When Drugs Take Over

When Drugs Take Over

The year is 2025.
You're working against the government in an underground movement.
You're risking your life for people who don't even know they're in trouble.

Most drugs that are currently illegal in the United States (as of 2014) have been legalized by the government, who are also now releasing new medication by the day "in an effort to simplify the lives of America's citizens".

Around 2017, the government got smarter and realized that with each new drug legalized, people became more dependent on the government. This gave them more control. Seizing the opportunity after the legalization of marijuana, the government gave grants to doctors who could find "medical uses" for more powerful drugs and then released these "findings" as support for their legalization. Even more money was given for the creating of "everyday stress reduces" that are more dangerous than Vicodin. Most of America hopped on the bandwagon, and by nearly every American citizen was taking several of these "medications". The government is slowly seizing complete control.

An underground revolution called the Cathartic movement has begun to bring down members of the government who are sponsoring the legalization and medication movement. It's members, formally called Caths, are divided into groups located in major cities around the United States. This storybook will focus on a group in Boston, Massachusetts.

More about Caths:

Spoiler

Typically, a group of Caths is arranged with a leader, a second in command, and a head of defense. All other members rank below these three. Caths can either have a permanent residence or be travelers. For convenience sake, ours will have a semi-permanent residence.

In the Caths, these are two types of members, Purists (who refuse to take any medication at all, or consume alcohol), and the Spoiled (who will consume alcohol and/or take medication when needed). Those who are Spoiled are generally healthier, but are seen by other members as not completely loyal to the cause. Many Purists have died from illness that could have been treated with simple medications.

Character Template:

Spoiler

CodeSelect all

[b]Name:[/b]
[b]Age:[/b] (19-40)
[b]Gender:[/b]
[b]Appearance: [/b](Description and Picture)
[b]Purist/Spoiled:[/b]
[b]Personality (Strengths):[/b]
[b]Personality (Weaknesses):[/b]
[b]Mannerisms:[/b] (Any quirks? Things your character always does? Things they love/hate?)
[b]Short Bio:[/b]
[b]Up For Love:[/b]
[b]Other:[/b]


Plot Notes:

Spoiler

* I'd like to have someone play a double agent who is also on the side of the government.
* Caths are often helped and funded by locals that are supportive of the cause but who do not want to go underground. This group is helped by a local press owner (a former Cath himself) and a church minister (Father Peter) who owns the building that they live in.
* Father Peter is an NPC, but someone is more than welcome (and encouraged) to play the press owner. Maybe he/she even reverts to the cause?
* Notes will be added here as needed.

Spots:

Spoiler

Leader- @DiagonalBluebird (Boone Larazo)
Second in Command- @Skydreamer (Bella E. Markson)
Head of Defense- @IamTraunt (Delphine Dawsey)
Double Agent- @Baesch (Sam Tenant)
Press Owner- @megsug (Isabel Varela)
Other Member- @Nightcrawler (Johnny J. Blake)
Other Member-
Other Member-
Other Member-

Just a reminder, please post claims for character spots in the DT thread. Thanks!

Alright! Here we go!

Boone Larazo-Leader

Boone couldn't begin to fathom what part of the instructions he had given earlier that day were unclear.

Get the information we need. Be back by two- I sure as hell don't feel like being up late another night. Radio me if you won't be back by then.

It was three a.m.

Boone had sent Bell, Tenant, and Johnny out to get information they'd be using to track Medicorp Inc's government liaison over the next month. Samuel Wales was in Boston for the next two months. There was more than enough reason to believe he was a major benefactor for the recent legalization of five new over-the counter medications that had already lead to thousands of deaths from overdose. Reasonable evidence aside, Boone hated the guy. Read enough of his mindless babbling in the newspaper to hope he chocked on a bottle of his own medication. The guy made him mad. Mad enough to force Boone to request that- if at all possible- he'd be the one to conclude the life of Samuel Wales.

From behind him he heard the light footsteps of Isabel. She had decided to come stay the evening with the few who were left back at the house, as she often did when half the group were sent out on search missions, "You look like you're about to burst, Boone, would some coffee help?"

Isabel set a cup in front of him, and took the seat immediately to his left from where he sat at the head of the large table. Boone nodded his thanks and immediately took a swig of the coffee.

"Bastards were supposed to be back an hour ago..." Boone took another long draw of the coffee. Decaf. Black. Served by a woman. Exactly the way he liked it.

The house was mostly quiet. He'd been too busy pouring over papers for the past few hours to notice where the others in the house were. If another hour passed he'd have to go out and look for the group he'd sent out. Boone would likely refrain from dragging the others along. After an incident in Providence last year he found he preferred to go searching alone, though it drove Del crazy when he did.

Boone smirked. It was fun driving Del crazy. Maybe he'd do it just for her reaction.

"Something funny?" Isabel was watching him with those big dark eyes of hers. Something about them unnerved him a bit. Boone's hand traced along the scar that ran down his neck with memories from last year in his mind still more fresh than that girl he'd picked up in Cancun one night.

"Just thinking about what Del would do if I went on another one-man search. Bossy Dawsey lost her mind last time." Boone chuckled under his breath, and threw Isabel a playful look, "I think I'll spare her the heart attack tonight," Boone let out a deep sigh, and leaned back, his eyes analyzing the clock on the wall, "maybe."

Sweat ran down my back in long trails and dripped from my enraged face, making me feel smothered and hot. Yet again, I was taking my anger out on the punching bag. Punch after punch, I slowly began to feel it's calming effects. Why take drugs when this does the trick? I thought to myself, going in for another swing. The Caths and their hate for lethal drugs were constantly on my mind. Everything else just pained me to think about.

My fist struck another blow, and I heard my breath rise and collapse. I continued to think about the information I absorbed when listening to Boone earlier on. The guy's name was Samuel Wales, and he was near the top of our list. He was soon to be crossed off. Every time we took down one of the people who supports the distribution of lethal drugs, the more urgent I felt to take down the next.

It took me awhile to get tired, as I had been doing this for quite some time. Constantly training to be my best. Tough on the outside, but admittedly, inside it hurt. Grabbing a towel that was strewn across the seat of the exercise bike, I flung it across my shoulders. Boone was probably still waiting for the three he had sent out earlier. I glanced at the clock. Three a.m.

The house was a little quieter than usual, the most likely answer was that Johnny was out. He didn't even know the definition of quiet, always bouncing around, being his usual hyperactive self. I leant against the wall, taking a sip of my water. Suddenly, I felt sorry for Bell, who was probably at wits end going on a mission with Johnny and Tenant. I sure as hell would be.

As I searched for Boone, I recalled the mission. It was fairly simple, just a quick get the information we need job. Two o'clock was their set time. I ground my teeth together, annoyed at their lack of punctuality. Soon I came across Isabel, who was sitting at the wooden table in the main room, sipping a cup of coffee while jotting down things in her notebook. When Isabel saw me, she offered a smile. I didn't return it.

"Where's Boone?" I questioned, glancing around. "He was here last time I saw him."

"Well..." began Isabel, who lifted her pen to her mouth to chew it, but quickly put it back down. "He went in search of the others."

I saw Isabel suck in her breath as I felt myself shake a little. I couldn't believe my ears. Boone went by himself? I thought, anger bubbling up inside of me. He knows what I'd say. Isabel was still sitting at the table, still watching, looking very small.

"Are you okay?" she asked. But she knew the answer. When it comes down to me, everyone knew if I'm okay or not. And it was mostly likely a no. I balled my fists, trying to at least numb some of the fury raging through me.

"That idiot!" I snapped, storming out of the room. All I could think about was what could happen, possibilities replaying in my mind over and over. The more it did, the angrier I get. Under my breath, I cursed and slammed my fist into the wall.

Spoiler

I have changed this to first person, as I prefer to do so.

It was insanely late to be craving coffee but that's all I could think about as we trudged down the street in the middle of the night.

Be back by two...

I gritted my teeth in memory of Boone's orders. He was such a cocky bastard. Sending us on orders while sitting back with Isabel doing his own thing. Probably drinking the coffee I so wanted right now. I shook my head as I continued on, my hands in my pockets. I wore a large hoodie on top of a shirt and jeans. It was all meant to blend, not make me conspicuous. I was in charge of this mission we were on to get information from Wales. It was a little intimidating having to get information from such a big character, especially since responsibility falls on me.

Also intimidating because we were given such a limited time frame to do it. We were simply lucky that his hotel was nearby the house we were staying in. Just a twenty or at most thirty minute walk. It had rained earlier in the evening the evident in the wet sidewalks that made squeaky sounds when rubbed with certain shoes. We treaded careful, the three of us, Tenant, Johnny and I. Johnny was a few feet ahead like he had been since we left the house. Personally I think he was beyond excited to be out of the basement. Actually on streets doing something edgy in the night. He could hardly contain himself. I rolled my eyes. Tenant was the opposite, slow but strangely alert. He was almost walking behind me.

"Are we going the right way?" I asked suddenly realizing I'd been lost in my thoughts and Johnny had the instructions since he was so eager to move faster.

Johnny stopped in his tracks, breathing hard. His messy hair was plastered to his face from the humidity and sweat of moving so quickly. Shaking the paper that held the instructions to the building they were headed to, he grinned.

"Of course we are. You doubt me, Bell? I'm disappointed."

With this, JJ ran ahead again, then turned to walk backwards, facing the two of us. His eyes were fluttered with excitement, and he pulled his switchblade out of his pocket. He jabbed a finger at the paper, now wrinkled and floppy from constant worry, then pointed to a high rise building at the end of the block.

"There it is, guys. Layson-Marrion Hotel."

Tenant and I looked up at the building. That was it. My heart beat a little just out of anticipation and some excitement. It had been a while since we really doing anything, well, risky, and that was always the best part of the "job". Drawing in a breath I took a step forward and we all walked the last leg towards the mission.

Once in the hotel the first thing I did was blend into the background. I barely made a sound with my feet as I walked easily behind Tenant and Johnny who I hoped and assumed gathered the most attention. Then, as they reached the front desk of the lobby, I check to see if anyone was looking, there were a couple of bell men standing around but they didn't really seem to be paying a lot of attention to me. I ducked down under the large marble table as the two of them started stalling and creeped to the other side.

I reached some huge plants and hid behind the fancy pots. Between the leaves of a mini palm tree I watched Johnny start to freak about something and a small smile crept on my face. His hands were flying in the air and he was screaming. And it was all I could not not to laugh when I saw Tenant trying to console him. As soon as most of the bell men seemed to completely concentrate on them as did any security I moved away from the plant and quickly ran towards the large "EXIT STAIRS" double doors at the end of the hall. I pushed through them and started to run up the stairs.

When I got to the first floor of rooms I quickly went checked for one of the little cleaning lady doors, when I found one I took a deep breath and knocked on the door to see if someone was inside. I actually for a moment hoped that no one was. If it was empty I would kick it open and find the keys and maybe any camouflage. Instead the door opened and a woman dressed in hotel clothes squeezed her brows in confusion and slight frustration. I wondered if anyone came to bug her about her cleaning in this way. I smiled at her.

"Sorry I forgot my uniform for the night shift could I borrow one of yours? And the keys?" She looked at me skeptically.

"I can't just give you the keys! You should have your own. How come I haven't seen you here before?!"

"Shhh, I'm new. I'm new." I told her quietly. She still looked like she wasn't giving in. I sighed. At least I tried. I quickly in a split second hit her right below her collarbone horizontally with a flat palm. She fainted and I caught her and set her in the room. The lights were on and it was bigger than I expected. Wasting no time I looked for any extra uniforms. Glad I found a few. I grabbed one and wore it. I took a male uniform just in case we needed it and then grabbed the stack of card keys.

After that I turned off the lights and placed her hand on her head so she would think she fainted. I couldn't erase memory though so I knew I had to lock her inside. It made me feel a bit guilty but I had no other choice. Before locking her up I took my pocket swiss army knife kit and drilled a few holes into the door. I didn't want to kill her if I forgot to come back. After setting it up the way it was before I arrived I shut the door and locked it. Then hurried off to the meeting place we decided upon, the elevator.

When I arrived Johnny and Tenant were already there and I grinned for the first time in a while.

"Ready?" I asked.

Johnny J. Blake

We are leaving. We are actually leaving. I'm leaving the basement. First time in years. A year. 365 days. 8765.81 hours. How many seconds...?

I shook my head and tried to refocus on the task at hand. Stupid ADHD. I hoped I could concentrate long enough to get through this mission. That would suck if I was the one to ruin it all. Like Mom.

Pulling the thought from my head through the pain of my scalp, pulling my hair, I focused on my surroundings. The other two, Bella and Tenant, were being slowpokes behind me. This city was drearier than New York, I felt. Not just that it rained a lot, but that there was not nearly enough night activity for my taste. In the old days I could leave the apartment and find any bar or club (that would ignore my age) to meet new people and party the night away. Party through the sleepless nights. Might as well do something, right? Here, it was just... quiet. It was strange.

I barely noticed that I had begun fiddling with my switchblade until I had sliced my finger. Sucking on it, I checked the instructions yet again and felt a surge of excitement. The hotel was right up ahead!

I babbled my finding to the other two, and we picked up the pace to the Layson-Marrion Hotel. What a strange name. I wondered what had caused such a well-off man to reside here. This hotel was nowhere near anywhere important in the city.

We entered the large revolving doors (I may have gone around one too many times) and approached the shiny front desk. It was very shiny. I immediately forgot what I was supposed to be doing and examined my lovely tattoos. I fixed my damp hair so that it stood straight up.

Hello, sexy.

Tenant growled under his breath and grabbed my wrist, yanking me towards the desk.

"Remember the plan," he murmured.

The plan. What plan? Oh, right. That plan. The one I had been waiting for for years. That one.

I wandered up to the receptionist and waited for him to get off the phone. He looked a bit older than I, with a clean-shaven face and large brown eyes. No tattoos, it looked. What a shame. He looked innocent. Naive. I hoped.

"Excuse me?" I made my voice thin and weak. He signaled me to wait. I bounced my leg, felt my impatient energies building up. That was good. All part of the plan.

He finally put the phone down and peered at me over the computer monitor.

"Yes?"

I crossed my arms over my chest and started shivering. I hunched over like I was in pain.

I felt Tenant place a calloused hand on my shaking back.

"We think he's going through withdrawal," he said urgently. "We are staying with a relative upstairs, his name is Sam Wales? He should have more of his fix."

The attendant glanced at me, a look of mild disgust and pity flashing over his features.

"Of course, sir. Do you have a key?"

"Forgot it with his meds. I'm so sorry for the trouble."

I shook harder, and cried out in pain. The full lobby directed their full attention towards me, hopefully away from whatever Bella was doing.

The man's eyes widened and he began typing furiously.

"Right on it, sir. Just a warning, I have to disconnect all other cards for room 523. Don't want unwanted visitors."

Well, that was ironic. I laughed, but turned it into a cough. I looked up at Tenant, and he glared at me, warning me not to mess this up.

"It hurts, Mr. Wales," I moaned. We were pretending that the two were brothers, or cousins, or something. I sank to rest on my heels, clutching my gut.

"Almost there," he replied shortly. We were close.

"Will he be alright to get to the room, sir?" the attendant stood and looked at me with concern.

"I'll get him there fine. He's probably overreacting."

I let out a sigh and straightened slowly. I held one hand over my stomach and waved the lobby's concern away. Oh, there were some pretty bellhops over there...

"I think it goes in phases," I murmured weakly.

The attendant practically threw the new card at us, in a hurry to keep me from throwing up in his lobby.

"Thank you, sir," Tenant growled, and slid a five dollar bill across the table. "Please don't tell my brother that we made such a mess. I hate to upset him."

The attendant just nodded, mystified. We were clear.

Shuffling to one of the many (shiny) elevators, I lunged to press the button first. God, why did I act like such a child?

Bella approached from behind. I hardly recognized her in the shapeless maid uniform. It did not compliment her at all. That was a shame.

She shoved the male uniform she was holding into Tenant's arms and grinned at us. Her sparkling smile made up for the ugly outfit. It lit up her whole face. And since it was in excitement about interrogating and maybe even killing someone, it was all the more attractive.

"Ready?"

The elevator gave a cheerful chime in response. Going up. Room 523, here we come.

Just so ya'll know, I won't be on for a few days, I'm going to be moving into my dorm room. Just have the others met up with Boone at some point and all head back to the base to recap the mission and information received.

Boone Larazo - Leader

Boone could think about nothing but the lack of a gun in his left pocket. His mother's gun had been taken from him in combat only a month ago, and every time he went out he could feel it's absence burning a hole into his cargo shorts. His other gun was tight in his hand now, shoved deep in his sweatshirt pocket. He hated having to walk around the streets like this.

Still, he knew the alleyways of Boston like no one ever could. He would've sat down and drawn out a map if he had the time or patience. Time and patience.

At the moment he had neither. Especially for this group. Bella, of all of them, should've known better. This was the last time he put a woman in charge of anything.

He checked his watch. It was four am.

Boone began to make his way up the fire escape on the backside of the hotel. If- and that was a big IF- Bella was sticking to the plan, they'd be exiting the building through the roof. Boone would wait twenty minutes and either catch them on their way out and provide backup, or enter the building himself.

Boone heard the rattle of the bolts on the fire escape, and immediately whipped out his gun, retreating behind one of those large metal infrastructures that occupied every roof and Boone had never bothered to learn the purpose of.

"Put your gun down, Boone, it's me." A familiar voice shot through the far off sound of sirens and cars passing on the street. He rolled his eyes. She knew him too well.

He let out a breath of air, somewhere between a sigh and a huff, and moved from behind the infrastructure, "Fancy seeing you here."

Boone walked over to offer his hand to Del as she climbed the last section of the wall. She waved his hand away and pulled herself over the top wall of the building, shooting him a nasty look.

"Out on your own little mission again?" Del hissed under her breath.

"You remember what happened in Providence. I'm not loosing another member. If anyone goes I'd rather have it be me." Boone took a deep breath to calm himself, and looked over at her, "I'm glad you're here though. I might end up needing you. If they don't come out this door in the next twenty minutes I'm heading in. I'd appreciate it if you came."

"That was almost sentimental, Boone. Did you take something?" Del laughed a little. He smirked in response, and flipped the gun over in his hand.

"Nah, just don't feel like dying tonight. not over this guy. We have far more important targets coming up in the next few months." And I don't want to leave Bella in charge.

@Skydreamer, @Baesch, @Nightcrawler. So, I've been trying to avoid getting involved with Tenant, Johnny and Bell because I don't know what your planning to do. I tried to tip toe around it so I don't interfere with what you were going to write and make happen. Soon I will find out Here goes!



Once white, my knuckles began turning deep red, patches of purples and blues making there way through. I wished that I hadn't punched the wall, as it stung like hell. But I was concentrating more on finding Boone and the mouth full I was going to give him. My head brimmed with insults although my anger was fading. Boone is going to be so sorry when I find him, I told myself.
The streets were empty and dark, the only light beaming from dim streetlamps. I took to the shadows, clutching my jacket for warmth. The night was so cold and I really was peeved with Boone for making me come out. Shivering, I felt weak. Please don't catch a cold, I prayed. Up ahead was the Layson-Marrion, standing tall in all its glory. Nice, but not the place I expected Wales would have stayed at.
As I came closer, I noticed a few bellmen milling around inside, not really doing much. And a receptionist at the desk, peering away at the monitors. Time to take action. Pushing past the revolving doors, I made my way up to the desk. Standing there awkwardly, I tapped my fingers on the desk impatiently. He looked up from the screen and asked, "Yes?"
"I know this sounds like a lot to ask," I began, twisting a piece of my hair around my finger, "But do you have a toilet?"
The receptionist let out an irritated sigh and pointed towards two double doors towards the end of the lobby. Then he resumed watching the monitor. I headed towards the doors, and hurriedly pushed past them, wanting to catch Boone in time.
Soon, I found the elevator and rode one up to the top floor. I bit the inside of my cheek, looking up at the camera. The guy would be having a hissy fit, so I needed to hurry and find Boone. Security was probably coming for me right that very second, I could take them out easily, but that could jeopardize the whole mission. The elevator made a loud ping and I stepped out before its doors fully slid open.
My feet thudded along the empty corridor, bouncing off the fancy patterned walls. Finally, I saw a large door at the end with a huge sign that read: Fire exit. A sigh of relief escaped my mouth. Thank God for that.
"Are you lost?"
I spun around, seeing a janitor standing there, trailing a bucket and mop behind him. And I thought everything was going so well.
"This is going to hurt," I announced before swinging my leg upward. My foot came into contact with his chin and he fell back, the impact of his fall knocking him unconscious. I dragged him by his legs towards a cleaning cupboard and shut him inside.
Walking off, I went to the door; it was locked. My fingers fumbled with the bolt, sliding it open. The door flung open, and I saw Boone's figure slip behind the infrastructure that was awkwardly place on the roof.
"Put your gun down, Boone, it's me," I called out, involuntarily rolling my eyes. Typical.
Hearing him sigh, I jogged up to the raised part of the roof where the infrastructure stood. Boone moved away from his hiding place, gun still in his hand, and said, "Fancy seeing you here."
Boone stood over me as I climbed up, offering me a hand. I wafted his hand away. I'm capable of climbing a wall, Boone. I shot him a fierce look, informing him he was not in my good books.
I hissed, "Out on your own little mission again?"
"You remember what happened in Providence. I'm not losing another member. If anyone goes I'd rather have it be me," Boone confessed, breathing in deeply, then looked at me in the face, "I'm glad you're here though. I might end up needing you. I'd appreciate it if you came."
I couldn't help but laugh. "That was almost sentimental, Boone. Did you take something?" In reply, Boone gave me his usual smirk, playing with the gun in his hands.
"Nah, just don't feel like dying tonight. Not over this guy. We have far more important targets coming up in the next few months," Boone told me, a sudden seriousness washing over his face. I could tell what he was thinking. He regretted putting Bella in charge. It was understandable, looking from his point of view. After all, they were exceedingly late. But it probably wasn't Bella's fault... She was usually good at these sort of things. Maybe something happened?
"How long are you going to give them?" I asked, leaning against the metal infrastructure.
"Five minutes. I've already waited fifteen."
I nodded, and replied, "Security will be here soon. We may have a little trouble." He didn't reply.
The silence was a little intimidating and the atmosphere was tense, my heart began to beat faster. They still hadn't come. Five minutes past. Still nothing. Boone let out an aggravated sigh. He began to walk towards the fire exit, jumping down from the wall.
"That's it. I'm going in."

Spoiler

FIRST POST AND IT WAS A PAIN IN THE BUTT
kind of
Anyways, I hope you guys like it. I didn't interfere with anything, or anyone, except for Isabel, which I hope I didn't have her do anything she wouldn't. >.>
Everything in italics is just flashbacks, just telling y'all so nobody is confuseeed.
It is kind of short, but only cause I just started on it today, and I have English 2 homework I haven't started on yet.
If you have any problems with it, JUST TELLL MEEE. Don't be shy! I'll change it to your liking!
Ummmm, so just tell me if you like it! ^^

With a sigh, I pulled myself up, and sat on the side of the pool.
I usually only came up here when nobody was around, cause of the whole 'not supposed to be seen' thing.
Boone hadn't told me to do anything today, which was weird, cause we're usually busy.
"Dom? Can we play dolls today?" Little Kylee asked, her bright blue eyes peering up at me.
"No today, Ky. I'm too busy. Go play with Kaden."
Shaking my head, I stood up, grabbed my things, and started heading back downstairs.
While I walked, I started at the scrape on my finger, watching as a little trickle of blood made it's way down my hand. The trail stopped on my wrist, where my tattoo lay. Staring at the words permanently carved into my skin, I sniffled.
Sighing again, I found my way to a room, stripped down, and changed back into my clothes, which was a white tank-top, black hoodie, skinny jeans, and my sneakers. Once dressed, I left the room, and wandered around, wondering where the others were. Probably on a mission. Good for them.
After a few minutes of not knowing where I was going, I came across Isabel.
"Dom, Dom! Isabelle's coming over today! You said you'd take us to the park, remember?" Kylee squealed, Kaden standing behind her.
Isabelle, as in the Isabelle that Ky met at school.
"Yeah! Are you going too, Kade?" I asked, crouching down in front of him.
With a shake of his head, he turned and ran into the other room.
Ever since I'd gotten a job, we hadn't spent much time together. To him, I looked like another stranger. And he didn't talk to strangers.
"Hey." I mumbled, entering the room.
We weren't exactly on the best of terms, mostly because of all the arguments we've had about being a Purist, and being Spoiled.
When she didn't reply, I opened my mouth again, pulling out a mug and pouring coffee in it. "Where is everyone?"
"Out." She muttered, taking a swig from her mug.
I nodded, and picked my mug up. "Fair enough."
Leaving the room, I found my way to my bed, and sat down on it, being careful not to spill my drink.
"It's so quiet." I mumbled to myself, pulling out an old and battered book out from under the bunk bed.
'The Hunger Games', it was called.
I's read it about a million times, but supposedly there was a sequel, then a third one. Which I didn't have.
The book was basically about a girl who saved her sister the trouble of going into a big arena and, which she was locked in, with several other teens from other districts. All of them were either teamed up, or went out on their own into the forest, field, or whatever else there was in there. And, well, nobody came out unless they were dead, or they were the winners.
Personally, it was way worse than the world they were in today. Druggies everywhere, having to hide in a basement. It all sucked. But at least that was just a book. This...this was real life.
"Kade. This is life. You have to get used to it!" 10 year old Kylee screamed at her twin, holding a book to her chest.
"But it's mine! You can't just take my stuff and tell me that you can have it cause you're a girl, then tell me that's how life is!" He argued back, his voice raising with every word.
Ky stuck her tongue out, and turned away, getting ready to walk into the other room, but was pulled back when Kade grabbed a handful of her hair, his face red from anger.
"Give it, now!" He screamed.
As Kylee struggled and hollered my name, I calmly walked into the room, fed up with all the fighting.
"Knock it off!" I demanded, slamming my foot onto the old wooden floor.
Both heads snapped towards me, their hands dropping to the ground.
As the book Kylee was holding hit the floor with a 'thud', I marched over, and snatched it up, catching a glimpse of the cover. 'The Hunger Games'.
"Both of you. Go stand in separate corners, and I'll figure out something to do with you. Maybe I'll just take away this book. That'll stop the fighting, won't it?"
Kylee shook her head, tears already streaming down her face.
I immediately regretted raising my voice, they didn't need that. But, they needed to learn. "I will say this once, and only once. If I hear you two bickering again, or laying your hands on each other, I'll bring out my belt."
It was hard to threaten them, since they looked so innocent. As if they'd done nothing wrong.
"It's not fair! We only started fighting cause she took my book! It's mine! Not hers! Please, Dom! I just want my book!" Kade burst out, a few tears escaping his sky blue eyes.
Their sobs made my heart ache, as if I were being stabbed. Right. In. The. Heart.
"Kylee...just stop tormenting your brother. It's not nice. Kade, youcan have your book back, but remember that this is real life. In any other situation out there," I pointed towards the window, where a view of the city lay behind a light sheet."out there you don't get that kind of choice. You get things taken away from you out of nowhere, and you don't get to go back and change it. You're going to have to get used to it."
Sighing, I shoved the book back under my bed, and took another drink out of my cup. Setting the mug on the ground, I rolled over, and shut my eyes, tired of doing nothing.

AN: Hi there! Sorry for taking ages. This chapter was meant to include a lot more than it does, but I just didn't want to keep delaying uploading something that's kinda overdue already. There's info that is important to me to include in this storyline, so I really hope I get as a next scene: TENANT INTERROGATING WALES.

---

Wales made sounds like a beached whale in the undergrowth. Tenant couldn't help but crane his neck every few minutes to make sure that they weren't being visibly followed. Not that he thought it likely that they were being followed - in fact it was markedly unlikely - but the indiscretion of the man gnawed at him. He gripped Wales more securely, assuring himself yet again that the handcuffs were tight and the rope was snug around the flabby torso, and tugged him along. Branches snapped under his weighted step and the grunting and huffing from the man himself could have woken a graveyard.

Markson seemed to be feeling competitive on that count. She failed to remain upright when given the chance, failed to stop screaming when given a direct order and failed to stop clawing at Blake's face until pinned to his side. Another problem he would rather have dealt with immediately, but of course liabilities were handled differently with the Caths.

The main road was directly to their left, the group separated from the highway by only a thin layer of trees. There weren't many cars out at this time and the occasional swish of tyres over rainy tarmack rather served to reassure than alarm them.

Boone had been crazy to set off this mission in the first place, but of course Tenant hadn't said much. He knew that the man had his own personal aims aside from those of the Caths, a rather restrictive lust for vengeance being one of them. Everybody had their personal wars to win, and Tenant could not sincerely have cared less about Boone's. But he wished he hadn't been involved in such a farce. It should have been obvious to their captain that to extract information would be to place themselves in a compromising situation which could not be repeated. Termination of the subject was something Boone seemed to lust after rather enthusiastically - as this particular instance of information was something he seemed to prefer to withold from his fellow Caths, however, he'd stayed home and left a lot to chance. Not for the first time, Tenant imagined the look on Boone's face if he ever found out the truth.

It had seemed a rather childish endeavour to Tenant even as he slipped the key into the hotel room door and turned the knob. "Swipe all the data from his laptops. Get his phone. Get his camera. Get his goddamned underwear for all I care. Get anything you can, and get out of there."

Blake had been first through the door. In seconds he had plugged up the smartphone lying on Wales' bedside table, leeching whatever was to be found. Markson in the meanwhile had fired up and connected a slim laptop PC lying on the bench by the TV. Tenant kept his position by the bed, eyes on the subject.

There hadn't been much on the PC, and the phone only had a long list of calls to a single number, "Angie". Probably an affair. From what Tenant had found out, Wales was married with three kids. It hadn't been easy to find much more than that, though.#

That had been when Blake decided to knock over the lamp. You had to give it to the kid, he managed to be amazingly clumsy in the most inopportune of moments. Wales, hairy stomach protruding from the covers like a particularly ugly molehill, woke with a start and flailed around a bit until he realised that he wasn't alone. "What the - who - " he had managed to sputter before Tenant had a Glock 17 pointed at his forehead. "Move another muscle and you die."

The situation had already been compromised. How were they supposed to get out of there without killing the man?

In the end, it had resolved itself. It was impossible to leave him there with knowledge of their actions, and after what he said it was also impossible to kill him...
"I have information. Don't shoot." He had regained some dignity as he straightened himself to say this. "Do you know their plans? Do you know how they'll get you? You need me."

Tenant wasn't sure if the man was trying to be sneaky. He could easily imagine that he would try and pull a stunt, not give them full info or run for it when they were out. At least on the last count, he should be aware of the futility of trying.

He had kept the gun pointed at his head as the man pulled on jeans and a dilapidated, knitted jumper. He was wary of using it, though. Finding back to HQ would only be all the more unpleasant with a bleeding liability.
Blake and Markson kept a steady eye on Wales as he stumbled around. The man took his time, hopping first on one foot, then on the other as he tried to get into the trousers, and nearly falling over at one point. Tenant should have been more attentive, but it had happened so quickly. He could only guess it was an entirely spontaneous act.

The man stumbled and Markson jumped forward to stabilise him. At first, Tenant thought Wales had stood on her toe, her scream seemed so out of context of their situation. Then he saw the syringe hanging from her thigh.

It must have been some high-end hallucinogen, some type of amphetamine brew-up. He and Blake had jumped the man, pinning him to the ground, but the damage was done. Markson was sobbing as she tried to squeeze at the point where the needle had pierced her skin. The girl was terrified of anything that came out of a syringe, like all of the Caths. At least half of its contents, however, had already entered her bloodstream.

After that, it had had to go quickly. They packed up the drives and got out of there. By Tenant's calculations they'd be lucky if the drug waited another half hour before setting in. He had known they would have to be well on their way by then.

And now they were in the forest.

It was too dangerous in the city. Markson sounds like a dying ox and Wales isn't helping. We couldn't have taken any more direct route than this.

Still. Boone wouldn't be happy.

Boone Larazo - Leader

Boone couldn't remember the last time he'd been so nervous. He could feel his heart pounding as he paced the headquarters floor. It seemed hours ago that he had discovered Wales' room empty, and halfway back to the base had received a radio from Johnny regarding Bella, who was 'drugged, down and out'. Apparently someone was carrying her, and the other was supporting Wales (who had been promptly 'knocked out cold').

On Boone's order, Del had pulled out their mediocre first-aid kit and a bottle of rubbing alcohol and laid it beside Bella's bed. Now, she was leaning against the wall by the large garage door that served as the opening to HQ. He could feel his eyes on her as he leaned against the table, then pushed away from it, letting out a long breath of air.

Suddenly, the door burst open, and the group poured through.

Boone quickly scooped Bella out of Johnny's arms, and carried her quickly into the bedroom. He cupped his hand behind her head and laid it gently against the pillow, then stormed into the other room.

"Dom and Kimwe, I want you both in there with Bella. Talk to Johnny, find out what happened, and do whatever you can to help her. Hugh, lock up all the weapons- just lock up everything- in the storage room, you know where the key is." Boone nodded toward his bedroom where the key was stored, tucked in a hidden sliding compartment in his bedpost, "Del and Tenant, I want this guy tied up and put in the meeting room once the weapons are locked up. Let's move guys-" Boone gestured with his hand and everyone darted around the house to their assigned areas. He found himself walking back towards Bella's bed, and knelt down beside her again while Dom and Kimwe took information from Johnny behind him.

He pulled a cloth off the counter and gently- as gently as he could manage - wiped the sweat off her face. If he was going for honesty, tousled hair suited her. As much of a pain as she was- he'd always found her fucking gorgeous. Not that she'd ever know.

Stupid girls always getting themselves hurt.

He stood up when he heard Tenant enter the room.

"Wales is tied up, the weapon room is as secure as it's going to get, and I still think it's not bright that we keep our hostages in same room as our weapons." He sensed some bitterness in Tenant's voice that Boone assumed was wildly misplaced.

"Bella is fine, thanks for asking," Boone muttered, "And it's the only completely soundproof room we have. Now is not the time to talk about this anyway." He turned and addressed Kimwe, "And when you get the chance, Kim, make her some food so when she wakes up she'll have something in her system. It might help the effects of whatever the hell is in her system pass faster."

Boone followed Tenant through the door, back into the main room, and into his bedroom. Del stood by the door, arms crossed across her chest, looking simultaneously frustrated and exhausted. Hugh entered the room a moment later, followed by Johnny and Isabel.

Boone stuck his hands in his pockets and looked at the group before him, who all bore the same expressions of fatigue and stress, "I'd like to figure out what happened tonight, but I think right now we're all too tired to get anything accomplished, so I'd like us to start three hour shifts watching Wales while the rest of us get some sleep. I'll take the first shift. I'll start piecing through some of the information we got. The rest of you get some sleep. Del, I'd appreciate if you took the shift after me. You can pick someone after that." Boone took a deep breath, "You're all dismissed."

There were feet pounding on the ground, and their rhythm seemed to echo her heartbeat. There were drums too, and the dancers’ feet struck the dusty ground with every thump. Kinwe was aware that she was dreaming when she noticed the Washington monument in the background of what she had quickly learnt was a typical sub-Saharan engagement ceremony. The colourfully dressed male and female dancers moved their arms and legs and made celebratory whoops with their tongues. The engaged couple dressed in red blue and yellow outfits from the same cloth followed behind the dancers. As a stark contrast to the traditional regalia, most of her cousins were recording the event with their iPads and cellphones. Kinwe had always found this blend of traditional world and modern world fascinating. She turned and saw her grandfather beaming at her and she smiled. Grandpa Hawa. He had taken a shine to her, much to the annoyance of some of her cousins. Kinwe stood out with her American accent and unusually ethnic style of dressing. In Africa, most people dressed in western gear unless there was a traditional function, or they were from the older generation. The irony. Kinwe dressed the way she did to feel more African, and here in Africa she stuck out like a sore thumb.

Well, no, here in Washington. The Monument was right there... no it wasn’t, there was a snake in its place. Kinwe was struck with fear and the drums beat faster, too fast for her feet to keep up with. Wait, when did she start dancing? She didn’t know, but she knew she had to get the steps right or else – or else –

There was a roar and then “Dom and Kimwe, I want you both in there-”

“- with Bella. Talk to Johnny, find out what happened, and do whatever you can to help her.” Kinwe knew that voice. Boone. She was in Boston, not Washington, or Africa. The basement. The Caths. The mission! Something has gone wrong. Kinwe thought. Boone was talking to Hugh about weapons and her heart skipped a beat.

She was instantly awake, her heart thumping as she levered out from the bottom bunk. Her head bumped the top bunk, but she barely felt it with her dreadlocks tied up in her nighttime head scarf on top of her head. She looked at Dom who was up too and was switching on the light. They exchanged a brief worried glance then moved in the direction of the commotion. As they hurried, Kinwe noticed Dom’s damp hair. Had she been sweating in her sleep?

This thought was dismissed before she investigated it, as she lay her eyes on the scene before her, open mouthed and wide eyed. Bella was not looking good. She had been laid on her bed, feverish and sweaty. What the damn hell? Kinwe glanced at Dom whose hands were clamped over her mouth. Her eyes sought out Johnny and he was pacing a few feet behind them. She rushed to him and Dom came with her.

“What happened, JJ?” Dom asked him urgently. He began ranting about the mission and although at times it was hard to follow him, she picked up that Bella had been syringe stabbed by Wales, the guy that they were after for intel. They had escaped unnoticed, come through the woods and... and she must have misheard.

“What?! That guy is here?” Kinwe urged JJ to respond. He nodded miserably. Kinwe was speechless and looked down, thinking a thousand thoughts when Boone addressed her.

“And when you get the chance Kim, make her some food so when she wakes up she’ll have something in her system. It might help the effects of whatever is in her system pass faster,” he said. She paused, and then gave a single nod.

Two things struck her almost simultaneously. Firstly, they didn’t know what was in her... it could be lethal! Secondly, Boone had called her Kim again. Now was not the time to correct him though, he was clearly distraught and focussed on Bella’s condition. Instead, she headed past everyone to the kitchen. The supplies hadn’t been replenished and Kinwe began to freak out.

Calm down, you've got this. She thought, breathing in and out purposefully 3 times. She found cheese, half a section of baloney, a carrot and half a tomato. Yikes. She turned to the cupboard and found an unopened pack of flour and her face brightened as she reached for it like it was manna from Heaven.

“I can totally make pie from this,” she murmured confidently. She briskly laid out everything on the counter and headed to the meeting room where the others were. Boone was discussing shifts guarding this Wales character. Oh man, how crazy is this. Weren't they accomplices in a kidnapping now? She shook the thought from her mind. As far as this was from what she had expected being a Cath was like, she had to believe that the greater goal was worth the dirty work.

Was it though?

Boone dismissed them after taking the first guard shift. Dom and everyone else headed back to bed, and Kinwe turned to head to the kitchen, then paused to watch Hugh return to his quarters. She wondered vaguely how he was doing, then admonished her silliness. He wasn’t the one who got stabbed with a needle.

She moved fast with the ingredients, impressed with herself with how she made do in this less-than-equipped kitchen. At least the oven was decent. She could program it to switch off when it was done baking the pie. Twenty minutes later, tired, she washed her hands and returned to bed, leaving the dirty dishes and utensils there. Where I come from, she who cooked does not clean. Which is why she never had a problem volunteering to cook.

She also prayed that cooking duty exempted her from guarding duty...

Johnny J. Blake

"JJ, baby..."
Mom wasn't sounding good. My 18-year-old self leaned over our only bed in the one-room apartment. I had sold all of our furniture for money and most of our personal belongings. I slept on the floor now, and listened to my mother's hacking coughs all night long. I wished it was me dying, and not my beautiful mother.
"You can't do this, Mom." I gripped her pale hand in my own, and her foggy brown eyes stared at me. I had got my blue eyes from my father, whoever that was. He had left us, he had left her, and I couldn't do it. I didn't have the money. I couldn't save her.
"I'll--" my voice cracked, and I felt tears welling up in my eyes. "I'll...I'll go find another shift. I can live through four 12 hour shifts, Mom. I can do it for you."
Her long black hair looked like funeral lace around her forehead. Her cheeks were sunken due to my failure to buy enough food and medicine. She lifted a shaking hand and stroked my cheek, smoothed back my wild hair. Tears ran down my cheeks as I gripped her hand like a lifeline. She was my life.
"Don't, sweetie," she rasped, her voice barely above a whisper. Her chest heaved and she coughed for a solid minute. I grabbed a water jug and coaxed a dribble down her throat.
When it subsided, she gestured me closer to talk in my ear. I leaned in, recoiling at the stench of sickness and decay that surrounded her, completely opposite from the healthy, rose-like aroma that I remembered so well from my childhood.
"Live your life, Johnny. You're my baby, I want you to do what you want..." She breathed hard, even this was a strain for her.
"Mom--"
"I love you, JJ. Make me proud."
Her eyes fluttered closed, and her breathing ceased with a long sigh. Her hand went cold and limp. My heart began to thud so hard I thought it would burst. Tears were flowing freely now. I grabbed her by her thin shoulders and shook her, watched her head flop back and forth. No. She had to be alive, she had to be alright. I could make the money, I could save her, I could do it if I only worked harder, if I only had some help...
I shrieked her name over and over, a rapidly climbing siren in my head. I was still screaming when the next door neighbors called the police to take me away from her.
I had failed. I had killed my mother.


I sat bolt upright from sleep, my heart wrenching in my chest. Sweat ran down my back and my sheets were tangled around my feet. I fought my way out of bed, shivering with the remnants of my dream. The memories visited me nearly every night. People thought that my ADHD was what kept me up. It was really my past.
I pulled on some pants and my Converse, grabbed a tank top from the heap of messy clothes on the floor. I knocked a clock off of the bedside table, and it hit the ground with a huge clang. Hugh rolled over with a loud sigh, slamming his pillow over his head to block out my commotion.
Wincing, I left the room into the bright hallway, running my hands through my hair. Another bald spot had appeared behind my right ear, probably from last night. I really needed to stop that habit, but it was the only thing that kept me focused through the anxiety. And last night (or was it this morning?) had had its fair share of anxiety.
I headed for the kitchen, wondering what time it was. It was so hard to tell in a basement, really. No sunlight filtering through the windows.
I reached the small eating area and was surprised to see the lights on. Normally I was the first person up, but I suppose I had gone to bed at, what, four in the morning?
It was Del. She was fiddling with a granola bar, looking deep in thought. I noticed that her knuckles were nasty with bruises. She had probably punched a wall again.
"Hey, good-looking," I greeted, sliding into the seat beside her.
She shook out of her dazed state, looking at me in surprise. She had bags under her eyes, and her crimson hair was messier than usual. She had had a rough night too, it seemed.
"Hey JJ. What are you doing up? You only slept for about two hours."
I looked at her and raised an eyebrow.
"Who are you talking to, Del? The man who never sleeps!" With this, I wandered to the fridge and threw open the door.
"Man," I commented, looking at the scarce supplies. "When are we gonna restock again? There's nothing here for a growing boy. Needs his protein." I snagged a chocolate protein shake, the last one of the package, and slammed the door shut.
Del shook her head at me. "We need to wait until Father gets the chance. You know he always come through."
I nodded, cracking open the lid of my breakfast. At least he accomplished more than I did. He supported the people he vowed to.
I cracked a good natured smile to hide my pain. I lifted my shake to Del and touched it to her granola bar.
"Cheers!"
Del shook her head and smirked, it was her way of attempting not to laugh at me. Then her face darkened.
"What happened last night, Johnny? You were kind of hysterical when we sent you to bed."
"Oh," I said, hesitating. "It...it was bad. You saw Bella--" I stopped and quickly turned to Del, eyes wide.
"Is she okay? Tell me she's okay."
Del placed a hand over my shaking one and nodded.
"She'll be fine. It wasn't lethal, but it messed her systems up pretty good. She should be sleeping all day, but I doubt she will. She'll probably want to kill that scum who did it to her, knowing Bell."
I relaxed, and rubbed my wrist tattoos. Chinese symbols for "Strength" and "Love". They helped me focus and calm down.
"Well, I would too. I almost did." I barked a harsh laugh and flicked my switchblade out. Running my finger along the blade, I murmured, "Where's the bastard now?"
"Weapon's room."
I swung to look at her.
"You've got to be kidding." Del never joked. She looked at me, not amused. "Seriously? That's idiotic!"
"Boone's orders." She looked grim, like she agreed with me. I knew that she sometimes despised Boone's decisions, and this time, I agreed with her.
"Wow, aren't we smart." I put away my knife and stood up, waving my hands. "Let's just put the bastard in a room full of weapons. Yeah, that's a good plan! That way he can get out and kill us. Great job, guys."
I slumped back into my seat, picking at the fuzz left behind my ear. Looked like I'd have my hair to the right from now on, to cover the spot.
We sat in silence, mulling over the night's previous events. Unable to sit still much longer, I chugged the last dregs of my shake and jumped up. I patted Del on the head playfully and threw the container away.
"Welp, I'm off to the treadmill. Nice talking to you, Del. Enjoy that granola."
I left her with the same thoughtful look as I had approached her with, under the harsh florescents of a kitchen underground.
I needed to run.

Bella Markson - 3am onwards

I could still hear the echos of my own voice screaming like a distant sound in the night. I saw the needle in his hand but it was too late, he pierced my skin and made me spoiled, he spoiled me. Instantly after he did an unbelievable scream came out of my mouth and I ripped the needle from my thigh. I wanted to kill him. Right then and there, if I was able to have control of my surroundings, I would have grabbed his bedside lamp and knocked him out cold, forever. My head was throbbing and I barely saw Tenant and Johnny jump him; my world was starting to spin. There was a weird sense of place for me. I think I was still screaming, over and over again.

I was just spoiled. I was just stabbed. Something is chasing me. No, I’m being carried.

I fought whoever held me for a few moments before I finally started to go limp. I was losing control over my body, I could not stand that. I tried to grasp hold of myself, I was fighting to breathe, fighting to think, fighting to move, but all I could see was a warped view of my world. My eyes struggled to stay open as we went through the woods, and any light, any figure became a monster lurking, waiting for me. I saw trees swaying left to right, and for a whole two minutes I almost thought I heard the trees talking to each other. They were saying things like,

“What are we going to do with him?”

“How long do you think the effects will last on her?”

I wondered who the trees were talking about. Then after a while everything went dark, there was nothing there, except a bright light somewhere far away. I wondered for a second if I was dying. If that was the case I ran as far away from the light as possible. Then there was a change of atmosphere, I was inside a building. I could hear muffled voices of shock and horror.

Someone lifted me out of the arms I was in, and into theirs. I tried my best to wake up, to regain consciousness, to know exactly who was holding me. The person was so careful, it made me feel a little relaxed. I was set on something soft and comfortable, a bed I guess, and more voices surrounded me. Trying to hear them made my head catch on fire and my mind feel like needles were pricking it. I tried to move but couldn’t.

Why did I have to be so damn stupid? I should've let him roll around on the floor and take hours instead of trying to help him.

Someone put something like a cloth on my head and was gently wiping my brow. Who was this? I couldn't really tell. Then the person stopped and moved away. The pain was slowly coming back and I just wanted to die, I was no longer a purist. I could no longer stand firm in arguments and say, 'I have never had any drug in my system and I'm perfectly healthy'. No, I am not healthy, I am sick and I am possibly even dying. The throbbing slightly diminished as the voices around me moved away. There was no fighting the tears I felt slide down my face, what if today was the day that I met my end? What if I now suddenly started craving all kinds of drugs? What if- no! I wouldn't linger in those thoughts. I decided that the drug was causing me to be irrational. I was still me, and this would be the only drug to ever touch my system.

And that Wales was going to pay for causing that to happen. As anger started to course through me, I felt a surge of strength. There were barely any noises around and it seemed either everyone was sleeping or at least being very quiet. I slowly managed to open my eyes and saw that indeed I was on my bed, in my room. Using the small strength my anger gave me, I tried my best to push myself up, and I wandered into the kitchen staggering the whole way.

The only person there was Kinwe and she looked like she was taking something out of the oven. She turned and almost dropped the thing she was holding. After setting it on the counter she stared at me, surprised.

“What are you doing here?!” I asked wondering why she looked like I came back from the dead.

“I couldn't sleep. Woke up to get my pie out the oven… and off the floor. It’s still edible though.” Kinwe turned and scrutinised me. “Shouldn't you be in bed?”

“I’m fine now,” My voice was definitely not fine, it was slurred and thick.

“I think you should go back to bed.” she replied, crossing her arms.

“I’m fine! I - I need water.” I told her and brushed past her as I walked over to the fridge and grabbed one of the few water bottles left. After I did I walked back to the room slowly, when I almost reached the door I fell and Kinwe bent down to help me. A flashback went through me of me rushing to help the man, and anger flooded me, I pushed Kinwe away for a moment before regretting it. Stabilizing myself, I got up.

“Sorry,” I murmured but still shrugged off her help. I walked to my room and sat on my bed. She followed me with whatever food she made.

“You really should be resting, we still don't know the effects of the drug.” She said. Pain surged through me, both physical and emotional at the mention of the word ‘drug’. “Let me call Boone or someone...”

“I know that,” I snapped at her taking a sip of my water. “There’s no need to alert anyone, it’s slowly wearing off though.”

“Well, resting will help it wear off quicker. Also Boone mentioned eating.” I tensed at Boone’s name, was it Boone that carried me? Not even possible. She handed me a plastic plate she had brought and put some of the - now I could clearly see - pie that she had baked.

“Thanks.” I said quietly taking the food. Then I realized I didn't have anything to eat it with. “Could I have a fork too, please?” It came out ruder than I intended and Kinwe stalked off upset. I sighed and tried to breathe evenly, the shock of the whole night was coming back to me in flashes. She came back with the fork and a grim face. I tried to give her a smile but she turned and left instantly. Whatever, I can’t be friends with everybody. I thought, frustrated.

I couldn't wait to figure out what the hell was going on, and where that bastard who spoiled me was so that I could pound his face.

~Ray Thompson~

Before the clock even turns six, I'm already up, which is a little strange. Usually it's a struggle to just turn the alarm off at seven. Father Peter made sure to stress the importance of me being on time today, and that's probably got me on edge. Whatever it is he has planned, it seems a little important.

I've long since abandoned the attempt to fall back asleep, so I merely sit on the edge of the bed and stare at the wall, lost in thought. Nearly three months ago was when I moved to Boston, but it feels so much longer. If I didn't know any better, I could've sworn it took me half a year just to find this cheap, crummy motel I sleep in. Though it's only been a month and a half or so since I met Father Peter.

He's a nice fellow, allowing me to stick around and help out in the church. Still, it's obvious that he's a man of secrets. Constantly moving around, getting him to just sit down and talk to you is pretty difficult. Probably because he's constantly fidgeting when he's sitting, but not enough for most to notice, I've concluded. It's only a slight fidget, maybe a movement of his heel or palm.

For the better part of an hour, my mind just wanders, jumping from one observation to another. I can probably stay like that for the entire day if I desire, but the alarm at my bedside goes off, snapping me from my thoughts. Guess it's time I start preparing for the day.

Nothing really exciting happens. I quickly pull on a plain-looking t-shirt and shorts that go down to my knees, then continue the rest of my morning routine like always. By the time I finish and even grab a bagel to go, it's ten minutes earlier than the time I'm usually ready. Shrugging, I decide to walk to the church slower today and plop a piece of the bagel in to my mouth.

The entire walk to the church, I preoccupy myself by staring at all the buildings, seeing if I can notice anything different than the previous days. Nothing really strikes out at me, but I do notice some man passed out in an alleyway. A shiver runs down my spine. If I hadn't given up on drugs I'd probably be like him, homeless and suffering from some form of a hangover.

No one cares about this drunken man, preoccupied with their own problems. I stop myself there. If I even try to delve any deeper, it won't end up well. Eventually it'll become some rant to myself about the government and the Caths and all that jazz, giving me a giant headache.

Just thinking about the Caths cause me to sigh. I've heard rumor about an organization of them around these parts. That's the whole reason I moved here, but it's been well hushed up. Still, a feeling tugs at me which makes me think Father Peter knows something about them. The few times I've asked him about it he always falls quiet and brushes it off, though I don't press any farther.

After who knows how long a walk from the motel, the church appears into view. It doesn't seem any different. No extra people at the doors, or hardly any. It's just there, like normal.

I push the glass doors open, not surprised to barely see anyone around. Father Peter specifically told me to, first, be on time and, second, meet him in his office, a place where he rarely is. Without even thinking, I run through the halls, taking sharp turns left and right. It definitely helps that I know my way around this place like the back of my own hand.

By the time I finally reach his door, it feels too early. What Father Peter has planned can basically be anything. Taking a deep breath, I knock on the door twice, the pounding creating a soft echo.

"Come in," Father Peter answers. Slowly, I turn the knob, pushing the door open. Sitting at the desk, Father Peter casually sorts papers. It's probably just some cover up incase whoever at the door isn't supposed to see something. I can tell since his eyes dart around, struggling to stay planted on the desk.

He looks up at me and chuckles. "Ah, Ray. I see actually do know how to come in early." I don't reply; there's no need. Carefully, he pushes the papers aside and rolls his chair back, slowly standing up. So he has something to show me?

Confidently taking the lead, he walks out of the room. I follow close behind. My mind races as I try to think up the possible areas where he could be going. From the slight hesitations he makes occasionally, I can conclude it's probably not a place I've been to before. That confuses me a little. Haven't I been to every part of the church? Apparently not.

The halls he take seem more secluded, places someone wouldn't usually go. Though it's difficult for me to tell, I can see that the paint on the wall seems chipped in spots and the carpet is more matted and grimy. What really surprises me is when I'm led down a flight of stairs into a basement area. It never occurred to me that this church had more than one floor. Is this place supposed to be some kind of secret? If so, where could he be taking me?

Finally, Father Peter stops at the end of a hallway, a door in front of him. He swings the door wide open, exposing a small room with a table, some chairs, and a strange man facing away from the door. Casting a confused glance at Father Peter, I suddenly wonder why now is the time I'm being shown all this.

"Boone," Father Peter calls out to the man. With a grunt of acknowledgement, the man turns around to face us. He's probably almost as tall as I am, though barely shorter, and his hands are shoved into his pockets. It's not hard to tell, despite his weary appearance, that he's someone important, since he stands with an air of importance.

"That him?" he asks Father Peter.

"Yes, it's him," Father Peter answers, then looks back at me, "Ray, in the past you've shown interest in the Caths, so I've set up this meeting between you and Boone here." Thus it all pieces together. Remaining silent, I nod to Father Peter and continue to stare at the man called Boone.

"Well come in," Boone sighs impatiently. "We've got a lot to cover."