Antonio Higgins sighed and kept his eyes on the clock as his professor droned on about whatever it was they were learning that day. He watched as the minute hand crept closer and closer to the four, when a bell would ring to signal the end of the day. His foot tapped against the smooth marble floor and his fingers beat a rhythm against the leg of his trousers.

And then it happened.

The soft chime echoed throughout the building, bouncing off of the pristine white walls. None of the teenagers dared to move an inch as they waited for their professor to finish her lecture. As they all knew: the bell doesn't dismiss you, your teacher does.

"Thank you for your cooperation today, students. You are officially dismissed."

With that the students began to rise and neatly filed out of the instruction room. They were all eager to be done for the day, but made sure to leave slowly so as not to make the professor feel like they hadn't appreciated her lesson.

Antonio stuffed a few papers into his folder, trying his best to hide the pages from his professor. He could feel her gaze on him as he packed up and silently begged her not to say anything.

"Mr. Higgins, please stay after class. I need to speak with you."

Antonio deflated and his gaze dropped to his desk as he waited for her next command. He knew none of the other kids were looking back at him, that would be nosy and in New Manhattan people just weren't nosy, but he couldn't help but feel self-conscious.

"You may approach my desk."

Antonio shuffled forward with his folders and school-issued instructional panel tucked under his arm.

"Place your folders on my desk. And stand up straight."

Antonio reluctantly did so, straightening his shoulders and staring blankly ahead. He tried to contain a wince as she pulled out a sheet covered in doodles.

His professor sighed as she looked over the sheet and sent him a disappointed glance. "How are you meant to learn anything if you spend your day scribbling away on paper? Where will this get you in life, Mr. Higgins?"

Antonio shrugged and the professor cleared her throat. "I don't know, ma'am," he amended.

"I would hate to have to report this to The Council."

Antonio's eyes widened and he shook his head frantically. "Please don't! I'll do anything!"

Antonio wouldn't mind if she told anyone else, but if she told the The Council he'd be punished severely. The Council was in charge of keeping order in New Manhattan and they were not known for being merciful.

"What other choice do I have? If you do not pay attention in class, how are you ever going to be a productive and useful citizen?"

"Please," Antonio whispered. He didn't trust his voice to remain unbroken if he spoke any louder.

"Begging is not admirable, Mr. Higgins," his professor lectured. "But I have made the decision to leave this unreported. I am aware of your situation, and because of your good behavior and dedication to change I will give you another chance to prove yourself."

His situation. Everyone knew about that--everyone always found out when you received a strike.

Antonio couldn't remember how he'd gotten any of his. All he knew was that one day at twelve years old he'd woken up with the black line staining the skin of his wrist. Twelve years old and he'd already gotten one of his allotted five strikes.

Since then he'd received two more.

He couldn't risk getting another one before adulthood.

"Thank you, Professor," he mumbled.

The woman gave a sharp nod. "You are dismissed."

Antonio didn't need to be told twice. He smoothly scooped up all of his belongings and headed for the door as quickly as he could. If he hurried he could still make it....

He pushed the doors open just in time to see a familiar redhead hop onto a bike and start pedaling down the street. Antonio slipped the straps of his backpack over his shoulders and followed on his own government issued bicycle.

He kept distance between himself and the other boy, trying to avoid suspicion. The well-kept streets of New Manhattan blurred past him as he pedaled harder. The redhead had always been a fast biker and Antonio didn't want to fall too far behind.

Almost as if feeling Antonio's stare, the other boy glanced over his shoulder, then gave a nearly imperceptible nod to his right.

Antonio got the message and slowed down, then crossed the street. They'd done this before; splitting up so no one would know they were headed for the same place. It was part of living in a city like New Manhattan.

Antonio stuck close to the sidewalk as he passed the neatly arranged flower beds and orderly storefronts. A few people milled about, though most were still at work, and Antonio gave them smiles and waves as he passed by. It was polite, after all.

He'd traveled about four blocks on that street when he deemed it safe to turn around and head back to the meeting spot. He sped up and allowed a small smile when the park came into view. It'd only be another mile or so.

He followed the biking path through the park, past a playground, and over a bridge. He could see the dark, gnarled trees of the forest growing closer. He could just barely make out a figure riding a dark blue bike disappear through the trees. He smiled, knowing that his friend had made it.

It felt like ages before he was at the tree line. He cast a quick glance around and, sure that there weren't any witnesses, pushed through the thorny bushes and into the patch of thick trees. He didn't make it far before he had to get off his bike and start walking; the path was too rough and there were too many obstacles, but Antonio didn't care. He did this every Friday; he was used to it.

The woods were silent, almost unsettlingly so, and he walked quickly. It felt as though someone was watching him, but Antonio knew that couldn't be true because the citizens of New Manhattan weren't allowed to be in the woods without a pass until the weekend.

Finally the shelter came into sight and Antonio let out a breath of relief. It wasn't much, just a small wooden landing and frame covered in old canvas perched twenty feet up a tree, but it was the only place the boys could be without the prying eyes of The Council.

Antonio let his bike fall to the ground near his feet and dropped his backpack next to it. He strategically avoided the five other bikes and backpacks that were strewn about and carefully started to climb, using the old rope for extra support. His fingers knew all of the knobs and branches of the tree and his feet knew exactly where to step on his ascent.

"Who's there?" A voice hissed as he neared the top.

"Who do you think?" Antonio hissed and glared at the entry hole that'd been shut with the wood slat designed specifically to shut the treehouse and keep strangers out.

"That's not an answer!" The voice sang back.

Antonio tried giving the slat a shove to move it out of the way, but something heavy must've been placed on top of it because it wouldn't budge. "It's Racetrack," he sighed.

Something scraped against the floor and the slat was lifted enough for two dark eyes to peek out. Seeing that it was in fact Racetrack, the slat was moved aside completely and Race was hurriedly ushered inside.

"You're late today, Racer," a short, dark haired boy observed.

"I know, Romeo," Race gave a grateful smile to Specs who'd helped pull him up onto the platform. "I had to stay after."

The treehouse, already quiet, went silent apart from a few muffled gasps. Specs's eyes widened and Jojo choked on the protein pack he'd been eating.

"For what? What happened?" Albert, his red haired friend, bit his lip and tried to get a glimpse of Race's inner wrist.

Race caught the action and turned his wrist to face the rest of his friends, revealing the three black marks against his tanned skin. "Don't worry; I didn't get into any trouble."

Albert visibly relaxed. "Good, 'cause that's the last thing you need right now."

Jojo too seemed relieved and he looked up at Race from where he was sitting cross legged on the floor. "You only have a few more strikes before they-"

"I know," Race cut in. He didn't need to be reminded about how few chances he had left before The Council.... well... did whatever it did when you reached your limit.

No one was exactly sure what happened because no one had ever met anyone with five strikes before. And even if they had, the person wouldn't have been able to tell them anything. No one ever seemed to remember what happened before or after you received a strike.

That was the whole point of the boys meeting each other every week. All of them had at least one strike which was very unusual for people their age. They'd bonded over their societal exclusion and curiosity over what had happened after The Council came to get them and punish them for whatever crime they'd committed. This led to some interesting revelations.

"Speaking of strikes-" Romeo interrupted. "I had another one last night."

"Strike?" Elmer asked.

"No," Romeo rolled his eyes. "A dream. I think I remember something!"

"Well, out with it then!" Albert folded his arms across his chest impatiently.

"The Council showed up at my house, you know, in the vans like they always do. Then they told me to go with them, and I did."

"Then what?" Elmer breathed.

"I think they interrogated me. I remember lots of light and someone asking questions. Then my mind got fuzzy and my arm burned," Romeo's voice was almost a whisper and his eyes were distant as he ran his fingers over the two bars on his wrist.

"We already knew that much," Albert scoffed. "You broke a law, they picked you up, and the wiped your brain. We had that figured out ages ago."

"I wasn't finished." Romeo was firm and completely serious when he met Albert's gaze.

Albert seemed to realize the gravity of the situation and gave a slow nod. "Okay, so what happened then?"

"When they took me, they didn't take me from my house."

"What are you talking about?" Specs squinted and his brows knitted together. "You said they showed up at your house."

"They did," Romeo paused as though unsure of continuing his sentence. "But it wasn't where I live now. It was somewhere else. I don't even think it was New Manhattan."

Jojo shook his head. "That's some dream."

"It wasn't a dream, Jo. It was real. I can remember it. I can feel it." Romeo's eyes were closed and he stood completely still. "I remember things that I shouldn't; people that I shouldn't. I've lived here all of my life, haven't I?"

"Of course you have," Elmer agreed. "We did Adolescent Education together. You and I had the same professor for three years!"

"Did we?" Romeo asked. "Because the more I think about it, the less sure I am."

Race tried to think back as far as he could. He remembered graduating Adolescent Education and joking around with Romeo in the back of the line while the headmaster spoke. He remembered celebrating Romeo's ninth birthday at the ice cream parlor on Mackey Street and learning to ride bikes together.

But as he focused on the memories something strange started to happen. The images in his mind started to shimmer, then slowly they grew foggy and distant.

"What's going on?" Race's eyes shot open and his heart was pounding. "What did you do?"

"You noticed it too, didn't you?" Romeo whispered.

"Noticed what?" Specs asked. "What are you two going on about?"

"Start moving forward. Start thinking of things we did closer to now."

Race did so, imagining their first day of Citizen Preparatory School. He and Romeo had shared a class; they'd sat next to each other! But again, the longer he thought about it the more the memory faded.

"The memories don't feel real until last year." Romeo's face was white and his hands shook a bit; an uncommon thing for him.

Jojo had been following carefully along with the process too, and drew in a sharp gasp. "He's right! He's right!"

"And the more I think about it, the more I remember other people. People I shouldn't know. People I don't know!"

"Like who?" Elmer looked scared. He kept glancing around them, searching for eavesdroppers even though there were no windows in the tarp and it was unlikely that anyone had traveled this far out into the woods.

"There's this boy," Romeo said slowly. "I think his name was Benjamin, but I don't think I called him that. We were partners in our last year of Adolescent Education."

"That can't be true. You and I were partners," Elmer said.

"Were we? Think about it. None of my memories are solid until last year... right after I got my second strike."

Albert met Romeo's eyes and frowned. "Are you trying to tell me that when you get a strike they wipe you completely and then what? Move you?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying," Romeo replied. "Maybe not after the first time. But definitely after the second."

"Then Race should remember it, yeah? 'Cause he's got three. You don't know what he's talking about, do you, Race?"

Race was quiet under Albert's gaze.

"Well?"

Race fidgeted and carefully thought out his next words. "I've been having dreams too. There's this guy who I keep seeing. I don't know what I called him, but I knew him real well. He--I think he was from New Brooklyn. I remember being there."

"New Brooklyn?" Specs whistled. "You couldn't have been there. No one's been allowed there for years! It must've been a dream."

Albert seemed comforted by this and nodded along. Elmer too seemed pleased with this conclusion and he dropped down so he was sitting next to Jojo.

"No!" Race frantically shook his head. "No, I was little. It was before the law. We used to play by the bridge..." Race trailed off and thought hard on his dreams. Unlike the memories of Romeo, these did not quiver and break. Instead, they became stronger, clearer, and the thoughts of Romeo and the others faded even more.

"This is crazy," Elmer murmured, shaking his head. "Please tell me this is a joke."

"I'm scared," Jojo admitted. He clasped his hands together and tried to meet Race's eye. "What do we do?"

"I don't know."

"What can we do? No one will believe us, especially if they don't have any strikes. It sounds crazy!" Albert lowered his voice. "And if it's true and The Council is doing this, what will they do to us?"

"So what do you suggest we do?" Specs asked. "Pretend we don't know and go about our lives? How can we know this and not act?"

"I don't know! But we can't-"

There was a buzzing coming from outside of the treehouse. As it got closer it turned into a high-pitched whirring and the boys immediately froze.

"Please tell me I'm not hearing what I think I'm hearing," Jojo gasped.

"The Council," Race whispered and his stomach dropped. How did they know the boys were out here? How could they have found out?

"We need to go!" Albert crouched down and lifted the slat from the opening to the treehouse. "Come on!"

Race couldn't move. He could do nothing but watch as Elmer dropped through the hole and began sliding down the rope to the ground. Specs and Jojo were right behind him and as soon as they hit the ground they hopped on their bikes.

Romeo was next, and he wasn't even halfway down before deciding that climbing would take to long. Race didn't even flinch when he heard Romeo let out a hiss of pain after the twelve foot drop.

"Come on, Race!" Albert grabbed his forearm and dragged him towards the hole in the floor. "We need to go!"

This seemed to awaken something in him and he began to slide down the rope. Albert was right above him and he could tell that the boy was scared.

The second that Race's feet hit the ground he was running. He didn't bother grabbing his bike, he just did what he did best.

But it seemed he and Albert were too late.

The Tranquility Department Officers were surrounding them on their motorbikes and they'd already grabbed the four other boys.

"What do we do?" Albert was shaking.

"There's nothing we can do, Al."

"There's no point in running," one of the Officers said. The sunlight glinted off of the black visor on his helmet as he moved towards the boys, twigs crackling with every step. "Stay where you are and obey all instructions."

The boys knew that the man was right, so they stayed still. Fighting back would only result in harm to themselves. Two Officers grabbed Albert and Race and held their hands behind their backs as the first Officer, he must've been the Captain, read the Criminal Detention and Apprehension speech.

"We are here because you have all broken Act Four of Article One which states that all meetings of rebellion or that contain anti-Council sentiments are prohibited. The result is that you-"

Race couldn't believe what he was hearing. He'd been waiting to hear about how they were in the forest on a day they weren't allowed to be there. That would've been bad, but they were just accused of treason and that was much worse.

Before, they'd all planned to obey, but now running seemed like a good idea. It didn't get worse than being accused of betraying The Council.

"You will be transported back to The Council where you will be questioned and punished for your-"

It seemed like Albert was thinking the same thing as Race and he chose that moment to act. He wrenched his arms out of the Officer's grip and threw an elbow into the man's chest.

Everything was thrown into chaos and the boys tried to use that as a distraction to escape, but there were too many men. Romeo was immediately backhanded and fell to the ground. His friends were being pushed and shoved and an Officer hit Albert in the back of the head with a Suppression Stick as Race was thrown onto the forest floor.

His hands were laid out in front of him and he felt the elbow of an Officer pushing firmly into his back with the man's other hand pressing down on his head so his face was shoved into the soil. He could feel the twigs and leaves scratching against his face, could taste the dirt and blood in his mouth.

"Officers, ready your Tranquility Guns," the Captain said loudly.

Race knew what was coming next and he tensed as the Officer holding him removed his hand from the back of his head. He heard a click as the guns were removed from their holsters and Race took one last moment to look at the inside of his wrist.

His last thoughts before the darkness were of the fourth inky line that would be there when he woke up.

***

Jack Kelly was distracted.

That wasn't uncommon for him when it came to school, but usually it was because he was bored. But not today. Today it was because he was interested; too interested.

The seat in front of him was empty and he could've sworn there was someone there the day before. He'd taken notice of the boy because he'd seen the boy doodling and Jack liked to doodle too. Plus, the boy had three strikes compared to Jack's four, so he'd definitely taken notice of the kid.

But he wasn't here today.

"Pay attention, Kelly," the boy next to him said softly. "You can't get another strike."

Jack looked away from the open chair to face his partner. "What?"

"You can't get another strike; you need to listen to the professor."

"Oh," Jack nodded. "Of course."

The boy looked away from him and went back to copying down notes from the board, but Jack didn't take his gaze off of him. The boy was David Jacobs and Jack didn't know much about him except that he was really smart and had someone gotten a strike even though he never did anything wrong.

Jack never really talked to him, but David was observant and Jack figured it couldn't hurt to ask him. "Davey!"

The boy startled and looked over at him. "My name is David. And it's Jacobs to you."

Jack ignored him. "See the seat right in front of me?"

David nodded.

"Who sits there?"

"What?" David's face scrunched in confusion and he looked between the empty chair and Jack. "No one."

Jack rolled his eyes. "Well obviously not right now! But there's a kid who normally sits there; a blond with three out of five. Where is he?"

"Kelly, no one's been sitting there all year."

Jack shook his head. "That's not true. I remember him! He sat right there!" Jack motioned towards the desk again.

"I don't know what you're talking about," David insisted. "Now quiet down before the professor notices."

With that, David went back to taking notes and Jack went back to staring at the desk in hopes of remembering a name.

He thought hard; harder than he'd thought in a long time. Nothing came to him and he ran a hand through his dark hair and let out a frustrated sigh. His gaze moved over to the window, and then it hit him.

Antonio.

His head whipped back towards the empty desk. His name was Antonio. But where was he?

The chimes sounded and the students all got up to leave, but Jack remained, just staring at the place where Antonio should've been sitting.

"Are you alright?"

Jack looked up and was met with bright green eyes and a friendly smile. Something about the grin was familiar, but Jack figured it must've just been because the boy was in his class.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine."

"Are you sure? You looked worried."

"Really, its fine," Jack replied as he picked up his belongings.

"Okay," the boy nodded. "The name's Charlie, by the way. Just let me know if you need anything."

The boy turned to leave and Jack noticed that he walked with a limp. A limp. Charlie.

Jack knew this boy. He didn't know why, but he did, and something in him was telling him that he could trust Charlie.

"Hey, wait!" Jack stood up and rushed through the classroom door, catching Charlie halfway down the hall.

Charlie paused and looked over his shoulder, holding back a smile. "Did you change your mind already?"

"As a matter of fact, I did."

"What can I do for you?"

Jack, now walking in step with the shorter boy, bit his lip--an uncommon habit for the confident teen. "There's a boy in our class. Antonio. Do you know where he was today?"

Charlie appeared to think about it for a second, then shook his head. "I don't remember an Antonio."

Jack cursed quietly. "David said the same thing."

"Sorry," Charlie shrugged with a sympathetic smile. "I really wish I could help, but I just moved here. I don't really remember anyone yet."

"I understand. How do you like it here so far?"

Charlie started talking and Jack tried to pay attention, that was the polite thing to do, but he couldn't stop thinking about Antonio.

"Hey, are you okay? You zoned out again," Charlie laughed.

"What? Oh, yeah. Sorry," Jack winced. "I don't know what's wrong with me today."

"It's fine," Charlie waved off the apology.

Again, Jack felt a hint of recognition in at the boy's mannerisms.

He tried to discreetly study Charlie's face, but the boy seemed to notice. He nervously brushed strawberry blond bangs away from his face.

"Whatcha looking at, Jack?"

It seemed to unlock something in Jack's brain. Everything he thought he knew disappeared and a wave of memories washed over him. He did know Antonio--no, Race--and he knew exactly what must've happened to the boy. It was the same thing that happened last time.

And he knew Charlie.

"What are we gonna do, Jack?"

Jack shook his head silently. "I don't... I don't know, Crutch."

"Now that we know what we do... They're going to hurt us; aren't they, Jack?"

"They might," Jack admitted.

"They'll wipe us and separate us at the very least."

Jack hummed in agreement.

"Are we doing the right thing?"

This surprised Jack. All of the other boys had shown doubts at one point or another, but Crutchie had always been unwavering in his beliefs. He'd never asked if they were doing the right thing.

"Of course," Jack said with confidence. "We need to do this to protect everyone else. They need to know what The Council is doing."

"I know," Crutchie sighed. "I'm just scared of what they'll do if they catch us."

"Catch me, maybe. But never you. I'll never let them get you. I'll make sure you never get a strike. I'll keep you safe."

"But who's gonna keep you safe?"

"Don't worry about it," Jack said and lightly punched Crutchie's shoulder.

"But I do worry! I don't want to lose you. What if they take you?"

Jack paused, thinking hard about it. "That could happen. But do you remember what I told the rest of the boys?"

Crutchie shook his head.

"I said that even if they split us all up, we'll find our way back to each other again."

"Then they'll split us up again."

"Then we'll all start over. No matter how long it takes, we'll find each other."

"But Jack! If they wipe us and we forget each other, how will we find each other?"

Jack smiled. "That's easy, Crutch!" He pressed his index finger against Crutchie's forehead. "We don't need what's up here to find each other."

"We don't?"

"No!" Jack laughed and moved his finger so it was poking into the left side of Crutchie's chest, right above his heart. "We'll listen to these. They'll always lead us back to one another."

"Crutchie!" Jack gasped and threw his arms around the boy. "I found you! I told you I would!"

Crutchie tensed in his arms. "What are you talking about?"

Jack pulled away and grinned at his friend. "You're right. I guess you found me, but that doesn't matter! We're back together again. And Davey! He sits next to me! That's three! And Race is in our class too! Soon as we figure out where he went we'll have four and I'm sure he's found some of the other boys. Nothing can keep him and Jo apart, so I imagine he's got him... Probably Al too."

Crutchie squinted and slowly backed away. "What are you talking about?"

"What am I talking about? Only about how I haven't seen you in forever and how now everything's gonna be fine! Why are you acting so weird?"

Crutchie held his hands up as if to keep Jack away and his heart dropped. Not because Crutchie was backing away as though he were some criminal, but because he'd caught a glimpse of the boy's left arm. He was seeing something he swore he'd never allow himself to see.

A thick black bar marred the skin of Crutchie's wrist.

Jack rushed forward and grabbed Crutchie's arm so he could get a better look. "What happened, Crutch? How'd you get that?"

"I don't know, and I don't see how it's your business!" Crutchie pulled his arm away and tried to cover the dark mark.

"It's my business 'cause I promised I wouldn't ever let it happen!"

Crutchie shook his head. "No you didn't. I don't even know you."

Jack froze. "Is this a joke? Of course you know me, Crutch!"

"Why do you keep calling me that? I'm not 'Crutch', I'm Charlie! Are you making fun of my limp? That's really rude and if anyone else heard you say that they'd call The Council. You're lucky that I know you're on your last strike, else I would!"

"I'm sorry! You never minded before, but if you don't like it I'll stop!"

"Before? You keep saying that, but I didn't know you 'before'! I haven't even talked to you until today!"

It felt like a bad dream that Jack couldn't wake up from. Crutchie--no, Charlie--didn't seem to remember him. "But-but you called me Jack! You knew my name! I didn't introduce myself. You knew!"

Charlie blinked, taken aback by the comment. "I... I must've heard someone else say it."

"No! No one calls me Jack," Jack insisted. A bit of hope was starting to grow in him. If Charlie had remembered his name then he'd start remembering everything else soon too. He just needed a little help.

"Look, I don't know you. Leave me alone!" Crutchie turned and walked away as quickly as he could, and Jack let him go.

As the excitement of the moment wore off, sense had returned to Jack. He'd help Crutchie remember later. He only had minutes before The Council realized what he'd done. They'd have people after him soon, so he needed to get to safety, to Brooklyn. They were probably watching him right now.

"I'll find them," he said out loud, hoping that The Council was watching him. "I'll find them all and we can all remember together. Then we're coming for you."

***

A man sat in a throne-like chair behind a huge desk of polished wood. His fingers thrummed impatiently against its surface.

The door to his office clicked open and he scanned the man who was standing in the doorway. He looked scared.

"Wiesel, I'm busy.

"I know, Mr. Pulitzer, sir, but there's been an incident and-"

"Have you found her?" He interrupted the flustered man, hoping that this time she really was back.

"No, sir. We haven't found her."

His mood grew dark again. "Then why are you bothering me?"

"It's one of the citizens, sir. There's been a mistake and-"

"Spit it out!"

"It him, sir. Jack Kelly is awake."

***

Sorry that it's so long and totally not a chapter for one of the other stories I have up that I promised I'd work on 😬
Can't control your muse....

Hope you liked it anyway!

And yes, I'm working on my other stuff. I swear it will be updated.... eventually....

Signing off,
Anna