On the way back to the facility trudging down the slick wet steps with tall rock walls on either side, and with the rain falling thick and heavy in the blackness, I found myself hoping Blain, Mikayla, and Tiffany (especially Tiffany), would have had a change of heart. I imagined Tiffany racing to come find me, at the very least begging me to join her in her decision to be a part of Robert Hoffman's PUNCH program; but she didn't come after me. None of them did.

I was soaked through by the time the Pied Piper officers led me back to the entrance to the facility. None of them said a word to me but they made it clear how little they cared about my well-being, because every other minute they shoved me to make me pick up my pace.

My stomach lurched upon entering the elevator which, hours before, I had hoped I never would have to see again. The descent downward towards the third floor almost didn't seem real. It was cold, made worse because every inch of me was dripping wet. I shivered, facing the floor, knowing full well I wouldn't be getting any sympathy from the Pied Piper officers.

We reached the third floor. After going through the checkpoint, where a Meter device was put back onto my wrist, I was marched back to B-6.

Christopher and Reece were sitting atop their bunks, bleary eyed, having woken up a little to see who might be approaching their block. Neither Reece or Christopher spoke as Officer Freeman gave me one last shove into B-6, then promptly left with his fellow officers.

Too numb to care about how drenched I was, I moved over to my bunk and laid down. A few minutes of sitting in the dark staring up at the ceiling later, I heard Reece ask me a question.

"Where's Blain?" he said.

He's gone, I thought. The words however didn't leave my mouth. I simply rolled over to face the wall and, somehow despite all the thoughts swirling around in my head, drifted off to sleep.

I woke hours later feeling awful. I still felt full from all the food I had eaten the previous night. I eased myself up to a sitting position, aware of the clingy damp fabric of the overalls I was wearing.

"Ah-chew!" I sneezed, wiping my nose, which felt runny.

Great, I thought, I've caught a cold.

"Burgess?" said one of the two.

It was Reece.

"Yeah?" I said, tiredly.

Reece squatted down beside my bunk, looking concerned.

"We asked you last night about Blain, but you seemed tired, maybe you didn't hear us ask," he said.

I didn't object to what Reece was saying, so he continued.

"Well," he said, "Where is he? What happened?"

"You know Robert Hoffman?" I said.

Reece nodded. I spotted Christopher beyond Reece, sat with his arms wrapped around one knee.

I told Reece and Christopher a casual gist of what had happened at the special dinner. I didn't particularly care what either of them thought, but I felt the need to tell someone else about it.

"So you're the only one who decided not to be a part of it?" said Reece.

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

I nodded.

Reece offered me his hand to shake, the way Blain would offer me to shake his hand.

"Good job sticking it to them," said Reece.

I looked at Reece's offered hand but didn't take it; I wasn't going to forget that it was partly because of his and Christopher's stupidity that my life, and Blain's, had been close to being cut short because of their choice to go along with Holly's beliefs.

Ignoring Reece's offered hand, I got up from my bunk and walked to the doorway.

"You know," said Reece, his words sour from my refusal to shake his hand, "Maybe you should have joined the PUNCH program."

"Oh yeah?" I said, looking out to the empty white corridor.

"You're just sitting around waiting for the officers at this facility to make their move," said Reece, "If you're not going to do something about being stuck here then you might as well have taken up Robert's offer."

I had to be careful about how I phrased my words because I had the Meter device strapped to my wrist.

"I guess I got sick of compromising," I said, "It's how I ended up here in the first place."

"You might not agree with what we believe in-" said Reece, before I cut him off.

"-what was that again?" I said, facing him a little.

"Our powers are a privilege," said Reece, "A privilege which will give us the means to change the world. To make progress towards an inclusive future for everyone."

"Huh," I said, "I wonder why Robert didn't choose you two for his program? You'd fit right in."

"I can tell you why," said Christopher, speaking up from behind Reece, "We don't have to listen to some old bastard telling us how the world should be. We're the next generation, so we'll decide what future we want to make for ourselves."

I shook my head a little whilst grinning mirthlessly, "How do you find the energy to care?" I said, "I'm just trying to get through the day, not change the world."

"It's called having empathy," said Christopher, "You should try it sometime."

"Yeah," I said, dismissively, "Maybe I should."

I recognised Mike's voice on the speakerphones dotted throughout the third floor.

"B-block mice, make your way to the cafeteria for breakfast," said Mike.

This call was repeated three times.

Reece climbed to his feet and stood beside Christopher. They embraced each other in a hug and then, growing longer claws on their newly enlarged hands, they carved with their nails a sentence onto the wall.

With the sentence written the pair looked at each other the way professional athletes look at their teammates before a big game.

My stomach lurched at the sight of what they had written there. They started to leave the block but I stood in their way, wincing a little from the pain of throwing both my hands up.

"What are you going to do?" I said.

Reece and Christopher were on me in an instant, pinning me against the wall, their hands furred and clawed.

"Keep your mouth shut," said Reece, his eyes feline and yellow and inches from my face.

I felt claws at my throat hard enough that I felt the need to check for blood, but dared not move with the claws still digging there.

"Are you going to say something?" said Reece; his teeth were fanged, and his face was taking on an increasingly feline quality by the second.

"I won't say anything," I said in a shaky whisper.

"You better not," said Reece, "Don't get in our way."

His feline qualities diminished away a mere moment before a Pied Piper officer came patrolling past the block. The officer stopped to stare at us.

"Is there a problem here?" said the officer.

For a moment I considered telling the officer what Reece and Christopher were planning to do. I didn't have a full picture of what they intended, only that it was going to happen very soon. Maybe within the next ten minutes.

Telling the officer what they might be planning was likely going to speed up what the pair had planned, so I chose instead to keep my mouth shut; not because they had threatened me, but because it seemed the only way to buy myself time to make a move of my own.

"We're fine," I said, "Just heading to breakfast."

"Get moving," said the officer.

The officer stood waiting for us to leave our block, and followed behind us on the way towards the cafeteria. For a horrible moment I thought he might spot what Reece and Christopher had written on the wall, which read: Christoper & Reece Were Here.

Like me last night they had no intention of returning to B-6.