Amanda asked, "Guess what?" We were sitting in the darkness at the park, enjoying our especially lengthy day. The nights here aren't exactly like the nights in our world. They have the heat of the day, but not the light. Amanda continued, "My mom found the viewer, and now she thinks I've joined the Reds. I'm not gonna be able to bring a lot of stuff home anymore. Do you think I could keep stuff at your house?"

"No way," I told her. "My mom would flip, too."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," She looked at her watch. "Well, I gotta go home. My mom wants to take me to the Gang Consultant. It's so stupid, but I gotta play along. How else could I explain all the new stuff, right?"

I laughed, agreeing with her. She got up off of the warm grass, and walked away, calling her goodbyes. We always came to The Other first, then walked to the park to meet each other. It was safer that way.

I decided to go shopping. It had been a long time since I'd gone alone, and sometimes I missed it. It was always so quiet and peaceful. Amanda was a great friend, but she talked too much sometimes.

I let myself in the front doors, pointing my index finger at the security guards and cameras,pretending to shoot. I squinted as my eyes adjusted to the lighting. Before I met Amanda, I used to sneak in on all fours, holding my pistol out in front of me, being as quiet as possible. Being with Amanda made me feel safe. This time, though, I wasn't with Amanda, and that's how the Scouts surprised me.

"You!" a commanding male voice yelled as soon as I got into the main part of the arena. "Stop where you are!"

I froze in my tracks next to a still couple and their baby. I felt indistinguishable from the others,and prayed that the stranger wouldn't notice me. That prayer was not answered.

One boy, maybe twenty years old, came out from behind the sandwich stand pointing an automatic weapon directly at my head. Two others, another younger girl with stringy hair and a boy of about sixteen years old, came out from the other side of the arena, holding similar weapons. "Where is your weapon? I'm coming to take it from you, don't move," the first boy commanded.

"In my holster, at my back," I answered. I meant it to sound calm, but my voice shook as I spoke.

The other two trained their weapons on me while the boy came around behind me to remove my gun. They all looked nervous, but aside from the weapons, they didn't look dangerous.

"Got it," the boy behind me said to the others, "Walk to the back of the arena, now, no sudden moves," he said to me. I moved, slowly.

"Who are you?" I asked, "How long have you been coming here?"

"Shut up," the boy said, "You may get lucky and get your questions answered for you if you do as I say." He was clearly the one in charge.

I walked along in silence, my hands raised over my head, to the rear of the large arena. At some points, it was difficult to get around the crowds, and the other two captors would tilt people out of the way to let us by. They had much more luck with returning the people to their original positions than I had. They had obviously done this before.

When I got to the back of the arena, I noticed people moving about. "All of these people are here, in The Other," I thought in wonder, and it eased my apprehension a bit. That is, until the tall boy pacing near the front of the group turned his face to me.

"Who are you? What is your name?" he barked at me. He was tall, towering at least a half-meter above me, and I was by no means short. He wore all black, most of it leather. I immediately noticed his oversized leather boots, complete with steel tips. His hair was short, obviously not cut by a professional, and dyed black. It was his face, however, that caused me to stop in my tracks and not venture any further towards him. He was very pale, with pock marks covering every spot of his face. One of his heavy eyebrows was missing, and in its place there was an old scar. A bullet wound, from a bullet that nearly took the top of his head off. It looked old, but it looked like he was still really pissed about it. Maybe it gave him his power.

"Candice," I replied, supplying him with no further information. I raised my head, not my eyes,to look at him fully. I felt strong. "Who the hell do you think you are?"

He laughed in my face, as did some of the others. I was not provided with a name, though I found out soon enough he was William Peevy, known to all as only "Billy."

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