A night later, Krit and Syl agreed to take us out to a Broadway production. Dad was still pouting-or irritable, I wasn't sure which-and lagged behind while we walked down the brightly lit streets. He was wearing the leather jacket that I had given him at his birthday, which seemed like ages ago, and appeared to also be dressed in a borrowed pair of clothes from Krit. I assumed this because I had never seen Dad wear dress slacks that were slightly too tight for him.

Syl was dressed in a sleek, periwinkle dress with high slits up both sides, along with her curls piled on top of her head, and a gauze veil to cover the burn. Wearing a chic scarf to cover her barcode, she clutched Krit's hand freely, apparently no longer caring what Dad thought of their relationship. Krit himself was decked out in a mocha sweater complete with black slacks. As always, he managed to look better than everyone else without even trying.

Case was wearing a short sleeved blue shirt that waved in the breeze as we walked down the sidewalk along with black pants that fit loosely in just the right places. He stayed beside me all the way to theater, but didn't dare grab my hand. I wasn't sure why he did so, yet, knowing that this was Case, I didn't question his motives. He may have been only a few years older physically, but on the other hand, he was light years ahead of me in wisdom.

I wore one of Syl's dresses. Since I was slightly taller than she, it came up higher than I would have preferred, which ended up causing some irked glances from Dad. In truth the dress, a creamy white that shimmered and shined under the streetlights, came only an inch or two above my knees. It wasn't that short.

Syl had briefly explained to me about the play while she was searching for my dress earlier in the afternoon. I guess that some of their old friends had given them tickets if they'd have a cameo in the play. But, anyhow, the play, I figured, was probably going to be far too sappy for my liking. From what I understood out of Syl's droning, a man tries to escape his past by running away. While away, he meets up with some beautiful girl with whom he plays smoochy face with, then she dies trying to save him, and he realizes that he really has to go home to be with the rest of his family. Like I said before, pathetic. If I was single, I'd at least be looking forward to the guys in tights, but I saw it best to control myself. Besides, Syl said that the guys wouldn't wear tights in this show anyhow.

We finally arrived at the building with my feet aching from the high heels; I definitely found tennis shoes more comfortable anyhow. Yet, due to the fact I wasn't exactly sure what was on the cement we were standing on, I figured it best to leave my shoes on until inside and sitting down.

The building wasn't fabulously enormous like the skyscrapers that you hurt your neck when looking at, but at the same point it wasn't easy to ignore. Smashed in between buildings, which I believed to be apartments-Krit later explained it was connected to the main theater-two revolving doors constantly turned, letting people filter in and out like a dripping faucet. Fortunately, we had made it before the faucet was turned onto high power. Rows of firefly lights were neatly arranged around the headlines advertising the plays. Not bothering to read all of the titles, I followed the group inside.

The minute that Krit and Syl walked inside, the entire place became alive. Cries of "Jacob!" and "Anne!" filled the room. With a curious glance at Dad, he nodded his head, pleased with them.

"Looks they at least remembered some of their training," he muttered more to himself, but knew I was listening nonetheless.

Immediately, the newfound "Jacob" and "Anne" were whisked away to start preparing. In a matter of seconds, the hardcore soldier, lovey-dovey Krit and Syl were gone, having been replace by two celebrity actors decked out in the latest sleek fashions with the names of Jacob and Anne. Personally, I wasn't sure whether to be sick or happy for them that they had to disguise their lives like they did.

Dad, Case, and I were left to fend for ourselves as we attempted to figure out how to get to our seats. Naturally, Dad was too proud to ask for directions, and Case appeared more interested in the "classical romantic artwork" than getting seats, so, being the woman of the group, I was forced to ask for directions.

The ushers were decked out in nice little suits, and one of them immediately noticed me and began the old "roving eye" deal. Clearing my throat louder than necessary, I approached him with the stealth of tiger, letting him know not to mess with me.

"Excuse me, could you help me? I'm not sure when my seats are," I told him with the best "You'd better not touch me, but at least help me or else your name will be crud in less than a millisecond" voice that I could manage.

Roving Eye Boy got the hint. Snapping to alertness, he smiled. "May I see your ticket?"

I produced the three tickets from my purse, which I handed over to Roving Eye.

"Left wing balcony. Up the stairs, take a right and down the hall," he replied. "Some of the best seats in the house."

"I'm sure you say that to everyone," I responded, taking the tickets from him.

"No, because not all of the seats are like that."

"I see."

"Is there anything else I can assist you with?"

"I'm leaving now," I said, turning back around to fetch Dad and Case.

"Have a good evening."

"Wait. You can help me with something."
He would've fallen into my lap had I let him. "Yes?" he replied far too eagerly.

"You watch my ass as I walk away, and you can help me direct my fist right to your nose. Got it?" I hissed.

He nodded meekly.

Smiling the brightest that I could, I chirped back, "Have a pleasant evening too."

Once I gave the tickets to Dad and Case, we were able to figure out where we were going-with my help, naturally-and settled down easily. Upon being seated, I sat down and began to massage my aching feet.

"You ok?" Case asked, who was seated on my direct right.

"Yeah. It's what I get for wearing high heels."

"Can't hurt that bad," Dad muttered from my left.

"You want to try wearing heels for a day and see how it feels?"

"No thanks," Dad replied and stayed quiet for some time after that.

After a couple minute waiting period, the lights dimmed and slowly, music began to grow. The curtains parted, revealing a lone figure walking through what was supposed to be a forest. Apparently, the character had just woke up from sleeping the night away. As they walked across the stage, the music became more voluminous, and the person started to sing. Finally, I realized that this person was Krit! Never before had I heard him sing before, and his voice came out with a warm, hot cocoa like feeling. The song built in strength and pretty soon I could feel the seat vibrating as the musical notes swelled. From what I could understand, Krit's character had been on the run for his whole life-and still was-but all he really wanted was a life where he could become part of natural society.

All in all, the play wasn't nearly as horrid as I had assumed it to be. Syl played the part of Krit's lover, and when they sang together towards the end right before she died, I don't think that I had ever heard anything so beautiful. Add in the melodious cry of the flute, with the timpani drums rattling in the background, with the tinny triangle and it moved me to tears. When Syl "died" at the end of the play, and Krit was crying over her "death", I saw Dad even wiping at his eyes. Perhaps there were other characters-such as the friend that Krit's character goes to when in a time of need, and the long lost father of Krit that is later on murdered-but they were all minor compared to Syl and Krit in my eyes.

Upon ending, I jumped up from my seat and started to cheer zealously. Pretty soon the entire theater was applauding and the patter of clapping rolled around me. The curtain opened and all of the cast took a bow, which led to more enthusiastic shouting from me.

Case said that he wanted to talk to Krit and see how some of the special effects worked, so Dad and I figured that it was best to start heading to the hotel. After all, Krit and Syl would be cleaning for awhile, and neither of us wanted to wait around that long. Sure they were family, but sleep is also a tempting option as well.

By the time Dad and I had exited the building, the streets were clear-as clear as they could be for late night New York-and the moon was high in the blackened sky. A harsh wind nipped at me, and I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to make the goosebumps go away.

Dad, seeing my discomfort, shrugged his jacket off and handed it to me. "Here," he said, holding it out.

"No thanks."

"'Lanza, take it. You're cold and I'm not," he responded with great authority.

Reluctantly taking it from him, I found it to be wonderfully cozy and smiled at him. "Thanks."

"No problem."

We had walked about three blocks when Dad stopped dead in his tracks, glancing around uneasily. I could see that his eyes were darting about crazily and all of his senses were on the utmost alert. Trying to read his mind, I found it unusually scrambled. Whatever was wrong was not good.

"What-?" I began, but he cut me off with a sharp hiss. After a tense moment, Dad turned back around and continued walking. I followed him, unsure of what he had heard or saw. Then, he stopped abruptly again. Started. Stopped. Started. Stopped. Finally, when he halted for the last time, he whipped around a corner, grabbing me by the wrist so that we waited, pressed against a brick building.

"Dad-" I started to say.

He clamped his hand over my mouth. Then, in an extremely low voice, "This doesn't look good 'Lanza. You can run if you want."

"But I-"

Out of the shadows came six men dressed in black military uniforms, carrying an alien type of gun that I had never seen. They wore black ski caps and heavily padded vests and pants; all in all it was a weird ensemble. I don't think they realized that Dad knew that they were there and walked down the sidewalk cautiously. If Dad or I even breathed wrong, they'd be all over us.

"You see those guns?" Dad whispered in a whisper that a normal human could never match.

I nodded in the darkness.

"They shoot you, it's worse than death."

"What are they?"

"Tasers."

"Yeah?" I asked, not sure as to what he meant because I had never heard that word before.

"You get shot with a taser by those men, they'll take you back to the place where they came from."

"Where's that?"

"Manticore."