F R E A S H A

I perch on top of the shipping yard wall, watching the shirtless boy and the firecracker girl argue about something. I can't hear what they're saying, though. The girl suddenly whirls around runs off, disappearing into a red shipping container. She doesn't exit.

The boy puts a hand on top of his head and paces back and forth, talking to himself.

I sigh and hop off the fence, back to where my dog, Lizzie, and my backpack are waiting.
Lizzie yaps at me as I untie her leash, showing me her teeth in a mock smile.
"Liz, hush," I scold. "Do you want them to know we're here?"
Apparently, Lizzie does want them to know, because she keeps barking.
"Lizzie! Shut up! We'll be in big trouble if they find out I've been sneaking into their camp for food. Food you eat, too!"
I tug her leash, and she falls silent.
"Good girl," I whisper. "Now, come on. We're going home."

I've taken two steps towards my camp when a girl drops out the trees, brushing her messy brown hair out of her yellow eyes.

"So you're the one who's been stealing my peanut butter!" she says. "I knew I wasn't eating it that fast."

I take a step back, palms up, trying to come up with an excuse.
"I- I never took anything! I mean- why would I? Right? That totally wasn't me!"

The girl straightens her green tank top and smirks.
"You literally just said that you'd been stealing from us. 'We'll be in big trouble if they find out I've been sneaking into their camp for food,' I think is what you said. So save yourself the trouble and admit it. Trust me, it'll be easier for you if you just roll with this."

I stand there for a minute, confused. "Roll with wha--"
A hard object smashes into my temple, knocking me sideways. I stumble for a second and catch my balance, leaning on a nearby tree.

The girl draws back her arm and punches me again, this time making me slump unconscious to the ground.

I wake up in a dark room, with my wrists tied together.
My head is throbbing where the girl punched me, and with a frustrated scowl, I realize what she meant by 'roll with this.'

"Roll with the punches. Haha. Very funny," I say out loud.

Something thumps above my head, and a few seconds later a large metal door opens, letting in light. I can now see that I'm in some sort of large metal container, lying on a cot. There's nothing else in the room.

"I heard you talking, so I knew you were awake," someone says.

My head whips around, eyes locating the speaker. They're a thin, tall brunette. The belt around her waist has a few small bags hanging off it, and she's wearing a pink shirt under a denim jacket. Her boots are mismatched, one being red and the other black.

She waves, leaning over onto one foot. "Hi. I'm Peregrine. Like the falcon."

"Where am I? Where's my dog?"

The girl blows a lock of hair away from her eyes and shrugs.
"I dunno. Re-- Guns took her."

"Guns? Who - or what - is that?"

Peregrine sits crosslegged on the floor and takes a coin out of her pocket, rolling it across her knuckles repeatedly. "Our leader. She doesn't want to admit that she's in charge, though. Keeps saying that we're a Democracy, but that's totally not true.
So what's your name?"

I hesitate, then remember the way the other girl knocked me out and decide to just cooperate for now.

"Freasha."

She giggles. "That's even stranger that Peregrine."

I scowl and stand up from the low cot. "Is Guns the girl who knocked me out?"
I do not want Lizzie in that person's care.

"Oh, no. No, no, no. That wasn't Guns. That was my sister, Owl. She's kind of grumpy all the time.
No, Guns took your little dog. I dunno where they are now."

"Any chance you're gonna let me out of here?"

She shrugs. "I dunno."

"I mean, are you going to keep me locked in here, in this... Shipping container, or are you going to let me walk around?"

Her hair falls back into her eyes. "I could go get Knives..." She muses.

"WHAT?!" I shout, stepping back in alarm. "You need knives to let me out of here?!"

Peregrine stands up and makes a point of rubbing her ear. "Nevermind grumpy. I'm going to leave you here. That was way to loud. I bet the zombies heard that, which means I have to go kill them now."

She twirls on one foot and closes the door, leaving me in total darkness.

"Well, shoot," I grumble. "There goes that escape plan."

Suddenly, something outside makes a tremendous crash, and I hear the girl, Peregrine, scream shrilly.

"Peregrine!" I shout, stumbling forward blindly until I hit the door. "Peregrine?!"
As desperate as I may be to escape, the death of any human is more important.

"Peregrine!"

R E B E C C A

I run around the corner so fast that my feet skid in the dust, forcing me to grab the blue shipping container to stay upright. Hawk is close behind me, eyes wide.

We both stop after rounding the corner, staring in horror at the scene in front of us.

One of the stacked shipping containers has fallen, bursting the door open and releasing a load of zombies.
Peregrine is backed against a nearby container that's painted a dark, blood red, which is terrifyingly ironic.

"Peregrine!" Hawk shouts, running forward. I grab his arms and pull him back.
"There's too many, Hawk! You can't do it that way!"

He turns to me, his face a pattern if conflicting emotions.
"Then how, Rebecca?! How?!"

I glace back at Peregrine. She only has a few minutes.
"We... We need to think, for a minute, Hawk..."

A loud, piercing whistle sounds, making me clap a hand over my ear.
Dylan, the blond boy, runs into view, pulling two fingers out of his mouth.
The zombies look his direction, and some of them divert, but most of them are still focused on Peregrine.

The boy charges right into the horde, ignoring the scratches he gets from groping hands.

Hawk and I watch in horrified fascination until the boy reaches Peregrine.
He skids to a stop in front of her, jamming his wrist into the mouth of the closest zombie and slamming it into the two.

"Run, girl!" He shouts. "I can't hold them off long!"

Peregrine scrambles to her feet and bolts, running straight into mine and Hawk's arms.

D Y L A N

I let the Eaters bite me in various places, clenching my teeth against the pain.
"Back off, you crazy, cannibalistic freaks!" I grunt, shoving them away and whipping out my pocket knife.
The burns on my body are screaming in pain, almost making me cry out as I use that arm to stab the Eaters.

"Dylan, get out of there!" Someone screams. I use my foot to propel an Eater away from me and scoff quietly. "What do you think I'm trying to do? Have tea with them?"

One of the Eaters close to me sinks it's teeth into my injured shoulder, tearing out a hunk of bandage and flesh.
I cry out, sinking to my knees and clutching my shoulder.

Someone round-kicks the attacker, slamming its head into the shipping container, killing it.

They make quick work of the remaining Eaters, helping me to my feet.
"Oh, gosh... This is not good..." They groan.

I look up into the face of the short-haired girl who spoke to Darius when we first arrived here. Guns, they called her.

Then everything goes black.