My arms pumped at my sides as my feet pounded against the dull concrete of the rooftop. The backpack on my back, filled with stolen food, thumped rhythmically with every step, marking time.

I heard a whoop to my right and glanced over to see my best friend, Nik, almost running faster than I was. "Try to keep up," he called over to me, grinning.

I returned the grin, laughter bubbling in my chest as I lowered my head and willed myself to go faster.

We reached the roof's edge. Without slowing, I launched myself off of the building, my body easily accommodating the jolt it received when my feet hit the next rooftop.

A couple of buildings away, I saw a bonfire blazing. Running as quickly as we were, it took Nik and me a matter of seconds to reach the flames.

I slowed to a walk as I approached Rooftop, still smiling so widely that my cheeks hurt.

The sizeable group of teenagers cheered at our approach. Several of them hefted wonderfully familiar bottles in greeting.

I gave a cry of delight at the sight of the alcohol, not breaking stride as I slung off my backpack and sat on one of the improvised chairs - an overturned crate. Someone passed me an open beer as Nik seated himself next to me. I sipped the drink gratefully, closing my eyes as I savored the burning liquid.

Someone snuggled against my leg and, resting my elbows on my spread knees, I glanced down to see Charlie grinning up at me.

"Hey, Char," I greeted my little brother, reaching down to ruffle his hair. As always, the light brown strands were soft and tousled.

"Didja bring anything for me?" he asked, glancing at the backpack resting next to me.

I frowned. "No, sorry."

Charlie hugged my leg, radiating pure, child wholesomeness. "That's okay."

Setting my beer down, I gathered the seven-year-old into my lap. "What did I do to deserve you?" I murmured, staring into the flames. Rather than answer, Charlie tucked his head under my chin and sucked on the collar of his frayed T-shirt.

Nik struck up a conversation with Charlie as I picked up my drink and began sipping it again. I nudged the former as I saw Sarah, his girlfriend, approaching us.

"Hey," Nik greeted her, grinning.

"Hey," she replied, returning his smile. "Hi, Claire, Charlie."

Charlie and I both lifted a hand in greeting.

"How'd the mission go?" Sarah asked Nik.

"Surprisingly well, actually," he replied, launching into the details of our latest raid. Slowly, I became aware of another conversation spreading around the circle of teens.

"No, man, it's real," one slightly drunk boy was assuring his sober (and highly skeptical) friend. "My cousin's boy? He got out."

"Through a lottery?"

"Not a lottery, man. The lottery. The Life Lottery."

"You're full of it." The sober boy scoffed and took a swig of his nearly-full beer.

"What are you two talking about?" I asked, interest piqued.

The sober boy groaned. "Don't get him started."

"The Life Lottery," the drunk boy slurred grandly. "There's this dude everyone just calls the Gambler, and he runs this lottery deal, right? If you get in contact with the secretary, she enters you. Then, if you get your name drawn, you get a free ticket out of Horizon."

My brow furrowed. "What? How?"

"Only the winners can know."

"And you said something about a secretary?" I asked.

"There's this chick - she's how you get entered. Contact her, convince her to enter you, bam."

My heart rate was increasing excitedly. "So how do I contact her?"

The boy shrugged. "Hell if I know."

Many others were listening in now. "How do you know about it?" one girl interjected suspiciously.

"Like I said, my cousin's friend got out," the drunk boy explained. "He didn't tell nobody nothing, just left a note explaining the Lottery in case my cousin wanted out. Lucky bastard." He shook his head and finished off his beer with a definitive swig.

As several other teenagers began sharing their own opinions on the matter, I nudged Nik. "Watch Charlie," I commanded, standing and starting to walk away from the campfire.

"Where are you going?" he called after me.

"Gonna go talk to Mouse," I replied.

There was no guarantee that I count enter the Life Lottery. If anyone knew how to contact that secretary, though, it was Mouse.

*

Mouse was our resident tech expert. She was a master hacker, the sort of girl who, as a kid, broke into government websites for fun. She was rather plain-looking, but what she lacked in looks, she more than made up for in intelligence.

Mouse resided in a nearby apartment building. Because of a falsified gas leakage claim, she had the entire building to herself. Since she mostly worked for the kids from Rooftop and valued safety, however, she chose to live out of the building's top floor.

I climbed down a short ladder leading from the roof to a fire escape platform. This platform was located in front of the window that led into what Mouse referred to as her "parlor."

This parlor was a bedroom, plain, undecorated, and littered with security cameras. She could watch live feed of the room on one of her many computer monitors. In fact, she had the entire floor rigged out with digital security. It was a necessity to stay safe in her line of work, after all.

I wriggled through the unlocked window and sat on the bed, eyeing a potted plant that I knew concealed a camera. "Hey, Mouse," I greeted it.

It was a matter of seconds before the door cracked open and Mouse's cautious face peeked in. "Are you being followed?" she asked in a theatrical whisper, fully serious.

"No," I replied, mirroring her whisper as a grin flicked over my lips. Mouse rolled her eyes at my teasing and gestured for me to follow her.

"What's up?" she asked as we exited her parlor.

"Have you heard of something called the Life Lottery?" I replied as casually as possible. Mouse was a haggler by nature, so if she thought somebody wanted something, she would pin a price on it faster than they could blink. If she assumed they just wanted information, however, the price drastically decreased or vanished entirely.

Today was not my lucky day, it seemed. Mouse squinted at me as we entered her computer room. "Lemme guess. You want me to get you entered?"

I shrugged in a last-ditch attempt to save my casual act. "That and...you know, rig it so that Charlie and I are guaranteed to win."

Mouse plopped down in a chair in front of her largest computer monitor, resting her feet on the desk. "Let me get this straight. You want me to hack into a highly secretive, illegal system and ensure that not only you but also your little brother win what is supposed to be a randomized selection - all while its criminal overlord, generally regarded as as mastermind in the underground community, is kept in the dark."

I winced. "Well, when you put it like that..."

"What's in it for me?" Mouse asked, raising her eyebrows expectantly.

I plastered on my best smile. "Everlasting friendship?"

Silence.

I sighed. "What do you want?"

"Food," Mouse answered promptly. "I'm running low."

I frowned. Food was hard to come by and I had just gone on a raiding mission. The thought of turning around and going on another one wasn't appealing. "How much food?"

Mouse thought for a moment. "A week's worth."

"Wha - a week's worth?"

"That's my bargain. Take it or leave it."

I bit my lip. It would be stupidly difficult - was it a fair price to pay for escaping this hellhole of a city?

Hoping I wouldn't regret it, I nodded slowly, my mind made up. "Fine."

Mouse clapped her hands together, instantly businesslike. "Great." She turned to her computers and began tapping away on her keyboard. Soon, we were surrounded by projections of numbers, letters, and incoherent phrases. I couldn't make heads or tails of any of it.

Mouse's fingers flew over the keys. Every once in a while, she would turn around, her gaze perusing the projections until, with a victorious exclamation, she found the word or number sequence she needed. I stood silently, wondering how long this would take her. Part of me was also intently focusing on the dilemma of holding up my end of the bargain - where the hell would I steal a week's worth of food from?

Finally, Mouse grabbed a scrap of paper from a drawer in her desk, fished around for a pen, and scribbled down some information.

"Where'd you get paper?" I asked curiously. "And why are you using it?"

"It was a gift from someone. I like it," Mouse replied distractedly, turning around and handing me the slip.

I quickly scanned the information. "What is this?"

"The best I could do," Mouse snapped.

"This is just a comm address!"

"A comm address that is going to link you directly to the Gambler's secretary."

"This wasn't the deal!"

"I'm not messing with the Gambler directly. Not risking that," Mouse replied dismissively.

I sighed, glancing back down at the paper. "I don't even have a comm. How am I supposed to use this?"

"There's an apartment complex a few buildings away," Mouse told me quietly, actually seeming slightly guilty. "I'll give you the address of a policeman I've hacked a couple times if you still get me the food."

I groaned. "I thought you were my friend."

Mouse smiled ruefully, staring at the ground. "I can't really afford to have friends."

I stared at her for a moment. "Fine," I finally spat out. "I'll get you the food."

Mouse smiled again. This time, it was genuine. "Thank you," she told me. "I truly hope it works out, Claire. I do."

Still burning with irritation, I nodded curtly, turned on my heel, and strode from the computer room.