Isaac (Boy #16) cursed as he clutched his bleeding hand to his chest with his arm. In his other hand he held the weapon he had been given at the very beginning of The Program, the katana, the weapon he had used to kill several of his classmates, but clearly not without his own injuries. Besides the few missing fingers on his left hand, Isaac could not feel his manhood. At all. He couldn't remember how many times he had been kicked in the groin over the course of this one day, but he knew that once he regained feeling down there, he'd be in unbearable pain. But for the moment, he had enough pain from his injured that had still refused to stop bleeding.

"You were at the track again, weren't you?" the screeching voice racked his brain and Isaac spun around to see who had spoken, but he turned too quickly and lost his balance. He fell to the ground with a grunt as another voice erupted.

"Shut up, bitch. It's my money and I can do what I want with it."

Isaac coughed once on the ground and weakly lifted his head scanning for the people who were yelling around him as his deformed hand throbbed painfully. He went cross-eyed for a moment but shook his head and refocused his eyes. Isaac slowly stood, using his katana to lift himself up. Soon he was on his feet again, successfully maintaining his balance as he stood in one place.

"It's OUR money, you bastard!" the voice knocked Isaac down like a punch to the gut. On the ground, the voices rang in his ears as they had many times before.

"You gambled away another week's pay! What are we gonna use to buy food?" Isaac's mother shrieked as loud as she could at the man sitting at the table. Isaac stretched out a hand toward them but recoiled in fear as his father raised his voice too.

"Give it a rest!" he roared, "We'd be eating for a whole two months from that one check if that damn horse hadn't suddenly lost its energy on the last lap!"

"You always have some excuse! Our son is STARVING!"

"Shut up!" Isaac's father suddenly stood from his sitting position in front of the table and swung upwards, slapping his wife firmly on the face. Isaac winced as he watched the scene play out on the ground. He gurgled on the ground and tried to pry his eyes away. But no matter which way he looked, his parents still continued to stand in front of him. Finally they faded and another figure stood before him. He recognized the body immediately, even though its face was completely covered in trash and dirt. The small impressionable Isaac stood over his more mature bleeding body his head slightly turned in confusion. He knelt down next to Isaac and pulled up pieces of trash from the ground. Isaac closed his eyes and he became the small counterpart, watching as he sifted through the garbage in the dumpster near his house.

"I…I remember…this part." Isaac managed as two new voices suddenly ripped through the silence. The young Isaac sighed inside the dumpster at finding nothing to eat and peered out over the edge at the two men who spoke to each other inside the alley. They were barely whispering, when one seemed to get overly anxious. His voice began to get louder and louder when the other man yelled something out and produced a switchblade, sinking it deep into the frantic first man. The man gasped in shock and cursed before reaching into his own pocket, producing a shiny metal gun. The second man jumped back, pulling out the thickest wad of money Isaac had ever seen. Isaac had heard his parents fighting over money many times in the past – he knew how important money was. The second man said something but the first man clutched his bleeding side and fired the gun. Isaac cowered deep inside the dumpster, but did not dare tear his eyes away. The first man collapsed at that point, falling to the ground. Isaac cautiously crawled from the trash heap and moved to where the two men lay. He bent down and grabbed the large amount of money, and turned to leave, when he glanced back and stopped. He bent down and took hold of the switchblade and gun, placing the large weapons into his small pockets. Again he turned to leave, when he stopped one last time. What looked like some sort of plant inside a plastic bag poked itself out of one of the men's pockets. Isaac shrugged and decided to take that as well.

"Didn't know…what it was…back then." Isaac chuckled, and then stopped as the world spun around him. He inhaled sharply and turned onto his side, the world spinning along with him. He sighed as the images stopped and his memory took over, how he had come home expecting to surprise his parents with the large amount of money he had found and the other gifts too. He remembered seeing his mother crying alone in the house and shocked at all the things Isaac had brought for her. He remembered asking where his father was.

"He…never came back…" Isaac drifted off into unconsciousness.

"He's injured." Lauren (Girl #16) examined the fallen boy in the darkness. She saw that some of his shirt was already ripped off and she tore it completely, wrapping it firmly about his stump of a hand.

"What are you doing?" Larry (Boy #9) said, grabbing her arm, "You do know who that is, don't you?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" Lauren replied, pulling from his grasp frowning. They both looked down at the unconscious Isaac.

"Are you going to help every injured person we come across?" Larry asked her.

"Why shouldn't I?"

"And what happens when they come to kill us?"

"You want to let him bleed to death?"

"……"

Lauren glared at him and then turned away, wrapping up Isaac's hand with the torn fabric. She wrapped it tightly, tucking it in expertly so that it won't come undone very easily.

"We can see that he's been in his fair share of fights." Larry continued, "He's more than likely playing to win."

"I don't care."

"Damn it, Lauren! Don't you understand that we're stuck here now? We tried escaping and that failed – we're back into the game and if we don't start looking out for ourselves, then you're not going to make it to the end."

"Just me?"

Larry was silent again. He saw the realization fill her thoughts and surprisingly, Lauren turned away from him.

"I have no intention of winning. Sorry if that screws up your plan, but that's really selfish of you forcing me to be the only one to live after all this is over. You think I'll have any form of life once this is all over – with all I've seen already and all I'll see before I die."

Larry stared at her in shock. Deep inside, a knot formed in his stomach as he listened to her speak.

"I know what it takes to win – if I win, then it means that I have to play. And that doesn't just mean that I have to kill someone – it means that I have to NOT help others. For me to play, I have to leave Isaac here to silently bleed himself into death." She turned to him with a slight accusation in her eyes, "You didn't complain when I helped Nathan."

"Nathan was no threat, and I believe he still isn't. Isaac here has a sword. A blood-stained sword. That's a big enough threat for me."

"I will NOT allow people to suffer." Lauren stood and stared deep into his eyes, speaking softly but very forcefully. There was no need to repeat it, everything that needed to be said had been said. She turned away from him and grabbed her duffel bag. "He wouldn't have died for a full day if I had done nothing since he had only lost a few fingers and blood loss isn't that fast, but that bandage around his hand should keep him from losing too much more. But he'll still be unconscious for a good few hours. If it makes you feel any better, there's a good chance that he'll get picked off before he wakes up."

Larry was about to protest when Lauren interrupted him.

"Or you could just finish him off yourself if you like." She spun and focused on the box cutter that protruded from Larry's pocket. Larry followed her gaze and stared down at the weapon in his pocket. He became fully aware of its presence next to his body and considered ending Isaac himself, if only to prove a point to Lauren, never mind keep them safe. But he decided against it, since doing so would only serve to upset Lauren even further. He sighed and reached out and took her hand preparing to lead her away.

Voices.

Isaac stirred on the ground and he cautiously opened his eyes as a sentence that was spoken finally registered in his brain.

"Or you could just finish him off yourself if you like."

Isaac's eyes snapped open and he saw the two people standing over them. He grunted as firmly grasped the katana in his hand. Lauren glanced down and saw he was awake. She cried out in surprise and jumped away from him as his katana sliced through the air where her left calf had been. Larry pushed her behind him and pulled the box cutter from his pocket, holding it out before him.

Groggily, Isaac pulled himself to his feet and he glanced at the couple before him. He recognized them from his class, but he couldn't place their names, not that he cared. He lifted his sword and prepared to strike when his eyes fell on his deformed hand and the wrapping that now encased it. He suspiciously glanced over at the pair.

"Did you do this to me?" Isaac asked lifting up his hand for them both to see.

"I did." Lauren replied from behind her protector. Larry inched them both backwards. Isaac merely stared at them both in confusion.

"And why would you help me?" Isaac replied, "We don't even know each other. And besides, how the hell do you expect to win The Program when you heal the contestants you come across?"

"Way to be thankful, bastard." Larry sneered. The world spun slightly around Isaac and he could barely hear the voice of his mother explaining that his father had left them in the back of his head. He was still in no condition to fight, but he was sure he could take them both out if he wanted to.

"You just saved my life, didn't you?" Isaac said lowering his katana, the moonlight reflecting off a small portion not stained with blood. "You understand that I could kill you right now, don't you?"

Neither of them said anything, but slowly from behind Larry, Lauren nodded. Larry gritted his teeth and prepared for the strike that he knew was coming. He knew against the larger blade, he'd have a hard time overpowering Isaac. And with the added pressure of trying to protect Lauren at the same time, Larry knew he was in trouble. They were going to die.

"Fine, we're even." Isaac said, "You saved my life, and I've just saved yours. Now get out of here before I change my mind. And don't think that this makes us friends – I'm looking to WIN. If I see you again in this game, then you die. Understand?"

"We got it." Larry shot back. They slowly walked backwards and soon they were gone, running through the darkness. Isaac watched them go, almost confused as to why he had done so. He could have killed them, but for some reason he felt as though he owed them the chance to escape. And suddenly it had hit him – debt. He knew what debt felt like since he and his mother had been in considerable debt soon after his father left them. And that's what he had felt, they had saved his life for whatever reason, and that put him in their debt, and he hated that feeling. Well, in any case, whatever debt had been there was gone now since he had decided to let them go.

Isaac picked a direction to go using his compass and map. He took a few steps and became increasingly dizzy. He fell over and returned to his state of unconsciousness.

Matt's (Boy #20) head swam with fatigue, suspicion, and most of all pure terror. He wasn't exactly sure where he was or how exactly he had gotten there, but he was still alive, and that was all that was important to him. He pulled out a water bottle and unscrewed the cap, downing half of it in a single gulp. He took a big gasp of air afterwards and felt pain in his back. Matt reached his hand back and slid it beneath the Kevlar vest he was wearing to his flesh, feeling the sore spots.

"Shot." He murmured, "They…shot me."

Fear gripped his brain and refused to let go as he stumbled slightly from his lack of sleep. He spilled a little bit of his water on his shirt and he put the bottle down to wipe off the excess liquid. He stared down at the growing stain and saw it turn darker and darker. He touched it gingerly and then retracted his hand, pulling it close to his face to see it.

"Blood!" he hissed and he ripped his shirt off throwing it away from him. "No! The vest kept me safe! No blood!" He examined the vest and saw that it was still fine, that he wasn't bleeding. Matt sighed in relief and retrieved his shirt, making sure that the blood was gone. The stain was gone from his shirt and Matt smiled as he prepared to put it back on. But before he could put it back on, Matt caught a glimpse at his hands. They were covered in a dark liquid and dripped from his fingers to the forest floor. Matt cried out and threw the shirt away, madly wiping his hands on the vest.

"Shot…" he managed to say to no one and he stopped wiping his hands on his body, "They all shot me."

Matt stood, suddenly feeling a lot more aware. Everything clicked inside his head as his mind twisted around the gnawing fear.

"They all shot me. But I lived. They all tried to kill me, but my vest kept me safe." He mumbled out loud to himself, "They're all trying to shoot me."

Matt remembered earlier in the day when he had run into Amy (Girl #13). She was holding out that really large wrench, but she would have tried to shoot him, even though he was trying to warn her about Ariana (Girl #18). And then she screamed, which Matt knew would have attracted more people to that area. And they would have shot him too if they found him.

He hugged himself, feeling the safety of the bulletproof vest surrounding his torso. This vest had kept the blood inside him – had protected him from everyone else.

They're all trying to shoot me!

Matt giggled madly at the irony of it all – everyone was trying to shoot him and he had the one thing to save him from bullets – the vest. He hugged the vest closer to his body as he suddenly stopped laughing and glanced around him, unsure whether or not someone had heard him. He glanced around and his eyes fell on his crumpled shirt lying on the ground. Even in the dark he could see the blood oozing from the fabric and it chilled him. He decided that it was no longer safe to stay put there. He was tired and he knew it – he'd need some shelter to rest. And then once he had done that, he had other plans.

"They all want to shoot me." Matt muttered almost incoherently, "So I have to shoot them first. Get a gun, and shoot them. Before they can shoot me. A gun. I need a gun."

The poor boy driven to insanity then took off into the night looking for some safe place to find some rest. But that was not all on Matt's mind anymore. He had been shot at one too many times. The fear had gotten to him, twisted him. He was now completely gone. Lost to The Program.

He was playing.

Current danger zones: 2, 4, 6, 10, 11, 15, 17, 21, 24, 25, 28, 31, 41, 48, 64

Pending danger zones: 61

(26) Contestants remaining