Malia followed Carson to the CIC, her mind spinning. They weren’t ready for this, not yet. They had a plan, they needed to prepare...that didn’t matter anymore. As they pair reached the CIC, Malia immediately got to work strapping on her harness and her belt, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration. She pulled back her hair, she didn’t want it getting in the way, and she definitely didn’t want anyone grabbing it. Her eyes flickered over to Carson as he readied himself as well, endless thoughts swirling through her mind. If they didn’t win, or if...no, she couldn’t think like that. They’d be alright, both of them would. She was further convinced when he took her hand, reminding her of what they have waited for them after this. She gave his hand a tight squeeze, kissing his knuckles. “I love you, so much.” With that, she spun around, hot on his heels as they both pushed through the doors out of the CIC.<br/><br/>What Malia didn’t expect was to be grabbed by the arm, torn away from Carson, and promptly thrown back into the CIC. She fell flat on her back, her knife leaving her hand and sliding across the floor. While Sarah was busy taughting Carson, Malia scrambled up, snatching the knife from the ground, before finally turning to face the crazed woman in front of her. Sarah circled her, her voice reaching livid ears as Malia gripped her knife, so tight her knuckles were white. This was her. This was who killed him, who killed Oliver. And she was going to pay for that. Malia slowly reached for the gun that resided in her waistband, her fingers finding the grip.<br/><br/>“You killed Oliver, and you’re going to pay for that.” Malia’s voice was a snarl, her eyes hardened and narrowed as she stared this woman in the eyes. Sarah laughed, and Malia growled, before the two each made their first move. Malia had her eyes on the twisted knife. If that caught her skin, she had a feeling the flesh wound would be the least of her worries.<br/><br/>Sarah lunged for Malia, the long, twisted knife leading her swing, but Malia blocked that with her own long blade, the blades colliding. Malia shoved Sarah away with her strength, before stepping into her. She swung her blade down, but Sarah swung up. Malia had both hands on her long blade, however, and Sarah still had a free hand to wield. With that free hand, the Hunter brought up her other blade, the metal slicing across Malia’s shoulder. The Runner recoiled in pain, but that hardly slowed her down. The blood soaked her shirt, and she didn’t have time to reach for her gun before a solid kick was delivered to her chest.<br/><br/>Malia stumbled back, but the table behind her caught her before she could fall. Her chest throbbed from her boot, but Malia quickly  recovered, sliding around the other woman. Her back was to the door, and she could hear Carson against the other few just outside the door. She had to finish this, she had to get to him. And the only thing standing in the way was Sarah. “You obviously don’t know anything about me.” With a wicked smile, Malia Lunged for the woman, ducking down and slamming into her body shoulder-first.<br/><br/>Sarah fell to the ground, and Malia straddled her, her knees pinning the woman’s wrists to the floor. She went to bring her knife around, but Sarah butted her head forward, her forehead connection with Malia’s. It stunned her enough to allow Sarah to roll on top of her. Malia struggled under her as Sarah pulled her smaller knife from her belt.<br/><br/>“Well, since I’ve got you here...” Sarah tauntingly dragged her blade across Malia’s cheek, marking her, blood trailing down her skin. Malia growled, but that did nothing to quell Sarah.<br/><br/>The Hunter then took her knife in one hand. “Try and save your lover now.” She then drove her knife into Malia’s thigh, and a scream of agony ripped from the Runner’s throat. It echoed out of the room and into the hallway, and a grin spread across Sarah’s face. “It’s going  to be so much fun picking you apart piece by piece.”<br/><br/>Malia used Sarah’s distracted moment to twist her hand, gripping the small pistol that rested by her side. Before Sarah could dig her knife into any other piece of her, she ripped her arm free and whipped the pistol across Sarah’s head. After the Hunter fell to the side, Malia kicked her with her good leg, sending her onto the ground. Malia tried to push herself off the floor, but Sarah was back on her in a moment, grabbing the hand that held the weapon. She used both her hands to twist the handle of the gun, the iron pressing to Malia’s head. Sarah’s face lit up in another smile, but that smile faded just as quickly as it came. Sarah sputtered, her eyes slowly flickering behind her, to the place in her back where Malia dug her knife into the soft flesh.<br/><br/>Sarah’s grip loosened on the gun, and Malia used that moment to pushed her back. Sarah lay on the floor, gasping for air. Malia shakily stood, both hands gripping the pistol as she slowly fitted her aim into the woman’s chest.<br/><br/>“You shouldn’t have killed my brother, bitch.” With that, Malia pulled the trigger, firing once. Then twice, then three times. She would’ve emptied the damn thing if she hadn’t expected to use it again.<br/><br/>Malia watched Sarah’s body still, the blood pool around her growing. She wiped her cheek on her sleeve, her chest heaving. She took once step towards the door, nearly collapsing with the limp that accompanied her step. She stopped for a moment, finding one of Carson’s spare shirts, ripping the sleeve from it. She’d just make him another if he needed it. She then tightly wrapped the fabric around her leg, pulling it tight, nearly crying out from the pain. But the pain didn’t matter, she had to keep going. She wouldn’t be able to defend herself with this leg, she needed to get somewhere safe to properly handle the wound in her thigh.<br/><br/>Malia limped from the CIC, pushing the door open. There was blood just outside, but she was certain it didn’t belong to Carson. She followed the trail, holding the wall. She couldn’t show herself so weak, but she had no choice. She lifted her gun to a Hunter that seemed to have pulled from the pack, easily taking the man down. Blood dripped from her leg, and she slumped against the wall, needing just a moment to rest. Then her eyes landed on blonde hair, and a familiar young boy.<br/><br/>Max.<br/><br/>Malia’s heart sunk. Max had betrayed them, Max was the reason this battle was even happening, but he was a kid. He saved her life. For some reason that fact couldn’t leave her mind. Malia stumbled towards him, collapsing down next to him. He was still breathing, his eyes pained as his hand pressed to a wound in his stomach. She placed her hand over his, her other hand resting against the side of his face.<br/><br/>“Hey, hey, hey... shh...” her eyes were wide as she looked around them, seeing they were alone. “You’re going to be fine, you’ll be alright. I’m going to get you to TRIM, just hang in there.” Malia went to standing with him, but Max gripped her arm, shaking his head.<br/><br/>Malia stared at him, opening her mouth to object, but he simply held her hand tighter. “I’m s-sorry. S-so s-sorry..” Max choked on the blood that trickled from the corner of his lips, and Malia sat down fully, gently pulling his body into her lap. She wanted to pick him up, but she couldn’t.<br/><br/>“Don’t do that, you’ll be fine. You made really, really big mistakes, but we can work past that. You have to stay with me.” She looked up, her eyes frantically searching for Carson. He would be able to get Max to TRIM. Though she couldn’t find the Strider anywhere. She looked back down to Max, moving the hair from the young boy’s forehead. Now she knew that he wouldn’t make it. Without TRIM, he wouldn’t make it. So instead of fighting him, she tried to make him as comfortable as possible. “Don’t think about it, okay?” Her voice was sweet. She didn’t know why, but her heart hurt for him. “Focus on me, you’ll be alright.”<br/><br/>Max began to control his breathing, his heart rate slowly dropping. Malia knew this, and he did as well. She didn’t know who did this, whether it be a Hunter or a Runner, but he wasn’t making it out of this battle. Malia held him until his hand slipped from hers, her blue eyes closing, never to open again. He died in her arms as she sat against the wall, cradling the body of the boy who made the wrong decisions. And the fire burned bright. She wanted this to end.