After Donald and I returned from our walk the unspoken question of whether or not I intended to remain their guest at the farm lingered between us.

Once we were back inside the house Donald found his old laptop for me to use. I took it gratefully and sat at the kitchen table, in the same spot I had sat in twice before, with the laptop slowly booting to life.

Donald excused himself to handle a few errands around the farm which needed tending to. I hadn't seen Sienna but, after enhancing my hearing for a few moments, I could hear her knitting in a rocking chair on the first floor.

The internet browser slowly opened, ready for me to use.

I quickly found myself engrossed reading numerous online articles:

The United States agrees to Military Presence in the UK Following the Pied Piper's Return Act.

The article was nearly a month old and had been updated several times since its first posting.

Not only was the United States sending soldiers to the UK, they were also sending military vehicles and weapons. And, to make things even worse, the military had arrived in the UK around the same time I had accepted the offer to go to the Wedder Gorge facility.

The bottom of the article led to another:

UK Government Unveils 'Return Passes' to Evacuated Teenagers Proven to Be Non-MICE.

A section of the article read:

The UK Government's 'Pied Piper's Return Act' has faced a great deal of public outcry in the last month. A particular point of contention has been the methods the Pied Piper's Return operation has used to test teenagers for spontaneous-combustion risk, in particular the use of what has now infamously become known as the 'Treadmill Torment'.

Many youths our journalists have spoken with have told us they were subjected to running on treadmills until the point of collapse on up to four different occasions in the span of three weeks. Several deaths have occurred due to these tests. An inquiry into the Treadmill Torment tests are said to be on hold by the UK Government.

Susan Tuffnidge, Head of the UK's Pied Piper operation, had this to say:

"Whilst we are aware of the public concern regarding our methods to sort the at-risk from the non-at-risk, what I am proud to say is that we have effectively sorted a huge majority of the evacuated youths who are now clear to return home to their families."

When asked whether she would do anything differently:

"There is a great deal I would have done differently, however what must be understood is the sheer scale and unprecedented nature of the threat to this country and its great people."

Susan Tuffnidge had this to say regarding the newly announced Return Passes:

"The passes will allow all teenagers proven by our extensive tests not to be at-risk of spontaneous-combustion to return home. The passes will need to be carried at all times for the foreseeable future, as there are many at-risk youths who have broken the law and chosen to remain untested. The Return Passes are a necessary measure for a return to normalcy for youths who obey this country's laws."

Transportation of Return Pass-holding youths to their homes has begun this week.

I almost closed the laptop out of frustration. Worse than the blatant lies about the spontaneous-combustions, which were fake, was how they were seemingly going to get away with it.

I should have pretended I couldn't keep up during the treadmill torment, I thought. I tried to imagine myself having the intelligence to act like I couldn't keep running on the treadmill. Alex Landly had given up.

What if he was only pretending to give up? I wondered, with a tinge of dread.

No, I thought, remembering how exhausted and at the end of his tether Alex Landly had looked.

There was no way he had faked giving up.

You didn't know, I thought, trying to remind myself that, at the time, I really didn't know whether the spontaneous-combustion threat was real. For all I knew at the time I could have exploded. I also had no idea that I even had latent powers waiting to come to the fore for the first time in my life. If I had known I would have done things differently, but I didn't.

So that's that, I thought.

Another article headline read:

Shocking Footage Challenges Everything We Know About MICE threat

There was an embedded video at the top of the article.

I pressed play on the video.

"Oh no," I said, aloud, putting a hand to my mouth. What I saw made me feel as if Holly was driving her claws into my stomach all over again.

The footage was from the Wedder Gorge facility, the exercise area in particular. A large portion of the exercise area could be seen from a high-up corner angle.

And there, near the entrance of the huge space, sat around twenty teenagers in blue overalls. Among them was myself, Tiffany, Mikayla, Blain, Adam, Walter, Christopher, Reece, and Holly.

The footage, lasting about twenty seconds, showed the moment where Adam lost control of his were-cat form and became the hulking were-lion creature Blain went toe-to-toe against. The clip showed Holly's face being slashed by Adam's claws, leading to her transforming into a hulking cougar-beast. It was surreal seeing the incident I had lived through from a new vantage point.

It was starting to make sense why the Pied Piper officers had allowed Holly and her followers to have the so-called mindfulness session in the exercise area.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

It was for this very purpose. They wanted proof that teenagers like us could become monsters.

Now this footage was known to the world.

My family has probably seen this, I thought.

And maybe my friend has too.

My face was clear to see on the footage. Though far away, the footage was crisp and clear and high definition. The video had been re-uploaded onto various platforms with the views in the tens of millions.

Despite my better judgment I read the comments to these videos:

* Welp. The world is doomed. Monsters exist now. RIP everyone (five hundred likes)

* They're monsters! They need to be locked up! (four hundred likes)

* What is the government doing about this? We can't have monsters like this in society! (two hundred likes)

* Furries are real bros! (one hundred and five likes)

* Dawn of superheroes and villains lads. Wait and see! (nine likes)

The clip was short enough that it showed very little of what came before or after, and the footage was silent. The idea that millions of people in the world had seen this footage was too much to take in all at once. I found myself watching the footage and replaying it several times just to give my mind a chance to process things.

I went back to reading articles. I flinched at the next headline which caught my eye:

UK Government Sanctions 'Piper Task Force' to Arrest Evolving MICE Threat

First section of the article read:

Today the UK Government has announced, in partnership with the US military, a new 'Piper Task Force' in order to combat the evolving MICE threat.

"The concern regarding spontaneous-combustion of at-risk youths has changed," says Head of Pide Piper Operations Susan Tuffnidge, "Our top scientists unanimously agree the threat of spontaneous-combustion events has passed. The nature of the threat has evolved to MICE taking on extremely dangerous forms. We would like to reiterate that all Return Pass holders are not at risk of taking on such forms and should not be considered dangerous."

Gordon Stowell, Head of the Pied Piper's Operation in the United States, had this to say regarding the Pied Piper Task Force:

"MICE are a danger to society. Those who have submitted, and continue to submit, to containment under the Pied Piper's Return act will receive safe and effective care. Those who choose to break the law will be subject to arrest and punishment. I'll make myself nice and clear to any MICE that think they are above the law: we will find you, and you will submit to arrest, or you will face the consequences."

Some critics of this joint operation question the UK Government's decision to allow the Pied Piper Task Force (PPTF) to use lethal force, along with numerous other powers to arrest MICE, including the searching of residences and places of businesses suspected to harbor MICE without warrants.

That was about as much as I could stomach to take in.

I sat back in my chair and became aware of the building unease which had taken hold of me.

My life is never going to be the same, I thought, It's never going to return to normal.

I needed to think about my next move. Now I had the Pied Piper Task Force, the PTF, to worry about on top of everything else.

Even if I did leave Donald and Sienna's home tonight, it wasn't as if I could return home to my family. Without a Return Pass I was a fugitive. Did that mean my only way back to a normal life was to hand myself in?

That's never going to happen, I thought, not after just barely escaping the Wedder Gorge facility with my life.

I thought again of all the other teenagers that hadn't escaped. That had been murdered.

You survived a nearly impossible situation, I told myself, Don't let it go to waste.

I heard Sienna coming down the stairs before I saw her enter the kitchen. She set a huge folder onto the table.

"That's everything Donald has on Chellam," said Sienna.

She lent against the table and fought to catch her breath. She sat down in the chair beside me. When her breathing steadied she patted me gently on the shoulder.

"Would you like to stay another night?" she said.

I wanted to say yes, but I stopped myself. Instead I gestured to the laptop screen.

"Do you really want to risk having me here?" I said, "I think it's safer if I leave."

Sienna nodded.

"If that's what you want to do then that's okay," she said.

She gestured over my shoulder to a wooden shelf which had a bunch of religious imagery on it, as well as lots of china cups and plates.

"There's a tin there," she said, "Could you hand it to me please?"

I got up right away, doing as she asked. I pointed to the likely tin and she nodded with a smile that it was the correct one.

I handed it over to her. It made me a little sad to see the state of Sienna's arthritic left hand. She had a bit of trouble opening the tin but finally managed it with a sudden pop.

"I want you to have this," she said.

She took what looked like a length of white string from the tin. A little medal was hanging from it.

"This," she said, "Is a Saint Christopher medal. Catholics wear this because Saint Christopher is the Patron Saint of Travellers. Would you like to have it?"

She held the necklace out for me to see.

"Sorry," I said, "But I don't believe in this kind of stuff."

"No?" said Sienna, "Pity. Would you wear it for this old girl?"

What was I going to say? 'No?'.

"Sure," I said.

Sienna's very wrinkled face lit up with joy.

"Thank you," she said.

With a gesture she ushered me to bring my head closer. I did as she wanted and she slipped the string necklace and the attached Saint Christopher medal over my head.

I didn't feel any different wearing it, except maybe grateful for the kind gesture.

"And," said Sienna, rummaging into the tin again.

Not more religious knick-knacks, I thought with mock-dismay. This time round she retrieved two one-hundred pound notes.

"I want you to have this," she said.

"I can't," I said, gently.

I didn't know how much money Donald and Sienna had. Two hundred pounds was a lot to hand over. I wanted the money, but being handed it by a nice old lady that might not be in full control of her mental facilities (for all I knew) seemed to put me at risk of being scummy.

"You're going to take it," said Sienna, sternly with a touch of humour in her tone, "Or I'll be very cross. You don't want that, do you? I can be very not-nice when I'm cross."

"Does Donald know about this?" I said.

"Of course," said Sienna, "It was his idea. It would be nice of you to thank him when he comes in."

It was still hard for me to reach out and accept the money placed into my palm.

"Thank you," I said, "I really appreciate it."

Sienna waved a playfully dismissive hand at me and got up from her seat. After putting the lid back on the tin she took it back onto the shelf.

With her back to me she said, "So do you think you'll stay another night?"

"Sure," I said, "One more night couldn't hurt."

Boy was I wrong about that.