There were at least one hundred treadmills in the huge, low-ceiling space. Dozens were lined up against the walls, then more lined up at intervals in long rows. Just over half of the treadmills were already in use, with teenagers in white overalls and plimsolls either walking, jogging, or sprinting. Although the room had the feeling of being air-conditioned, there was also a heavy odor of sweat. A cacophony of whimpers, hampered breathing, and even crying hit our group like a wave.

The Pied Piper officer leading our group led us to the left of the huge space. It was like entering into a war zone, with each row of treadmills being their own trench. We passed teenagers, all with orange-lit Meters, walking, or jogging, or running on the treadmills. I noticed a girl jogging, with tears in her eyes, make-up running in black lines down her cheeks. She looked exhausted, her hair a frizzy mess. She paid no notice to us. Her Meter, showing orange, was flashing.

And then we moved past that poor girl, seeing numerous more jogging or sprinting in the same state of distress. Was this going to be us soon? For a moment I wondered yet again if all this was really happening. Since having the gun pointed at me it was becoming increasingly difficult to concentrate and care about the things happening right in front of me. It all felt like it was happening, but at arm's reach, close but somehow as if I were playing a video game and merely watching my body going through the motions of the tasks it needed to complete.

What was the logic behind this madness? What was the point? How would I explain all of this craziness to my friend one day?

"Find a treadmill and wait for the presentation to start," said the Pied Piper officer that had led our group in.

We did as we were told. I found a treadmill at the corner of the huge room which meant I had a view out of the tall glass windows. Beyond I could see Lintern Village lit up like the beautiful fairy tale locale it was. I could make out more teenagers being led by more Pied Piper officers down below, along the orange-bathed streets. The Pied Pipers leading their mice.

"Do you think this is a fitness test?" said Tiffany, drawing my attention away from the window.

She had taken the treadmill to my right.

"Maybe," I mumbled, "Do you think you'll be okay?"

Tiffany nodded, "Yeah," she said, but I could see the apprehension in her eyes. Like me she was barely keeping it together.

I looked to my left and saw Alex Landly had taken up the treadmill on that side. He, out of everyone here, looked to be the most composed. And why shouldn't he be? Running was his element. Exercise familiar territory. Whatever ordeal we were about to go through there was nobody in the whole building that would take on the challenge as well as Alex. He had been the school trophy winner after all. I felt a pang of jealousy hit me, a familiar feeling that was nice and nostalgic compared to the mounting anxieties of the last day. In comparison to Alex, as far as exercise was concerned, I was an amoeba. Zilch. Nothing. I could hardly run for ten seconds without getting a stitch. I had "played" rugby for two years and had never scored a try outside of practice. Never in my life had I won a sporting event worth anything. Never accomplished anything of the sort to make my Dad proud.

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A small tablet sized screen situated over the treadmill buttons lit up in front of me. A quick glance to my left and right showed that everyone had their own screen to look at on their treadmill too.

White text over black appeared on the screen, matching the words that were spoken by a woman's voice.

"You are here because your Meter device has detected you are at-risk of spontaneous-combustion-" said the voice.

One of the girls several treadmills down to my right broke into a fresh bout of tears at hearing this. The voice continued unabated.

"The Meter device on your wrist detects how close your body is to reaching a spontaneous-combustion state. If the device shows green, you are safe and will not spontaneously-combust. If the device shows orange, you are not safe, and pose a threat to yourself and those around you. If your device shows orange and starts to blink repeatedly, you are in danger of reaching a critical state. If your device turns red, you are extremely likely to spontaneously-combust."

I took a moment to look down, staring at the steady orange light showing on my Meter again. My stomach lurched and yet again my legs felt like they might collapse from under me.

The voice continued, "Our research has shown an effective means of preventing spontaneous-combustion is physical exertion. Therefore you have been brought to Lintern's Gym in order to exert yourself until your Meter reading turns green. You do not need to exert yourself if you do not wish to, however if your Meter turns red you will be escorted off the premises to a 'remote-zone' where you will stay until you either spontaneously-combust, or your Meter returns to green. If you wish to no longer exert yourself on the treadmill you may raise your hand and an officer will escort you to the 'remote-zone'. Thank you for your cooperation in this difficult time. If you would like to play this recording again then please press 'play again' on your tablet device."

The tablet device blinked off. For a moment our group stood in stunned silence. The sounds of the misery and many plimsolls hitting the treadmill mats continued all around us.

I heard a beep to my left. Alex Landly had pressed the start button on his treadmill and had started a slow walk.

No, I thought, I'm not ready for this. I'm not ready for this. I can't do this. There's no way I can do this. I'm going to die. I'm going to blow up.

I pressed the start button before I could let the panic take hold of me even more. It came as a small relief to feel the mat slowly moving beneath me. Each step I took felt as if I had forgotten how to walk. Step. Step. Step. Step.

Beep. Tiffany had pressed start on her treadmill. Several steps later she was keeping pace with Alex and I.

"This is okay," she said, smiling but with eyes that said she was under a lot of internal stress, "This means we can do something about this. We just have to exert ourselves. We'll be fine."

I let out a real, honest laugh that I hadn't meant to sound derisive, but it did. Fine?! I thought, How is any of this going to be fine?!

"Yeah," I said, forcing myself to agree. If not for my sake then for hers. "We just need to walk."

"Burgess!" said Tiffany, the whites of her eyes increasing as she looked at my wrist. I looked down and saw that my Meter was still showing orange and had started flashing.