It's funny— when we stand up, Vera and I wince simultaneously. I've almost forgotten the very much life-threatening injuries we've both sustained. At our panicked expressions, Kei jumps into action.

"Vera, lie down," she orders, hands on the younger girl's shoulders. Vera scowls but obliges, sinking to the floor. She lies on her back, angry eyes trained on the ceiling. Kei kneels next to her as she did to me just hours before and lifts Vera's shirt slightly. Midriff exposed, Vera rolls her eyes as Kei examines the bullet wound.

I peer over the healer's shoulder and swallow down a gasp. Where there used to be a fiery hole oozing with blood, only a reddened patch remains.  It's threaded through with stitches, which I suppose came from Kei's mysterious satchel.

"Woah, Kei." I don't even have to pretend to be impressed. "How did you do that?"

She turns so I can only see half of her face. She's blushing— a lot. "It was just a stray bullet, and it only hit her on the side. Anyone could have fixed it, really." She gently pulls the hem of Vera's black tunic down, covering the injury.

Vera scoffs, using her hands to push herself into a sitting position. "Don't humble yourself, Kimura. Even I'll admit it was impressive."

I can't help but show my amusement at that. I wiggle my eyebrows at Vera. "Ooh, so we're on a last-name-basis now? Look who's finally coming out of her shell."

Her face flushes bright red. She snatches the flaps of her jacket, shrugging it over her shoulders more tightly. "We leaving or what?"

***

After a brief examination from Kei, it was determined that I won't be in need of further medical attention, either. Turns out the worst issue I have is dehydration, along with severe exhaustion. But those won't stop me from getting inside this forsaken City.

I don't know what I expected when I stepped out of the van. Maybe I thought the air quality would be better, or that I'd be able to smell homemade cupcakes from all the way out here. But neither of these things come to pass, and it's frankly very disappointing. As Vera, Kei, Ana, and I stand before the massive walls of the Central Highway, though, it's hard to dismiss the absolute chaos surrounding us.

Police officers swarm the area, pushing their way through the mass of angry Skins with their modern weapons. Gunshots ring across the platform occasionally, and this only further aggravates the mob. Outstretched arms reach for each other as families and groups of friends fight to stay together amidst the frenzy of desperation.

The four of us are quickly swept up into the jostling crowd. I whip back and forth, struggling to keep all three of my companions in my sight. Vera and Kei are gripping each other behind me, eyes frantic. Even Vera's jaw is set as she shoulders the inconsiderate fools around her. I glance down to see Ana at my right, her infantile blue eyes and white blonde hair stark against the grim scenery around her.

I'm beginning to suffocate, slowly. I've never seen myself as short, but the sheer magnitude of this crowd is so breathtaking I feel like a child trying to navigate a battlefield. It doesn't take long for me to realize that's exactly what I am.

More gunshots. More shouts. An older man a few feet ahead of me is pushed to the ground. A scarring image flashes before me: a wrinkled face plastered with horror, disappearing beneath a stampede of feet.

Ana's hand slips into mine. I look down again, pierced by the wobbling of her lip. Tears glisten on her reddened cheeks, and I'm suddenly overcome with the urge to pick her up and carry her from here.

So I do.

I reach down and scoop up her small form just as a rather large woman topples over where Ana had been. The woman screeches, arms flying to cover her face, as several maniacs clamber over her form. She suffers the weight of body after body, blow to the abdomen after blow to the face, until all that remains of her complexion is unrecognizable red. Ana clutches the back of my shirt, which is already soaked with tears and mucus. She buries her face in my shoulder, digging her nose into the crook of my neck.

"Vera! Kei!" My voice is already raw with emotion and sorrow, because although I trust my instinct, I trust my common sense more. And it's telling me we won't make it out of this alive. We shouldn't have come here. It was a mistake.

"Salem?" Even over the harrowed screams of the crowd, I hear Vera's voice from somewhere behind me. I steal a glance backward and nearly double over in relief that both she and Kei are still standing. Time seems to be passing so slowly, yet so rapidly at the same time. Every moment is the difference between life and death. Every moment is eternity when you're fighting for the right to live.

These people will do whatever it takes to get inside the walls of the Inner City. If cruelty is what it takes to survive, then so be it.

"Find me inside!" I shout, hoping the girls can hear me. Although I dare not close my eyes, I send a silent prayer that the shotgun I left them with before we embarked is still in their possession, and that either of them is able to use it. Reaching into my waistband, I unsheathe the infamous dagger from its spot on my thigh. I shift my weight so as to make sure Ana isn't in danger, and dive into the crowd.

It takes a moment for my fellow Skins to notice a lethal weapon among them, but when they do, the chaos multiples tenfold. The difference now, though, is people are more determined to get away from me than they are to cross the threshold of the Central Highway.

This, I think, is a fascinating response. Hundreds of people are willing to put their lives on the line for the slimmest chance of reaching the Capital, even if it means succumbing to blatant inhumanity. But the moment an inefficient melee weapon is drawn, everyone scatters. The mindlessness our "government" has instilled upon us is tremendously pathetic.

I charge forward, seizing the opportunity that presents itself when a slight gap opens in the crowd. With each step, the stone gates of the Central Highway loom closer. I focus on that horrible threshold, that manmade embodiment of the difference between safety and wilderness, life and absolute hell. Ana begins sobbing against my skin, and it only fills me with more rage that a child, a seven year-old child, should be forced to endure these conditions. It's not right.

A girl who appears to be around my age stumbles forward to my left. Her shadowy eyes land on mine before flicking to the knife in my hand. Her pupils dilate and she lunges at me, arms outstretched. I pivot and lock my right arm around Ana more firmly. Swinging with my left, I let the tip of the knife dance across my attacker's brow. Blood gushes from the wound, running through the grooves of her eyebrows and trickling into her lacerated eye. The girl's scream is unbearable.

Even as she clutches her face, fury emanating from her entire body, I see myself in her. Ambition. Pride. Independence. It almost hurts me, physically, to see all of these things drain from her expression as defeat settles in.

It almost hurts, so I push her to the ground before my feelings get the better of me. I can only hope she lives to have learned her lesson.

I hoist Ana further up my hip and clutch the back of her head, hoping the embrace is at least somewhat comforting. My eyes find the opening in the massive wall before us. It's so close. We're so close.

An elbow is shoved into my gut. Bile shoots up my throat, but I swallow it down and push the person away.

One hundred feet.

I trip on someone's ankle. It's red and blue.

Seventy-five feet.

I wobble to my feet, leaning against the weight of Ana, whose breathing is fast and shallow. Rocks and gravel cling to my bloodied knees. Walk now. Feel later.

Fifty feet.

Someone tries to put their grimy hands on Ana. Soon they're clutching their throat, blood pouring between their fingers and from their mouth.

Twenty-five feet.

I'm struggling to breathe again. My limbs ache horribly, and Ana's weight on my hip makes me feel like my entire right half is going to slide off.

Ten feet.

Nine.

Eight.

Seven.

Six.

"SALEM!"

Just as I am swept past the threshold that separates the Central Highway from the Outer City, my home, my eyes find Kei's. They're wide and full of terror as she and Vera disappear beneath a mass of angry tyrants. The two of them are at least two hundred feet away; I can't go back for them.

And even if I did, it might be too late.

I force myself to postpone my feelings even longer and turn. I face the huge corridor that leads to the Inner City. Ana is silent on my shoulder, but there's no time to check on her.

I run. I run like my life depends on it.

Because it does.