Gone Again: A different perspective and outcome for those in the FAYZ

It was the first meeting of the Council when things started to go south. Mike Paylor, a 15-year-old who had just conquered the poof last week, hadn't expected everything to be resolved, but he had wished at least something would be accomplished. He had been excited for his first Council meeting. After the legendary Sam Temple and his followers had gone off on an expedition to try and find out more about the wall and how far underwater it went in the ocean. A new council had been drawn up, and things had been doing better. People honored Sam, but secretly hoped he would never come back. And he didn't. With the first meeting of the new council, everyone was desperate for further improvement. Instead, things got worse. The council had fought among themselves and disbanded. Organization had failed. It was time for chaos, and Mike was terrified.

"Mikey? Hello?" a girl's voice called tentatively from the threshold of the door. Mike had retreated into an old house that would probably collapse at any second. He felt sick staying in his old home, his own refuge against the world before the FAYZ, and no one could find him here, so he'd thought. For a moment, Mike froze, but he regained his composure in time to stuff himself in the closet. The ancient Purple Heart wood creaked as he closed the little door behind him and held his breath. Even the slightest sound seemed loud, enhanced, deafening, when Mike was fearful for his life. Who knew who the voice could have been? With the FAYZ, all bets were off.

"Mike, I know you're in here. I saw you in the window a second ago," the unidentified voice continued, exasperated. Mike heard the door to the room be shoved open. He tried not to gasp and dug his nails into the palm of his hand in fright. Who was at the door? The closet had no peepholes. It could have been that girl Diana he had heard about, the one who worked for/with Caine. Mike was deathly afraid of Caine. The cruel boy haunted his nightmares and left an echo in his head every morning that wouldn't be displaced until at least noon. It was horrible.

Suddenly, the closet door sprung open, and Mike practically fell out. His body was rigid. He couldn't move. Is this what a panic attack feels like? He wondered in his brain. I can hardly breathe. It was not a fun experience.

"MIKE! Hello? Are you listening to me? I've been looking for you all over town. You've got to stop running away." As soon as he could operate his neck, Mike raised his head and looked up at the one who had spoken. He realized he had fallen to the ground, and his vision was blurry. Mike reached out a hand for the girl to help him up. If he was still alive, she probably didn't want to kill him.

"There we go..." the girl muttered with a smile, grasping his hand in her own and yanking upwards. Mike was jolted to a standing position, and gradually the blood traveled down from his head. Something pricked him in the arm.

"Ouch," he choked out. This startled him. I can talk? That's a good sign. Mike thought to himself. Maybe I'm not dead yet. Damn it, I'm thirsty, though! After another needle-poke in his arm, Mark regained proper senses. He could breathe again. His mind was working properly. He forced out a quick 'thank you' and stabilized himself by resting his hand on the wall.

"Hm? Oh, you're welcome. It's just water, though. In an injection. I thought you hated shots, but whatever. It was better than nothing. Should last you a little while," the girl mused, then looked back at him.

"Mikey? Can you hear me?"

Mike glanced up at her face and almost fell backwards again. As his mind registered a pale face, curly dark blonde hair, greenish-gray eyes, and a concerned expression, there was no doubt in his mind that he knew this girl. It was his only friend since the beginning of the council: Chloe Davis.

"You okay there?" Clearly, Chloe was concerned. Mike nodded.

"I think so. Sorry, I thought you were a predator or something..." he grumbled. She held back a laugh.

"Thanks a lot. Yes, I am clearly a big, scary monster. Rar!" Chloe cried, waving her arms around in the air and mimicking a dinosaur. Mike smiled. It was nice to cheer up for once, but the joke had some sickening subtext. At any moment, a monster really could attack. Anything was possible.

Still, the idea of Chloe as a monster was just too ludicrous to pass up. The girl was tiny, and uncomfortably skinny, which wasn't a good thing. But while the obvious malnutrition wasn't particularly attractive, it wasn't abnormal, either. Everyone in the FAYZ was underweight. They had gotten used to it. 'Average' had been re-defined. So, Mike smiled. He smiled because he needed to smile about something, and any excuse would do, even if it were just a fleeting silly thought.

"You'd make a horrible monster. Anytime you ate someone you'd start apologizing and lose your monstrous reputation," he responded, earning a grin right back from her.

"As if! I'd be all 'NOM, NOM, NOM! RAR!' and they'd be like 'NOOOOO!' and I'd gobble them up all fierce-like. Totally, 100% accurate. Deal with it," Chloe disagreed. The girl may be quirky and sweet, but she certainly is stubborn... Mike concluded. It was a fairly correct analysis.

"Mikey? Hello? You spaced out again," Chloe grumbled with a frown, crossing her arms. He looked at her blankly.

"What? Sorry, I wasn't listening."

She dropped her head and gave up.

"I am well aware of that. Ugh, whatever! Persephone and the rest of the Council want t see you outside," Chloe said, leading the way to the door. Mike was not happy about this. He didn't trust Persephone. Persephone was Chloe's elder sister. They looked the same, aside from Persephone's dark hair, but had very different personalities. While Chloe, at her worst, was the most annoying and unreasonable person on the planet, Persephone was just plain evil. She was smart, and she knew it. She confused people for fun.

"No chaos?" he asked, hesitating to follow his friend. She dipped her head and repeated,

"No chaos."

With relief, Mike strolled outside into the dank, gloomy air and prepared to meet his doom, just in case. After all, Persephone was a wild card, and, like many things, Mike Paylor was absolutely terrified of her.