Thanks a lot for staying with me! Now all the characters have been introduced, and action will follow. With 30 kids, the story isn't that long - but the characters have to be well defined. Enjoy! Poll open. :)

Michael Spencer (Boy #11) squatted among the bushes in zone C10, fearing any of his classmates was ready to shoot him; he used to be a very withdrawn, silent boy, despite being the star player of Jefferson High's soccer team. Around the beginning of the game, he neared the rocks on the east and heard a shot very close to him, which scared him even more. Grasping his Colt Single Action Army revolver, he finally stood up and looked around. Suddenly a human figure appeared, only as a shadow. He didn't care, scared as he was: he cocked the hammer (succeeding only after a few seconds, his fingers were shaking), and shot, but missed. The mysterious person then disappeared to the southwest. Michael waited a while, then walked away, finally finding shelter in a neglected, abandoned small house in the middle of a weed infested garden, in zone C8.

Thomas Reed (Boy #9) kept on running, confused. Why the hell did Michael shoot at him?! They were friends, damn it! The bullet burnt his left shoulder, but luckily not too much. And what the hell was he going to do with that stupid pepper spray?! But most of all, he was cursing his skater friend Mark for not waiting for him! Or was he too lost in his stupid daydreams about vampires?! Or maybe fearing them in the night?! But if Michael was playing such happily, there was no guarantee Mark was not going to kill him (and maybe drink his blood…). Of course he couldn't know Mark was already lying dead in the church with a wooden stake through his heart.

After all, he could spray somebody and steal their weapon. Not a bad plan, he could do it even with a hostile Mark. Just a swift push, a spray, and the enemy goes in a daze, maybe even loses his eyesight… he grinned. But even this evil grin somehow seemed bright as Tom's vivid green eyes shone. He used to be extremely popular among the girls who occasionally showed up around the skating grounds… and he took advantage of it, being much more skilled in the acrobatic evolutions than Mark, or so he thought. He needed to hide to gather his thoughts. He glanced at the houses to the west as he stopped.

Mary Rogan (Girl #12) could still see Jonathan Stanley's horrible death, and the sound of the gunshots still echoed in her ears. No doubt, her classmates are all merrily murdering each other, how many of them could be added to Maddie's, Fran's or Hannah's body count? Mary, generally sober, calm and mature, completely turned inside out, she couldn't trust anybody any more. Maybe… that one boy! That lovely, kind, strong boy!

Then again, what about this stupid weapon, a sword! These weren't the Middle Ages! When she took the backpack, it was pretty heavy and something seemed to be sticking out of its side. Anyway, Mary could hold it quite steadily.

"Ow!" her long, light brown hair suddenly got caught in a branch, and her elastic ripped out if it. Zone A9, in the middle of the forest.

As she rubbed her sore head where quite a lot of hair had been torn out, she heard something crack behind her.

"Who's there?" she rose the sword with both hands.

"Mary, Mary dear! Stop, please!" Nicholas Wallace (Boy #14), the muscular sportsman stepped out, his shoulder-lenght straight blond hair a little messy.

"Nick… N-Nicky…?!" Mary couldn't believe her eyes.

Him? Him? Nicky… Nicky… Oh, thank goodness! Nicky!

"Yes, it's just me!"

"Oh, Nicky!" Mary threw herself in his arms without ceremonies.

In the months before, there was a gossip of them having something, though only Mary showed her feelings openly; the boy never reacted.

But now Nick, the tallest boy in class, lowered his head and kissed Mary passionately.

"Great sword!"

"Thanks…" Mary was melting away "and… and yours…?"

"This" Nick showed up a bowling ball.

"Um…"

"Nothing to do with this one, eh?"

They sat under the bushes embracing each other.

"Mary?"

"Yes?"

"Are you… playing?"

"No idea."

"Do you trust me?"

She didn't answer; her hands were still grasping the sword tightly.

"So you don't."

"Oh Nicky, no! I don't know! Now I do… but…"

"I see" he smiled and nodded.

They were to stay together now, no matter what.

George Adams (Boy #1), seeing the sword and the bowling ball, found it safer to retreat. He looked at the bottle with H2SO4 (sulfuric acid) written on it; no use of that for now. Of course he didn't skip the chemistry classes, he knew sulfuric acid was a cruel and deadly mixture, but it was totally impossible to just sneak up on Mary and Nick and spill it over them. He snuck out of the forest, then stood up proudly. George Adams, the trendy boy. George Adams, the oldest one in the class. George Adams… Lily Bell's boyfriend! He walked with fast, steady steps across the streets, going for the southwest. Nobody would dare attack him. If some silly chicks like Becky or losers like Dora died, it was their fault. He felt a little sorry for Peter, but not enough to shed as much as a single tear. Now, the only ones who might try to kill him were the losers, like Lindsay for calling her a retard. Childish, stupid girl; she couldn't even shoot him from a metre away. But what if he runs into Lily? Fun will be granted. He grinned and walked a little faster. He saw no one around.

But someone did notice him: Gabriel Donaghy (Boy #4) the somewhat girly-faced pretty boy, with cold green eyes and wavy golden locks of hair. He caught a glimpse of George from a first floor window of a house in zone D8.

He didn't attack, not that he could with the crowbar he received.

He slid down to the floor, his back against the wall of the bedroom. The best looking boy in class, the tenor soloist of the choir (Daniel didn't get a solo because of him) was scared. Dora, often his partner in duets, was no more… Peter, with whom he used to go to sports events, was dead too… And what was he going to do with that single crowbar? Not that he wanted to kill or hurt anyone. Gabriel's cured apperance and attention to tidiness was rare among boys; he was also trying to be kind with everyone. All this helped a lot in guaranteeing his incredible popularity and success among the girls. When the wonderful soloist isn't a proud, conceited jerk, but such a friendly, warm-hearted boy, who right after the productions runs to audience to hold high his six year-old sister, Marion, asking her how did she like his singing…

He lowered his head as a few tears ran down his pale cheeks. He hated Miss Durham and her stupid Training…

It had to be around half past eight in the morning. Gabriel took a síp of water, and was just munching on some bread when his blood froze: a crash was heard from the ground floor, as if someone had broken a window! He himself had entered forcing the small back door open with the crowbar (at least he could put it to use), but barricated it from the inside. He put the food down and picked up his weapon; his fingers turned white.

Steps were heard, then the staircase began creaking. Gabriel couldn't run. The door of the bedroom opened slowly… Gabriel stood ready. Maybe they could talk about it, oh please, no…

Thomas Reed (Boy #9) obviously wasn't of the same opinion: as he saw the other boy, he immediately sprayed the pepper spray in his face.

"Aaaah!" Gabriel could hardly see, and he felt as if his cheeks had been set on fire. He could somehow catch a glimpse of Tom's head, though, and hit it with all his force. Then darkness engulfed him, and he fell to the floor unconscious.

"Arnie, what's taking so long?! Don't bother about your fireworks this time, okay?!"

"Hmm, but there are some really nice small New Year's Eve petards here, and… oh, okay!" Arnold Ledger (Boy #7) had been in the shop of zone G8 for quite a while now, while his best friend Edward McGrant (Boy #8) stood on guard outside.

"Here" he finally exited "here's a knife and a manual hedge trimmer, you can give me back my gun now."

Eddie nodded and handed back the Sig Sauer.

Arnie knelt down and put in his bag a new bottle of water, some coke, chips, cookies, some cans of food, bags of soup, several boxes of matches (Eddie rolled his eyes, but preferred not to comment) and even a few bars of chocolate.

"These sure aren't rotting yet."

He had hidden a large bag of pepper in his pocket, though; the slightly pyromaniac firework-lover had a plan.

"We can come back here later. Now, let's hide, maybe there" and he shot out the lock on a door.