he bored his eyes into mine. "You two have to leave. Now."

I knew it wasn't safe out away from the house. Why didn't he listen to me? I wanted to ask him, ridicule him for the stupid mistake.

The distant calls of deep voiced soldiers became audible. The mere sound of it made my blood thicker as it slowly pumped through my body.

"They'll stop at nothing to protect their city. If you go back the way we came, you'll find a pathway that leads to the shoreline. My boat will be there. You can take that, and will ensure your safety to the city," Kevin murmured. His face twitched with anxiety.

I shook my head. "I won't know what I'm doing. I need my map, my bag, I'm not prepared," I whispered hastily. I couldn't think of a situation where everything was okay.

"What about you?" Nelson piqued from behind me, watching the scientist.

Kevin bit his lip. "I'll be fine, Nelson. Don't worry about me. Mena, I prepared the boat this morning. All your supplies are in there."

My brows knitted together, and I couldn't say anything for a moment. "You...you knew they'd run into us?"

Did he plan for this to happen?

He didn't say anything to that. His blank face was enough answer to my question.

"But why? Why'd you take us out here then?"

Kevin's answer was cut off by the shouting of a man just hidden by the trees in front of us.

"Get out of here. Now," he seethed, pushing us out from underneath the bench. Kevin stood up in a strong position, trying to show what little muscle he had on his otherwise bony frame.

I pushed Nelson ahead of me, hating the only option we had with a fierce passion. I could taste the ugly bitterness in my mouth and wanted to heave it out from inside of me.

"Go, Nelson!" I hollered, urging him farther. I stopped in my tracks and whipped around, seeing the hideous and frightening sight of a dozen men crowding around Kevin.

The scientist didn't cower before the daunting sight, only stood and circled the ever growing pack of people. He gazed at them all with a distinct glimmer of fear in his eyes, but stood firm and sturdy.

One approached him, weapon drawn and jabbed threateningly at his ribs. In a monstrous voice dripping with greed, he growled. "Where are the others?"

I dove into the bush, careful to make no sound. Nelson was no where to be found, off in the direction he was sent.

"They've left this morning. You're too late," Kevin snarled. His eyes were no more intimidating than his wiry frame. Fuming anger did not dwell in his eyes, only the sparkling horror.

The soldier whacked him with the weapon against his head, and the sickly sound replayed in my head.

Kevin flinched and cowered, keeping his head low to hide the pain from his face.

"You think I'm stupid? You could hear the brat a mile away!" He whacked him again, this time by swinging the rifle into the side of Kevin's head.

He reacted. A sudden burst of violence ripped through the old scientist, and his curled fist connected with the soldier's mouth.

I watched as the burly man stumbled back, shocked at the scientist's capabilities. Sticky blood flew through the air like a sparkling fairy spilling outwards for vengeance.

"I said, they left. Early this morning. You're too late."

Kevin towered before them, watching them in soberness. All was still in that moment. They all watched the scientist with nothingness etched on their faces.

The first soldier glared at Kevin, hardly looking away when he gave another soldier in the background a slight nod.

That was when one single person broke from the frozen frame. A single weapon lifted and shot a single bullet. It lodged in Kevin's still heart, and he crumpled to the ground like a piece of paper in the hands of a giant.

My mind saw him fall in slow motion, where his eyes were still open and looking. There was no agony to be seen on his dying face. He looked at me, hidden in the bushes. "Go," he mouthed.

I gulped, watched his old body fall into a pile on the ground, right beside his deceased wife's piano.

“No,” I chocked out in a whisper.

There I backed away, unseen and unheard, which almost means invisible. I ran away into the woods after the boy no one understood, and away from the dead scientist we all did too much.