I stay close to Newt as we push our way through the crowd, walking swiftly towards the wall. I look around at the people living in poverty, their faces and bodies dirty, their clothes tattered. I know we can't look much better.

I get weird looks as I walk past people, growing quickly used to their stares or looks of shock as the girl with the dried blood caking her face passes them. Women hold their children closer to their bodies. Men hold tightly onto their women. Children stand and gawk. I don't blame anyone for their actions. It's not like it's an every day sight.

"This place has really gone to hell," Jorge calls out above the loud chatter of passersby.

"We've just gotta stay together," Thomas replies. 

"We are the voice of the voiceless!" A man shouts from behind us. We all turn to look, trying to see who it is. "They hide behind their walls thinking they can keep the cure for themselves," It's a man sitting on the roof of a car, shouting into a megaphone. The crowd around him cheers as he pumps his fist into the air, trying to rally them up. "while they watch the rest of us wither and rot!" There are men in masks holding guns sitting atop the moving car next to him. As they pass us, I notice one of them lean forward slightly, his eyes seeming to be fixed on us, though I can't be sure. "But there are more of us than there are of them! And I say... we rise up and take back what is ours!" He roars, the crowd screaming and cheering for him, pumping their fists in the air. "Let's bring back a victory!"

A weird feeling passes through me as the car passes us. I watch the man lean over and whisper something in his friend's ear. I reach up instinctively and run the rung across the leather cord. Thomas looks up suddenly. I do the same, noticing three drones flying overhead, one of them seeming to circle around the area in the air.

The crowd seems to be getting louder, the people more restless and rowdy. They're hollering things at each other and pumping their fists in the air and screaming at the top of their lungs. Newt grabs onto my good hand, making me walk right beside him. We pass under a tunnel of sorts, graffiti covering the cement walls of it.

Thomas stands still for a moment before holding his arm out. "That's it!" He shouts, his eyes glued to the wall. "That's our way in!" Without looking back at us, he's off, walking towards the wall quickly.

"Thomas!" I cry out, starting after him, but Newt pulls me back. "Thomas, stop!" My voice is lost in the crowd.

"Let us in! Let us in!" The crowd around us chants together, their voices mixing together.

"Stay with me, V," Newt says in my ear, squeezing onto my hand. 

"Thomas!" Jorge tries. The boy glances back at us, but doesn't stop moving. "This is not what you're looking for! All these people trying to find their way in, you think you're gonna find something they can't?!"

Thomas just brushes him off. "I came this far! I'm not turning back now!" He continues pushing his way towards the huge wall, the rest of us trailing behind.  Frypan keeps one hand on Brenda's shoulder, making sure to stick with her. 

"What the hell did we get ourselves into?" He shouts above the noise, though his voice is still barely audible. 

I look around at the screaming, rioting mob; at their furious faces and angry signs. The people are pushing past each other, each one trying to make it to the front. They're all dirty. They're all wearing worn clothes. They're all shouting the same things.

I can see Thomas and Jorge up at the front, but Newt and I can't seem to be able to push our way towards them. The crowd is too thick. 

Newt looks around, his hand tightening on mine. I look up at him, eyebrows knit together. He simply nods to my right. I look over and notice a man wearing the same mask as the others on the car earlier, his gun held tightly in his hands as he walks a few feet away from us. He glances up at me before looking back down. A pang of fear sends shivers up and down my spine.

"Come on, Newt! We have to get to Thomas!" I shout. I begin forcing my way through, elbowing people and pushing them out of the way. Newt trails behind me. I see Brenda and Fry standing next to Jorge. 

We make it to the four of them, Newt immediately putting his free hand on Thomas's shoulder. "Hey, guys, we've gotta go now! Look." He nods behind us at another one of the masked men, who's pushing his way through the crowd towards us. He towers over most of the people, making it easy to see him. 

I look around and see more of them coming towards us, caging us in. I reach into my pocket, pulling out my pocket knife. I grip onto it tightly, readying myself just in case. 

Suddenly, a low, loud alarm blares from the walls, silencing the crowd instantly. We all turn to look. A sinking feeling in my gut and a sharp pang of anxiety is all it takes for me to start tugging on Thomas's jacket sleeve. He ignores me.

I see machines at the top of the wall readying themselves. The people around me seem to know what's about to happen and begin screaming and running as fast as they can away from the walls.

I tug on Thomas's sleeve again, sharper this time. "Thomas, we have to go! They're gonna shoot!" I shout.

"Thomas, let's go! We've gotta get out of here!" Jorge shouts as the first shot is fired, hitting the ground just short of us, making the ground explode in a cloud of dust.

That's all it takes for us to take off. Newt's still holding onto my hand tightly, dragging me behind him. Thomas is shouting at us to go. I look around as bodies are thrown into the air. Explosions sound all around us, hitting the ground all just short of us. The world is one big explosion of dirt and dust, which clouds our vision. Bodies litter the ground around us.

My eyes sting from the particles in the air. I blink back the tears, forcing myself to stay focused. A man beckons for us to follow him and, without a second thought, we do. He leads us into an ally, an explosion hitting the ground where we were just moments before. My hand slips out of Newt's as Brenda and I both hit the wall. I hit my shoulder before falling to the hard floor, skinning a spot under my chin. Newt quickly rushes over and picks me up, steadying me as we continue running.

"No way out!" A man shouts before running at Newt, grabbing him and ripping him away from me.

"No, Newt!" I scream, sprinting towards the man. However, I'm grabbed from behind, my legs flying into the air as I kick and scream, trying to get to Newt. I jam my knife into my captor's thigh, making him release me as he falls to the ground. I run at the man holding Newt, slashing at him. The blade snags the skin of his arm, making him cry out in pain and release Newt, but another man grabs hold of him and forces him into one of the vans which sit open and waiting for us. The man who was holding Newt previously slams his fist into my jaw, making me fall to the ground again in a daze, dropping my knife beside me. Metallic blood coats and fills the inside of my mouth. Somebody picks me up from behind before forcing me into the truck with Thomas and Brenda. 

My head pounds as I lean against the side of the truck. I can already feel the bruise forming on my jaw, tender to the touch. That was one hell of a punch.

I look up at the man, who's trying to stem the flow of blood from his arm with the piece of cloth he'd had wrapped around his head as a makeshift headband of sorts to keep his long, greasy hair out of his eyes.

He glares down at me, his eyes boring into me with hate. I spit a mouthful of blood at his feet, grinning up at him, making him simply glare down at me even harder. There's no sign of the man who I'd stabbed. He must be in the other van.

There's another man in the truck, the insanely tall one, who seems to be staring at me the whole ride. I fiddle with my necklace, noticing the way he shifts in his seat just slightly. My gaze shifts from the man I'd cut back to this other man the whole ride.

The car ride is bumpy and long. I don't know how long we're in the car for, but finally, the van makes two sharp rights before making a halting stop. Someone bangs on the door behind us before opening it, letting in the bright sunlight.

"Get out!" Another man orders, his voice gruff from behind his mask. Thomas climbs out first, me and Brenda following. The other van comes to a skidding halt just a few feet away, the tires squealing on the cement.

We can hear the grunts and fighting before we can see who it is, the van shaking before a man is thrown out of the trunk, opening up the door. Jorge jumps out, landing on top of the masked man he'd thrown out of the truck.

"Where is she, you son of a bitch?!" He demands before punching the man right in the center of his masked face. Brenda rushes forward, trying to get Jorge's attention.

"Hey, wait!" Thomas shouts as Jorge lands another punch to the man's face.

A few of the masked men rush over, separating all of us from Jorge. "I'm right here, I'm right here!" Brenda cries. Jorge stops punching the man, looking wildly around. His eyes fall on her and he stops fighting.

Newt looks around, his eyes darting from face to face before they finally land on me. He relaxes a bit against the guards pinning him against the side of one of the vans, his eyes never leaving me.

"Bitch," a man mutters limping over to me. It's the man I'd stabbed. There's a piece of cloth tied tightly on his wound, but blood still seeps through it. He jabs his gun into my side, making Thomas, Newt, and Fry all start shouting again, but they're quickly silenced by the men holding them. "I should kill you right now," he says, his voice low so that only I can hear.

I stare up at the man, my face set in cold stone. "Do it then," I reply, spitting out another mouthful of blood and saliva. The man pushes the muzzle of his gun further into my side roughly, making me wince in pain. The man lets out a low chuckle.

"That's enough, Marshall," a man standing just a few feet away from us says loudly. When the man simply jabs his gun into my side again, the man walks over. He grabs Marshall's shoulder and pulls him away from me roughly, making the man stumble back. "I said, that's enough. Don't make me repeat myself again." His voice is dangerously low, making shivers run down my spine.

"Everybody relax," one of the men, the tall one, says. "We're all on the same side here!"

Thomas pushes past the men holding him back, walking towards the tall man. "What do you mean, same side? Who the hell are you?"

The man doesn't respond, his gun held loosely in his hands. He stares at us for a moment before seemingly coming to a conclusion. He grabs onto his mask and pulls it off his face before turning back to look at us, his eyes- those familiar, sapphire blue eyes- flicking from person to person.