A/N: So I guess you've already read that I don't own Suzanne Collins' books or her characters, but it seems fitting that you will read it again since I had to write it again.

Running.

They are running. She can feel the sensation of their footfalls as she comes to, her head bouncing against the rough burlap. She is being carried. By who? There are a few moments of confusion when she is not sure where she is or who has taken her, but it rushes back into her brain like water from a broken dam, wiping all other thoughts away.

The Alira. She was going after Gregor when they came at her. All she could see were faces, horribly scarred faces snarling as they grabbed her off of her hovercraft. The incredibly strong clawed fingers that forced her into the bag. The screaming and crying. The shaking. And then the blackness.

She couldn't see what level they were, but she knew that they weren't basic. No they were thinking animals. They hadn't killed her and they were smart enough to tie the bag closed above her head. She knew that they were taking her somewhere, but couldn't figure out where. The bag was bouncing on something, presumably the back of one of the Alira, and the noise blocked out all others.

The scratchy surface of the bag cut her fingers as she tried to claw out, and she felt suffocated in the heat. But she wouldn't be defeated. If she could get out then maybe she could defeat them. If only she could beat these two before Gregor got there. Then he would see that she was worth having on the team. She would show him. She had a secret.

She was a rager.

Unfortunately the thing about untrained ragers is that they seem to have a lack of control and therefore aren't as useful as they would hope to be. And Boots couldn't quite figure out how to rage at this particular moment. She was in danger, possibly moments away from death, being held captive by demons who would either eat her alive or torture her to the bitter end. Unfortunately her blood stayed un-electrified, her vision was just as bad as normal, and the adrenaline pumping through her veins didn't make her want to kill everything in the immediate area. She grunted and heaved against the bag in anguish.

***

"She did what!?" Gregor yelled into his phone.

"I told you, I went out to check on her and she had taken the spare overboard." Lizzie recited back the facts.

"But where is she now."

"I'm attempting to turn on her transmitter, but there seems to be a block. Is she nearby? The more powerful Alira sometimes jam the signals." Lizzie said

"No. We've already defeated all the Alira in this area. And there were only two lower levels. I don't know where the upper levels went." Gregor glanced around at his team who were cleaning each other up. Other than a few small wounds no one was losing too much blood.

"Wait . . . I think I've got her signal . . . No. Okay I'm going to try to turn them all off and then back on."

"Okay."

"Okay at your location I have Gregor . . . online, Creed… online, Kayla…online, Devon…online, Zeva… Online, Dalton…online, Chloe…online, at my location I have Lizzie… online, Matt… online, Mark…online, Rugger...online, Dakota…online. I can't find Boot's signal!"

"You're sure the signal is searching for hers?"

"Yes. It can't find it."

"Try using the old system" Creed spoke over Gregor's shoulder.

"No Boots never had one of those because they were team only. And they were held transmitters, now we use microchips." Gregor corrected.

"Like walkie talkies?" Zeva asked. She was new to the team, and hadn't been there for the transmition switch.

"Yeah. We used to carry them around with us, but we kept losing them in battle, so Liz upgraded us."

"Gregor!", Lizzie's voice came over the phone, "Gregor I just picked up her signal!"

"Where is she?" Gregor asked.
"Well the signal is really fuzzy, but it says that she should be right there with you. It's faint, though". The team immediately spread out looking for their lost comrade. She was nowhere.

"Liz are you sure? We can't see her, even with echolocation"

"Yeah … it's weird. It's almost like she's under you guys, but that impossible she…" Lizzie gasped as Gregor registered the words.

"Like she's . . . under us?" Gregor stared at the ground. Then he abruptly rocket into the air, dreading what he would see. And there it was. About half a block away was the edge of the long dead forest that had surrounded Central Park. He could even see the bridge and the rock underneath where he had said goodbye to a dear friend all those years ago. They were that close to it. To her. To everything.

And he knew exactly where to look for Boots.

A/N: Ahh. It's so good to write again! I've had the swine flu for the last few days and had this part of the story running through my head, and I finally felt like writing it! Well enjoy. If you have any questions don't hesitate to Review the story with anything. :)