"Oh, just look at that pretty sunset."

Cammy Gnorts held her arms upward and wiggled her fingers as she stretched, breathing deeply as she gazed at the mixing-bowl of colors splashed across the sky as the sun crept down below the horizon. Kicking the screen door shut behind her, she tugged on a pair of brown boots and strode off her back porch and toward the large horse barn in the enormous backyard.

Inside, she sidled up to a brown mare and petted its neck as it pushed up against the gate holding it inside its stall. Cammy pulled an apple out of her pocket and held it out to the horse, which leaned down and ate the fruit in two large bites. Smiling, she stroked its mane.

"It's just you and me tonight, Star. Dad's off to work, and the dummy brother is at a friend's house. Want to go for a ride?" She inquired in soothing tones, unlatching its gate and leading it out of the stall. The horse snorted delightfully in her ear, tossing her hair into her face. Laughing, she brushed the hair out of her eyes and continued, "First we'll stop by the hay pile outside so you can have some supper. Then we'll go."

She walked Star up to an enormous stack of hay just outside the barn, and immediately the stallion went to work on the nearest patch of fodder, burying its head into the grain and chewing eagerly.

"Boy, weren't you hungry," she murmured, turning around and flopping backward into the hay, smiling serenely. "I love the smell of hay. If only I didn't have all—" she paused to sneeze loudly, and sighed. "...Allergies." Turning over, she watched Star push aside some of the hay and nuzzle at something buried within.

"What'cha got, there?" she asked, heaving herself up into a sitting position to get a better look. Star scraped his hoof on the ground and snorted nervously, nosing the object again. "Did Sam leave some weird toy of his in there again? Dumb boy..."

Abruptly, a strange noise came from within the hay, near the object. Startled, Cammy leaned in and tilted her head toward the noise, straining to hear better. The sound came again, and it suddenly occurred to her that it sounded much like a groan or a grunt.

"What in the world?" she exclaimed, jumping up and pushing her hands into the hay, pulling it away from the place that Star had been nuzzling at so anxiously. She paused when her hand brushed the lump, and blurted, "It's a head!"

"Yes, and there's a body attached," a weak voice said from within the hay pile. "Could I have some help?"

Startled, she hurriedly continued to shove aside piles of hay, unearthing the person within. Grabbing their shoulders, she grunted and heaved, pulling them out. Collapsing to the ground, she stared at the newcomer as he leaned back against the hay, rubbing his head painfully. Her eyes darted from the scratches on his pale face, to the lumps underneath his shirt on his back (Hunchback? Tumor?), and finally to the bloodstain on his shoulder, which his free hand was clasped firmly over.

"Blood!" she uttered dumbly.

"So glad you noticed," he said. "Do you have bandaids? Or gauze? Or some form of help other than your just sitting there?"

"Yes!" she exclaimed. "Hold on, let me put Star back in the barn and I'll—wait, no, your blood—but Star—" She stood, puzzled and harried.

"What is Star?" he asked, head tilting up as she stood.

"Uhm, my horse," she explained, reaching and touching said animal on the shoulder. "He found you."

"Oh," the boy said as Star sighed loudly.

"Uh..." Collecting her thoughts, she put her hands on the boy's arms and heaved him into a standing position. "Star can wander around outside. More than likely he'll just eat up the hay for an hour or two. We're fenced in anyway." She let go of him and walked toward her house, gesturing for him to follow. "We have an emergency kit inside, come on."

He remained, tired and awkward, and said, "I can't see."

She paused and turned. "Can't see? Like...something happened, and you can't see, or you've always been blind?"

"Complicated," he offered. "Let's say it's a bit of both." He shrugged, shifting from one foot to the other.

She returned and put a hand on his arm, tugging him forward. "Come on. Inside. Then we'll talk."

"Talk," he repeated, wincing.

"You appear out of the blue in the fountain of hay in my backyard," she stated flatly as she guided him onto the porch and opened the door. "You expect me to have no questions?"

He wrinkled his nose as he stepped inside with her. "I was hoping you would be the type to ask no questions."

"Who could possibly refrain from asking questions about this?" she demanded. Sighing as she walked into the kitchen, she added, "Never mind. How about this: I make sure you're not about to die, then we worry about the questions. I take it you don't want me calling 9-1-1?"

He made another face as she helped him into a chair. "No, not really."

"Go figure," she said sarcastically as she dug in a cabinet and pulled out a big medical box. "You're going to have to take off your shirt, I won't be able to see the cut or whatever."

"Shot," he clarified. "I was shot."

"Shot—Oh, great," she mumbled, pulling a chair up next to him and setting the box down on it. "You're in the mafia."

He laughed. "Not exactly...I was shot by someone belonging to a type of mafia, though."

"Lovely," she replied. "So, take off your shirt. Or do you need help, or something?"

He shifted in the seat uncomfortably. "Uh, about that..."

_________

"Where are we, Max?" Angel asked softly.. The remainder of my Flock sat in the small, dark cargo space of a van. We were trapped individually within cages, each blindfolded with hands and legs bound tightly to the bars of our confines.

"I don't know, Angel. But considering we're tied to barred cages, I can guess where they're trying to take us," I replied, gritting my teeth. I was such an idiot. Really. This was the—what? Second, third time we'd been caught? And to make it worse, Iggy was nowhere to be found—shot down by some Eraser with a lucky bullet.

"Stop stressing," Fang said quietly. "We'll find some way outta this. They're Erasers, they're not the brightest invention that came from the School."

How could he tell I was stressing? I thought I was doing a pretty good job of sounding calm. "Gazzy, Nudge, you guys okay?" I probed.

"Fine," Gazzy replied from far across the cargo space. "Do you think Iggy was, you know...killed? There was a lot of blood on him before he dropped..."

"I don't know, Gaz," I replied with a sigh. "But I'm going to say 'no', because I think Iggy's too tough to die. Too stubborn."

"D'you think so?" Nudge finally said. She'd been very quiet the whole ride—out of guilt. "The one time I stop talking, Iggy needed me, and...It's totally all my fault if he's hurt. I want to go find him! I want to say I'm sorry."

"Nudge, it's not your fault," I replied firmly.

"Someone shot him, Nudge," Fang emphasized. "You couldn't have warned him of that in time."

"Exactly. It was a freak accident and a lucky shot by one of those stupid Erasers." I rested my head against the cage, pulling halfheartedly at the bonds on my wrists. "We'll be fine, guys. We'll get out, and we'll get Iggy. End of subject."

The van we'd been traveling in came to a halt, and the engine was cut off. We fell silent as Erasers climbed out of the front of the van and footsteps stomped around to the doors near us. The doors of the van were opened, as were our cage doors. The cold barrel of a gun was pressed against my neck, halting me from any escape attempt. The same happened to the others, I assume, because Angel gasped quietly and Fang's strong hand slid between the bars of my cage and found my hand, grasping it.

I felt hot breath on my face as Ari leaned into my cage and smugly said, "I hope you sleep well, Maxy. You're in for a surprise when you wake up." A click came from the gun, and I squeezed my eyes shut. Which was stupid, considering I was blindfolded—

He pulled the trigger and a needle struck my neck. I made a face, puzzled...

Oh.

Tranquilizer.