"A nation of sheep will beget a government of wolves."
― Edward R. Murrow

-

"Shh! I said to keep it down!" Oliver's tone is harsh as he whisper-yells. I squint my eyes partially in disdain and partially to see in the thick darkness.

"But-" I start to argue when a loud 'click' catches my attention as the door opens up to a lower room. I've been staying in Oliver's living room for the past few days. And while I tired quickly of the same surroundings, the cramped and rugged house was oddly comforting.

More comforting than prison, for sure.

The old sofa made a nice resting place if you overlooked the rusted springs and robust cushions. Nevertheless, it had been safe. I knew the Sentries steered away from the Outskirts, so I bargained with Oliver for my own benefit: we stay put for a few days to take off some heat, and I'd help him find his brother. It was a tall order, but I had no other choice. Perhaps it was selfish to endanger his family, but I didn't want to risk endangering mine. I could only pray that I would be able to return home soon.

Even so, I had grown quite fond of his mother's smiling face and his father's quirky jokes. His father had shocked me at first, with his pale skin, straw-colored hair, and pale blue eyes, but soon I could see that they were all really close. Closer than my family, with whom I had thought to have a strong steady relationship.

But even with the welcoming atmosphere, I could sense the looming defeat. I could only assume it was a response to Zeke's disappearance. He had not turned up while we waited for me to heal, which only confirmed our suspicions: they had taken him.

The questions regarding our situation had poked at me through the night—along with a few springs—keeping me wide awake. My only relief from my thoughts has been Oliver's offbeat antics. He has already shown me so many things that I've never so much as thought about.

Oliver had told me about his upbringing, his schooling, and his family history. His entire family had been in the military. Judging by their living quarters I know why. The Military supplies volunteers—and those who have been drafted—with the necessary food, shelter, and Vitanox to survive. The drug's price is rising each day, so it was no surprise that the military is also expanding rapidly. Oliver admits that those unable to pay the tax, which would save them from being drafted, welcome the free necessities the military provides. He doesn't meet my eyes as he tells me this, and I don't press for information.

"Lucy should be coming home soon. As soon as she's back I'm heading off to join," Oliver says. Although the words are lighthearted, I've sensed the heavy tension in the room whenever Lucy is mentioned. The way Oliver's mom dances around bringing her up.

"Who's Lucy? Why are you joining?" I had questioned.

Oliver had given me a wide grin as he spoke, "Lucy is my older sister. She's a real badass. Just like mom. She decided since mom and dad met in the armed forces, she would try her shot at love there," He rolled his eyes, "A silly dream if you ask me. Especially since things didn't even work out between them. I just want to mess with some weapons. Be on top for once..."

"Ambrosia?" I blink to see Oliver's baby blues staring at me. Only now do I realize my mind had been floating off into space.

I regain my composure and with an overly sarcastic eye roll I reply, "Ollie?"

He stops to glare at me, "Don't call me that."

"Alright, how about Olive?" I tease the boy. He shakes his head fervently.

"Definitely not. Not Ollie. Not Olive. Just Oliver."

I shrug as I follow him down the flight of creaky stairs, "Fine. 'O' it is then."

I take his silence as approval as we make our way into the humid space. The cold concrete walls provide little comfort in the dark basement. Oliver reaches out and runs his hand along the wall. I can't see the switch, but a dirty lightbulb flicks on, dimly illuminating the room.

There are a few sofas facing a black box mounted on the wall, and not much else. A few framed photographs sit crookedly on a small table, and I recognize Oliver and Zeke with an older girl that must be their sister, Lucy.

I carefully pick up the photo and study the three of them, unable to stop the small smile lifting my lips at the huge grins they all wear. Oliver looks a lot younger, his hair shorter, and Zeke is only a toddler.

Lucy has the same blue eyes as Oliver and Zeke, but her skin is much lighter. She's also wearing clothes in a strange gray-and-green mottled pattern I've never seen before.

"We took that picture the day she left," Oliver says quietly, coming up behind me. I set the frame down carefully, my small smile fading.

"How long ago?" I have to ask.

Oliver is quiet for a while. Long enough for my heart to start contracting.

"Almost five years," he finally says, sounding as though the three words were tearing his soul apart. I look back at him, but his blue eyes are trained on the floor. "Nobody can contact family members in the service. And her term ended today, so she should be traveling back. Either she arrives at our doorstep in two days, or a notice does."

My heart all but shrank at the crack in his voice near the end, but he seems to be in a sort of trance.

"She could've died the day she left for all we know," he continues as if talking to himself. "And we'll never get to see her again."

The last sentence forces all of the air out of his lungs, and a single tear streaks down his cheeks. He breathes in, suppressing his pain and it only makes me want to hurt whoever did this to him... to his entire family.

"Oliver." My heated tone surprises me a bit, but I've already made up my mind. "Let's go find Zeke. We'll start our search tomorrow. I'm tired of hiding."

My voice is shaking from the fear of the unknown. What if we're caught? My heart aches with the thought of my family. I can see the national paper now, 'Runaway girl found dead, causes unknown'.

Over the past few days, I have found myself questioning our government. But this is how New York has always been, right? Surely if something was unjust the government would have been repaired by now.

So, why do I still have these doubts?

Shock, followed by a cheeky grin lights up Oliver's face. He looks like a kid being told they can have the newest relay upgrade.

"Come on," Oliver says, taking my hand and guiding me to the black box, "I want you to see this." The boy fiddles with some wires behind the mysterious rectangle, motioning for me to sit. I do as I'm told and cross my legs in front of me. Oliver squats next to the object and taps it's face. Instantly, colors and lights flashed on the screen.

It was moving.

I inched away from the colorful and foreign technology. The people on the box moved in an odd fashion and smiled joyfully. Their hips shake and their arms are outstretched as they skip around my vision. Oliver seems to notice my apprehension towards the box and places a hand on my shoulder, "Don't be scared! It's Awesome! Watch all the colors. It's a moving picture!" My face is still skeptical as I eye the tiny people. My whole body tenses as I wait for the small characters to jump out and attack me. Oliver watches me sideways before scooting closer to the terrifying image.

"You haven't even seen the best part." Oliver taps the screen once more— provoking me to move away again, only this time, I find myself calming down. The most beautiful sounds start to emit from the once horrific box. My eyes grow wide with the sounds. Before I realize what's happening, tears drip from my eyes. The characters are moving in this strange manner, but it's perfectly in sync with the noise. I have never heard anything like it.

"What-" my words get caught in my throat, but not only because of awe. Something brushed against my leg.

I look down and freeze.

"What. Is that?" I hiss, trying not to scream.

"Oh," Oliver says. "I don't know."

Slowly, I back away from the- the thing. It has four legs, thick black fur, and two triangular-looking shapes on top of its head. It takes me a second to realize those are its ears. It takes me a few more to recognize that it is staring up at me with big, saucer-shaped green eyes.

Oliver reaches down and picks the thing up, cradling it like it's harmless. "She was here when we moved in. I wanted to show you, but I wasn't sure. These things were banned years ago."

"If they were banned," I say slowly, "There was probably a good reason."

Even so, those big green eyes lure me in. The fluffball opens her mouth and lets out the tiniest of sounds, and I almost smile.

"Nah," Oliver shrugs. "She's quite harmless, actually."

Unable to stop myself, I reach out tentatively and stroke the fur right in between her ears.

"Unless you touch her stomach," Oliver adds.

"What happens if I touch her stomach?"

He grins. "Why don't you find out?"

Before I have the chance to try anything, we hear Anne yell our names from upstairs.