~6~

Hooked up to all those tubes was one thing, but her parents' are involved was another. They were an endless fountain of worry, anger, and embarrassment. "Sara, dear, what were you thinking? Your car…we'll have to get you a new one." Though they talked and talked about the accident, wondering why it'd happened, how she could have done that, gone out and drove insanely late at night, Sara's mind was elsewhere.

She didn't want to be at a hospital, getting better while her friends were out doing…doing what? Fighting? Still chasing those cars? Under arrest or something?

Because after Dee had gotten those ambulances, and they'd come and gotten her, she hadn't seen Polly or David. Where they were, she didn't know. What they were doing, she had no idea. If they were in trouble, she had the answer: Yes. They were all in trouble.

Jumping up and fleeing the hospital wouldn't help anybody, though. So Sara fought the urge, every minute, to throw off the thin cotton sheet, rip the tubes from her bandaged body, and run with the little strength she had now to where those cars had left her.

"Sara, dear," said her mother, "I have to go, now, to work. I'll see you later, sweetie." Sara rolled her eyes but smiled.

"Thanks, Mom," she replied. "See you." She watched as her mother glided from the room, heels clacking on the white tile floor.

Sara sat, propped against the pillows, for several minutes. Staring straight ahead, not seeing anything. Then when the door opened, she blinked several times. The door clicked closed. "Hello, Sara," said a quiet, firm voice.

Her throat felt dry, but Sara replied, "Hey." She forced herself to take a breath. The man standing at the foot of the bed wore all black. "I thought visiting hours were over."

"I found a way in," said the man, his voice taking on a pleasant quality. As if he were trying to calm her down.

"You can't use your voice," said Sara, glowering, "to persuade me. Only Dally can use his voice. To make people do what he wants, to make them think what he wants."

"What if I…took Dallas's powers?"

Sara's eyes widened involuntarily. "Um, what?" she asked. This was an emergency. She trained her eyes on the man, willing him to catch fire. Lazar-vision, do your stuff, she thought. But nothing happened. "Um, what?" she repeated in a whisper, more to herself.

"What…if…I…took…Dally's…powers?" said the man. "That's what I said." His thin lips turned up in something like a smile.

"Did you?" Sara's breath was rapid, her voice breathy. "Oh, my God…you didn't? Is that even possible? No, they had to be granted…."

The way the man held himself, the way he continued to sneer, made Sara feel sick. "Not where I'm from," said the man. He looked at his nails for a moment, and then shoved one hand into the pocket of his black suit. "Or did you not realize, I come from—"

"Scholastic," muttered Sara. "Of course, you come from Scholastic."

"Glad we're on the same page now, Sara." The man pulled a gun out of his pocket. "Get up."

•••

Leo stood in front of what he supposed was the keypad. "Okay, guys, so, I think I know the code," he said.

"And if you don't?" asked Polly, crossing her arms. "Then what, Leo?" She raised her eyebrows.

"Be quiet, Polly," said Emma edgily. "It won't help if you're rude to Leo." Her eyes flickered from person to person. "We have to try something. Jen, Sammy, and Abby are missing."

Polly sighed. "I just hope I don't get killed."

"We'll make sure you do," Dally muttered.

"Thanks," said Polly. "Why're you in such a crappy mood?" She barely noticed the subtle glance from Dally to Ana, who avoided his gaze, her eyes staring out at a tree in the distance. "Oh…" Polly whispered. "Sorry, Dally." She walked past him though, to Ana. "Hey."

"Hey," replied Ana. "What's up, Polly?" While the two talked to each other, liking the other more with each word, the scene zoomed back over to Leo, who was sweating up a storm because he, simply, didn't know what to do.

He wanted to get Jen back. And Abby and Sammy, but mostly Jennifer. But what if this went wrong? What if it was one of those hostage situations where the girls would be killed if the gang took one step closer to them? How could he live with himself if he let something like that happen? He couldn't. Leo shook his head, blinking back angry tears. "I'm masculine, I'm not supposed to cry," he muttered to himself.

Nearby, Emma said, "What? You're crying?" and walked over to him. "Are you okay?" she asked gently.

"I'm fine," Leo said. "Just fine."

From where Dally stood, he turned to face them, his expression unreadable. "It's so nice of you to be considerate of other people's feelings, Emma," he said. "It sure makes a nice change from some of the girls here." He risked a glance at Ana, again, and his eyes were cold, hurt. "A...very...nice...change..." He swallowed hard and turned away, glaring out into the distance.

Emma looked confused. "Um, okay," she responded, then turned back to Leo. "Listen- we're all worried about them, but they'll be fine. We can get them out of there!"

Leo forced a smile at Emma's confidence. "Okay, sure," he said. "Let's do this." He called to everyone, "Yeah, I'm going to try this, now!"

David hurried forward, and Ana and Polly let go of each other's hands and followed him to where Leo was standing. Even Dally turned around and came a few steps closer, remaining a safe distance from Ana at all times. "Okay," said Leo, forcing a trembling hand forward. His finger, agile from years of playing guitar, felt around and easily found the number panel. "I don't know the code," he informed them. "But I think that I know a way in…"

"How?" Emma piped up from beside him.

Leo coughed. "I'll just explode it...."

"Are you serious?" demanded Polly. "Is that all you have?

"Well, I could try to guess," Leo muttered, focusing hard on the control box. Slowly and carefully, he raised his hand, and began to enter a code."1-800-SCHOLASTIC," he murmured as he typed. He pressed enter, and then took a large step back. The control box made a whirring noise.

"That doesn't sound too great." muttered Polly. And she was right. There was a flash of red where the control box was.

"Crap," said Leo. "I think I messed that up."

"You did, indeed," Dally replied, stepping back, too. "David where's that raft?"

"Um," David said, thinking. "Oh. I think that we, um, left it in Toronto."

"You left our only means of transportation in Toronto?" Ana shouted.

"...Yes..," said David.

"Oh my God! What the hell are we going to do now!" she yelled.

"Nothing," said Emma quietly.

"What?" demanded Ana, her face red.

Emma continued, "They're already here."

Leo looked around them; sure enough, black-clad figures were beginning to emerge from the surrounding forest. They shimmered slightly as they appeared, reminding Leo that they probably had portable force fields on them. "Can't blow them up," he murmured. "David, go. Grab his ankles!" But despite the flailing motions David made, they couldn't stay in the air; he needed his legs to swim through the sky.

The men were closing in on the group, forming a circle around them. "I'm claustrophobic..," said Polly.

"Back off!" barked Ana. She pulled out her machete, preparing to go down fighting.

"Stop!" Emma cried suddenly, her face completely white. "Let them take us!"

Ana regarded her with revulsion. "Are you kidding? And end up like Jen? And Abby? And Sammy?"

"No," said Emma slowly. "But get in. Save them. There's a lot of us."

"But more of them," Ana retorted grimly.

"That's why we let them take us," Emma explained. "So that we don't... get hurt."

"They'll hurt us anyway." Ana slashed out with her machete as a man suddenly lunged at her.

"No!" Polly yelped, throwing herself forward and smashing against the agent.

"Are you insane?" Ana gasped, narrowly avoiding making contact with Polly. "I could have killed you!"

"We have to listen to Emma!" Polly shouted. "She's right!"

"Yes, she is," Leo said, calm all of a sudden. "Let's go." And he walked towards one of the agents, holding out his hands.

•••

Abby turned around for what must have been the eleventh time. "Are we there yet?" she whined, pouting her face like a child. She had been roughly shaken from her sleep by a silent guard, who had then blindfolded her and removed her from her tower. When they were on the ground, her blindfold had been removed and she was free to walk about. Guard's eyes followed her every move, watching in case she was going to run. Instead of being taken through musty tunnels, as she had been while entering the city, she was now moving about the perfectly pristine streets. The sun, which somehow managed to shine brightly despite the fact that they were underground, was reflecting off of the beautiful apartment buildings that lined the roads. They had been walking for what must have been hours, and yet they still hadn't made it out of the residential area and into the real city. She wondered how it could stretch on so long, seemingly forever. Abby sighed, thinking about a T.V. program she'd once seen. Forever is just a state of mind, it'd informed her. So what was this place? Real? Fake? A dream, perhaps, but definitely a weird one. "I'm tired," she complained to the guard.

He glanced down at her but said nothing. Too unresponsive. It was annoying. As she was a constant talker, usually, Abby tried to keep up a conversation. "Where are you taking me?" Questions like that didn't seem to hold well with him. After about ten of those, the man's hand whipped out and slapped against her cheek. She gritted her teeth and said nothing. His actions were clear enough. He could easily do worse. And he wouldn't hesitate to, either. So Abby was silent for a few moments, seething. Her lips were set in a white line, her jaw squared. "Whatever," she muttered, crossing her arms.

The edge of the residential area was coming closer now. The buildings, only four or five stories high, began to grow into skyscrapers. More people- civilians, by the way they were dressed- began to mill around and talk in accented voices. They stopped and stared, quite rudely, as Abby and her escorts passed by. As soon as they assumed that she was out of earshot, they burst into loud whispers, making jeering comments as the way she was dressed. Abby fought back a flush. They were ones to talk, with their hair and skin dyed funny colors.

When the town fell away completely to the city, Abby was stopped and blindfolded again. Then she was marched away, guards on either side of her, while the people behind her remarked on her dilemma.

"What do you suppose this one did?"

"She looks so young..."

"A traitor? You think?"

"Oh, I do hope that we get to see a good old fashioned beheading! We haven't seen one of those in a while!"

Abby swallowed hard. A beheading? Where had she been taken to, the 1600's? But this wasn't some old-fashioned place at all. It was way too new. Attempting to ignore the never-ending volley of comments, Abby bowed her head and tried not to look afraid.

"Almost there," the guard closest to her murmured. As if he had sensed that she didn't want to say anything but was still wondering.

Abby felt herself being led up a few stone steps, then through a door and into a building. She was pushed into an elevator, which began to rise even higher. She felt nervous spasms in her stomach, then all out nausea. "I think that I'm going to be sick," she informed her closest guard. He ignored her.

When the elevator stopped, she was pulled out and taken to another room. Her blindfold was removed, her door locked, and she found herself blinking against the harsh sunlight. "Ugh," she muttered, forcing her eyes to open. "Wait..." It wasn't sunlight. Bright, florescent lights, instead. It looked amazingly like a hotel room, the kind that Abby and her family stayed in when ever they went on vacation. Abby took a few steps, and then sank down into a perfectly made bed. She sat there for what could have hours, or simply several minutes.

She wondered about the rest of the Forum Goers, hoping that they were safe, and that they were on their way to rescue her. Call it paranoia, but something about this whole situation was giving her the creeps.

She was interrupted from her reverie when the door opened, and an older girl stepped inside. The girl smiled sadly at her, but Allie was too shocked to return the gesture. The girl knelt down and began to pick trash up off of the floor.

Allie wanted to say something, but felt that she couldn't. Shocking red hair, porcelain white skin... There was no denying it, Allie knew this girl.

•••

Sammy learned three things straight away. One: The world was more screwed up than she had ever been led to believe. Two: Carla was bitchier in real life than on the phone. And three: President Snow from the Hunger Games Trilogy existed. She felt as if she were in the book Inkheart.

Now President Snow, the man that ruled the fake nation of Panem, was standing before her, talking away. Explaining things. Things Sam had never wanted to be true.

"So, where am I now?" she asked, gritting her teeth, splashing her tail downward indignantly.

"One of the more secret underground laboratories, The Shining Capital of Panem, Panem." President Snow said, sounding somewhat bored. As if he abducted teenage girls and turned them into mermaids everyday. And as if he was growing tired with it. And for all Sammy knew, maybe he did. But she wasn't one of his ordinary victims.

"Wait," Sammy said hesitantly. "Have Katniss and Peeta won The Hunger Games yet?"

President Snow bared his pointed teeth at her. "Don't mention those fools to me," he hissed. "They won last year... and then ran off into the fields of District 13."

"District 13?" Sam said, looking up again. "What? That exists?"

"They are a rebel organization attempting to take down the Capital," Snow explained. "We've had to behead some of their agents that we caught this year. It's too bad, really, that we have to keep them a secret. The people of Panem love a good beheading."

"That's sick," Sammy said in a hushed tone.

"Isn't it," said the president, giving her a smile. Snow laughed. "And yet, isn't that human nature?" He smirked, and then shook his head. "Don't worry though, we have a beheading soon to take place."

"Tomorrow, in fact!" Carla piped up from the other side of the room.

Sammy felt her insides twist up. "Who?" she asked.

"I believe that you know her," the president said. "A Miss Jennifer... Le?"

"No!" Sammy shrieked thrashing her tail around in the tank. "No!"

The president of Panem smiled evilly, clasping his hands in front of his chest. "Don't worry, Samantha," he said slowly. "I know a way that you can save her... and yourself."

"Okay," she said. Somehow, this had all sunk in easily. She was, in her own way, prepared. Reading the Hunger Games eight times helped. "What if I can prove to you that I love Peeta? Then will you let me go?"

"WTF?" asked President Snow, looking baffled. "Why the hell would I want you to do that?!"

"Oh, no reason," Sammy said, taking a sudden interest in her shiny purple scales.

President Snow regarded her expression for a moment then brushed it off as nothing. "You want a way to be let go?" he said, his eyes taking on a gleam that Sam didn't like at all.

"Yes," she said, looking back up at him. "Why? Have a way?"

President Snow nodded and said…

•••

It was still dark. It was still spider filled. And the mushrooms had begun to pop, exuding disgusting clouds of mushroom scent.

All in all, the cave that she was living in was nothing like Jen had ever read about in the hostage books that she had checked out from the library. They were supposed to be locked in a room, fed regularly, and eventually released.

But Jen? She was a regular prisoner. Worse. She felt as if she were hundreds of years back and resigned to a fate she didn't deserve

Like in witch trials, they'd hunt down poor women who weren't guilty of anything but then burned at the stake or thrown down a well anyway.

Jen was not a witch.

She was not guilty.

She had no idea why she was here.

Well, she did. Scholastic. But...why would they want her? Sure, she ran the site that attracted members away from the official one, but still. It had been approved by the great Goddess Suzanne Collins- didn't the powers prove that? Didn't the Goddess' will appease Scholastic?

Apparently, her powers didn't help at all. Because in a minute, Jen's door was open, and the first light she'd seen in days that nearly blinded her was almost immediately cut off. Blindfolded, she was led up a flight of steps. But she was so weak. Tired, not fed in days, and, most of all, thirsty. She continued to stumble with every step until she was just hauled over her captor's shoulder and carried.

"Hello?" Jennifer cried, her voice wavering. "Where are you taking me?"

The voice that responded was low, gruff, and distant-sounding. "To your demise."

"What?" squeaked Jennifer. Her throat grew impossibly drier. "Over dramatic much?"

Her captor let out a kind of roar of laughter. "Not really."

"Please!" Jennifer begged. "Let me go, please! I'm fifteen years old!

I just want to go home!"

"Doesn't matter," said the man. "You openly defied Scholastic. You openly defied the Capitol."

"The… Capitol?" Jennifer asked. She shook her head, trying to free it from the blindfold. "The Capitol doesn't exist! If this is some cruel joke, thought up by Leo, then this isn't funny! Seriously!"

"It is not," responded the man. "If the Capitol doesn't exist, where do you think you are now?"

"Leo's basement?" Jen asked, almost hopefully.

The man ripped the blindfold from her eyes, and she was immediately blinded by the sunlight once more. Jennifer squinted, attempting to see out into the great beyond. Colorful buildings rose and fell before her, impossibly tall and clear. Signs and banners reading, "Capital pride!" flew from even the tallest of these buildings, like pennants from the days of lore.

"Holy crap," Jen muttered. "It's true. It is the Capitol."

"Not in Leo's basement," the man confirmed. "You better enjoy it while you can," he continued. "After tomorrow..."

Jen turned to face him, trembling hard. "After tomorrow... what?"

The man smiled sickeningly and drew one finger across his throat.

Jennifer leaned over and felt the bile in her stomach rise up. "Oh, Holy Ripred," she gasped.

"Ripred?" Asked the man, sounding confused. "Who is that?"

"God," she said, sucking in a breath. "He was in The Underland Chronicles."

"You should know. You mentioned Scholastic."

"Never heard of that," the man asked, shrugging. "Panem is the only thing left in the world."

"What?" she asked. "But...there's a whole six billion people living on Earth's surface...Panem isn't even supposed to exist...!"

"Six billion?" the man scoffed. "Try three million. The wars, famine, and tidal waves killed everyone else."

"Huh?" said Jen. "When?"

"Ever...since...you...came...down," he said slowly.

"No!" shrieked Jen. "But I thought that the world was destroyed two hundred years in the future!"

The man nodded. "Yes. And it's been two hundred years since that."

Jennifer sank to her knees. "Four hundred years?" she murmured.

"No," he said. "Just messing with you. But two hundred years. Two hundred years ago, the world ended. One hundred and fifty years ago, the Districts rose up against the Capitol. 75 years ago, the Capitol crushed the rebellion and began the Hunger Games. And last year, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark won the games."

"Um, what?" said Jen. "What about all my friends? Are they still alive?"

"Yes," said the man. "But they're also not."

"What do you mean?" Jen gasped.

"Up on the surface, only one day has gone by," the man explained. "But that's not my point. See, the thing is- most of them are here."

"No." said Jennifer calmly. "No. You can kill me, hang me, and behead me, whatever. But do not hurt my friends."

"There are fates worse than death, Jennifer Le. And, well," the man said, lighting a cigarette and taking a long drag. "The thing is... it's a little bit too late for that."

•••

She was beautiful.

That was the only way to describe her, the ninja knew. As he watched in her window, saw her sleep, he could only smile. Taken by her fresh innocence, the sweet niceness that seemed to radiate from her, he had watched her sleep every night since he first saw her at age thirteen, swinging at a park with her friend.

And now, here she was, resting peacefully on a hospital bed. So wonderful, so vulnerable.

The ninja moved forward, about to slip open the window and glide inside, when the door opened. Long past visiting hours unless you were a direct relative.

A man spoke to her in a quiet, sure voice. Unlike a normal person, the ninja was able to hear from this far away. She was being threatened. Then when the gun was pulled out, and she was forced up, the ninja leapt from his perch hanging on the window ledge and went into action.

The ninja was not going to let Sara be taken.

As she was forced through the hospital, into a car with dark windows, the Unknown Ninja followed swiftly behind.