The deafening sound of the alarm bombards the murky courtyard, signalling to the rest of us that a group of older kids are now breaking out. The echoes of gunshots ricochet through the air, barely missing my head as the rest of us follow in pursuit. With every explosion, adrenaline runs thicker through my veins. Crimson splashes the fresh snow as the timid girls from my cabin abruptly hit the ground like dominos. I start feeling uneasy as the familiar faces pile up, and reality begins to fade when I can’t keep up with the crowd and drop down too, frozen in shock. Feet trample me, stabbing from my feet to my chest. I groan agonizingly.

What if I die here?

The next thing I feel is a pair of strong arms lifting me up, knocking me out of the haze. We rush through the crowd, and in this time I recognize the scruffy face, ashy blond hair, and indigo uniform of the person who’s carrying me; it’s Liam, one of the blues, but I do not know him well because I am a yellow. We’re running with the straggling others, pushing urgently through the warped fifty-foot gates that locked us in as the ghostly sky serves us frostbite.

Soon the view of Caledonia is far out of our way. I take a moment to absorb where I am, knowing the mile-thick curtain of pine trees offers protection before the PSF officers begin searching. Since the few of us who survived the escape scattered in almost every direction of the forest to safety, I can only see Liam and another boy.

“Well, if that wasn’t the usual Wednesday morning!” the boy laughed out of breath, showcasing the dimples on his mocha cheeks.

“No time for bad jokes, Chubs. I know there’s a neighborhood somewhere a little bit deeper, we’ll find a car and get the hell-” he quickly reminded himself I was only eleven, ”-heck, get the heck out of here. Are you hurt?” He kneeled down to me.

I opened my mouth to start speaking like I always have, but instead shut it and shook my head no.

“What’s your name?” His blue eyes fill with compassion.

I tried to speak again, but no words came out. Instead, I reached for the stick poking out of the snow, a spark bursting as I touched it. The two of them jumped back in surprise of my abilities. I traced the word Suzume.

“Suzume, of course!” the corners of Liam’s mouth turned upwards, “Do you like Zu?”

Nobody had ever called me that before, but for some reason, it made me smile. Chubs adjusted his thin gray-framed glasses and chuckled, “I guess we’ve got a yellow on our hands.”

Time passes, and when we reach the outside world we come across a parking lot of abandoned cars. We discretely wander around, afraid of running into another human. I stand beside a large black van, the words BETTY JEAN’S CLOTHING painted on it’s side. I wipe off a thin coat of snow and manage to pull open one of it’s sliding doors. The tan interior reeks of a floral detergent.

“You found a good one, didn’t you?” Chubs walked over to me, “A dented Dodge minivan, how practical,”

“I think Black Betty’s a keeper,” Liam spoke.

A week later and we had made our way from green signs reading Ohio to ones reading West Virginia. Liam always drove, since Chubs was practically blind. We lived in constant fear of getting caught by a skip-tracer, because if we were caught we’d be traded back into a camp and tortured just so the adult could get tens of thousands for us. It didn’t take long for us to learn how to fend them off, nor figure out how to survive with the clothes on our backs.

Liam parked on a street behind a deserted gas station. We ran out of gas, so him and Chubs searched for cars to siphon from while I adventured to search for food. I unravel the stockroom for any measly snack I can suffice for a meal. I turn to another shelf, sorting through the ravaged empty containers. I shove a few bags into the clothes I changed into after we escaped. Suddenly, a silhouette appears in the doorway. I jump back in terror. She appears older than me, but still young enough to be in rehabilitation, with her hollow cheeks and dirt-encrusted skin.

“Where did you come from?” Her voice trembled.

Immediately, I pull the exterior door open and run through the rain, mud sloshing all over my shoes as I rush through the asphalt. The necessities fall out of my clothing, and I quickly reach down to grab them, but I sense her fingers reached out only a few centimeters from the back of my tee and pedal my legs as fast as they can go.

“Hey!” she called. “I just- I just want to talk to you! Please!”

“Ruby!” A  deeper voice barked at her.

I hid behind a tree I used as a shield. I looked at the frightened girl, and then behind her to locate the voice. When she moved closer I took off again through a small path and headed straight to Black Betty. I fling into the door and pry it open, my yellow rubber gloves sticking briefly before I hop inside and slam it, shoving down the lock. Her wild eyes and tangled hair ran from one window to the other. “Please!”

A much older woman and teen boy came running after her. “Ruby, Ruby, where are you?”

Abruptly, a man appeared behind the two with a large gun in his hands. Images of camp controllers flooded my mind, deepening my fear as I looked back at her hesitantly. She turned her back, about to run away from the van.
To save me, too.

          In that moment, I yanked the door open and pulled Ruby in by the back of her shirt. I motion her to hide behind the middle row of black seats. The stranger and I crouch uncomfortably in eerie silence while waiting for the danger to disperse. She starts speaking to me, asking me the same questions Liam did when I met him. I do not speak out loud. The others return back into the woods, thinking Ruby is elsewhere, and in a matter of time Liam and Chubs return to the van, bickering aimlessly like usual. I frantically search around and find a large white bedsheet, thrusting it over her as the front door opens.

“Zu, did you get into trouble?” Chubs worried, hopping into the passenger’s seat.

I shook my head. They resumed their conversation, but within a few seconds the man, woman and boy reappeared, a gunshot blasting in our direction. Liam hit the gas, the car jolting from side to side as the tires squeal.

About ten minutes later, Liam muttered, “More skip tracers? Are you kidding me? Do you realize what would have happened if we got caught? And they were shooting at us! With a gun!”

I couldn’t help but giggle, but Chubs interrupted, “This isn’t funny! Do you know what happens when you get shot?”

They started yelling at each other. Ruby and I look at each other, and I make a few gestures to her so that she’ll be out of sight. Liam shoots a worried look in the rearview and the car comes to a dead stop sending the hair on my arms shooting up. His tan face turns to porcelain while Chub stares at us in disapproval. Knowingly, Ruby quickly crawled to the door, grabbing the handle and trying to open it, but the lock creates a barricade.

“Suzume!” Liam growled. “We agreed, no strays!”

Chubs brought up the litter of kittens we’d found a few days earlier that, much to my dismay, Liam wouldn’t let us keep. In the midst of their childish fighting, they forgot that Ruby was even in the car.

“Can you unlock the door? This was a mistake!” Ruby was exasperated.

“Yeah, and you can walk to the nearest bus station,” Chubs scoffed.

I shook my head, ushering her to sit in the seat beside me. Liam looked at her, noticing the dark green numbers she wore on her clothing, “Wait, green, did you just come from a camp?”

“Y-Yes,” She hesitates, “Thurmond.”

      As she answered the questions Liam and Chubs asked, Ruby began to untense. She explained how the Children’s League, an agency helping break kids out from the government camps, had brought her to the gas station when she ran away. She profusely apologized for bringing us into danger, and that’s when the two began to warm up. Just when we believed we were safe, a tan SUV came barreling down the road, the face of the agent and his piercing gun pointing directly at Liam.

“Drive!” Chubs urged, yelling louder than I’ve ever heard.

Liam instinctively pushed on the gas pedal and swerved down the opposite direction of the road. A gunshot crashes through the glass with a shriek, missing the middle row and flying through the back. I let out a scream as Ruby pulls me into her chest, cowering over me. More ammunition blasts, this time only inches from my head. I begin to be as anxious as when we broke out. Memories of being puppeted around for three years of camp, hearing those same sounds, brings tears dripping down my face; three years of my childhood completely stolen from me. Instead of going to school and hanging out with friends, the survivors of the IAAN disease, any living adolescents, lived in prison camps so that we and our new powers could be quarantined. No freedom, no luxury, all work; yet I was too young to know much different.

The harsh bump I feel tells me we have run over a curb taking a panicked route of confusing streets. Ruby rubs my back, holding me tightly with her other hand. I melt into the warmth of her body, comforted by her big sister-like persona. When I lift my head up, the jerking of the car had become a smooth trail down the highway, and the sun had begun to set.

“Are you okay, Zu?” Chubs consoled tenderly. “It’s been a few hours.”

I nod as I glance to watch Liam look at me from his mirror. “Are you sure?”
I nodded again, seeing the concern on Ruby’s face, the one that begged for my help only a little while ago, yet, this time she was the one caring for me despite her own conflicts. She mouthed a few words I couldn’t quite make out, but I understood. We were both broken, but we had each other.

Thank you, I wish I could have told her, -thank you.