One minute I held the key

Next the walls were closed on me

And I discovered that my castles stand

Upon pillars of salt and pillars of sand

I hear Jerusalem bells are ringing

Roman Cavalry choirs are singing

Be my mirror, my sword and shield

My missionaries in a foreign field

For some reason I can't explain

Once you go there was never

Never an honest word

And that was when I ruled the world

Coldplay- Viva La Vida

I ran. I ran until I thought my lungs would burst. My breathing was heavy,and my legs tired.

"Can't... go on." I wheezed, collapsing onto my knees.

"Come on Kyle, we're almost there." Stan said.

"Gah! Get inside before they get us- ngh." Tweek spazzed.

I pulled myself up, and walked to our hide out.

Our hide out was in the basement of a boarded up abandoned building. We figured it was the safest place for us to hide.

I dragged myself down the basement stairs. The others were sitting on the dirty brown couch, watching the news on the old TV.

"Hey, they're back!" Butters exclaimed when we walked in.

"Did you get the food?" Kenny asked eagerly.

"I'm fine, thanks." I replied bitterly. I rubbed the side of my head, feeling something warm. I drew my hand back and saw there was blood on my fingers.

"Well you seem to have gotten yourself quite a cut, Kyle." Pip chimed in. "Here, let me help."

Pip led me over to the couch, and carefully placed a bandage on the long cut, wrapping the bandage around my head three times.

Pip's a really good medic. That's mainly why we let him stick around.

"What did you get?" Clyde asked me.

"I don't know." I responded honestly. I really didn't know. I just grabbed the bag I saw first.

Stan reached in, and pulled out the contents of the bag. A few blocks of cheese, a long loaf of bread, a jar of pickles, and eight bottles of water.

"This should last a week and a half." Kenny concluded.

That's good. We need food in order to survive in this cruel world.

"Hey fella look!" Butters piped up from the couch.

We all crowded into the small living room and sat on the couch. The news was on.

In other news, more citizens have had their numbers called and have been shipped off to serve a five year work sentence at the castle.

Numbers. That word gives me the shivers.

The wealthy people of this fucked up society are all on record and have an assigned number. When they announce their number, that person is sent to the castle (where our tyrant leaders live), and serve five years of labor or be put into permanent slave labor. Also, a certain number is called at the request of one of the tyrants.

That's the good thing about being in a gang. No one knows you so you're not on record and don't have a number. So we basically are scot free when it comes to that.

Another group was taken three hours later to serve permanent slave labor. Several soldiers are currently on the lookout for a gang in the upper west side that have recently been identified. They are apparently next on the list.

I swallowed a lump in my throat. We lived on the upper west side. I just pray to God that it isn't us.

The soldiers are patrolling the streets right now. If they don't find this gang withing a week, the search will be disbanded until further information is obtained. As far as they are concerned, there is no evidence of their whereabouts as of now.

I let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding. At least they didn't know where we are.

"Dude..." Stan breathed. "They could be after us."

"It's unlikely, but possible." Clyde agreed.

My heart began racing. Oh this was too much.

Then I heard something.

Yelling and gunshots from up on the street.

We all jumped.

"What the hell was that?" Stan shouted.

More yelling and even more gunshots.

"Maybe we should stay down here." Butters suggested.

Loud bangs came from upstairs.

"Oh dear. That's not good." Pip said.

"Oh we are so fucked." Clyde noted.

The bangs moved out of the hous and onto the streets.

Then it just... stopped.

There was dead silence for a full minute.

"Guys, I think, I'm gonna see what's happening." I finally spoke.

"No way, you could get yourself killed!" Kenny cried.

"I'll be okay." I tried to assure them, grabbing my pistol. "Just wait here, I'll scream if anything goes wrong."

I moved and threw open the door. I creeped up the stairs, and into the first floor. I walked to the door, and opened it slowly.

I hope I'm not making a horrible mistake.

Red was the first thing I saw.

Blood was splattered all over the ground. Seven dead soldiers lay in a heap, their shotguns scattered around, and bullet holes in their heads.

My heart began racing again. Relax Kyle.

Breath in, breathe out.

I heard footsteps, and saw about ten teenagers running away from the crime scene.

Two of which were Scott and Trent.

I should have known they would kill these soldiers when they got caught doing who know what.

I walked towards one of the soldiers. He was young, blonde and good looking. Tall too. I spotted a few papers in his brown sack he was carrying.

I bent down, and picked up the partially soaked papers.

Hey... These are the numbers of the gang they were looking for!

I wonder what poor guys are getting enslaved.

I glanced down at the papers. Basic information. Age, height, weight, etc. Nothing too major.

I looked at the poor sap's name, and my blood ran cold.

KYLE BROFLOVSKI

NUMBER 660

A/N: DUN DUN DUN! Okay now things are gonna get crazy. They're the gang the others are hunting for, and Kyle just found out. What do you think is gonna happen next?

Adios!

-Liv