"Change is the law of life. And those who look only to the past or present are certain to miss the future."

- John F. Kennedy

It was now 3am, and the 5 of them were gathered in one of the rooms the university had provided for the night, Jake couldn't remember whose. It didn't matter, his was somewhere down the hall anyway. He was slumped in the one chair the room had, while Josh and Paul sat on the single bed, Josh perched on the end while Paul fell back and lay fighting to stay awake. Max and Mike were standing bent over the small table in the corner, tobacco and green spilling out onto it as they tried to roll a joint for the first time in years.

"Shit, we used to do this all the time," grumbled Max, the Rizla in his hands crumpled practically beyond use. He'd got the weed from a friend just for this occasion, he'd told them.

"Give it here," said Josh, standing up and walking over.

Smoothing out the paper against the counter, he managed to make a serviceable smoke from the mess scattered over the desk.

"Watch it, the roach isn't in tight," he said.

He went to pass the joint to Max, who waved his hand in refusal.

"You rescued it, you get the first smoke," Max said, he and Mike now using the table for support.

Josh lit it, and the group sat for a while taking in the nostalgic smell.

"So," said Jake, when Josh passed it on, "what are you doing these days, Josh? You still remember how to roll, I see."

"I'm a broker, believe it or not," replied Josh, sitting back down on the bed and looking up through bloodshot eyes.

"A broker!?" said Max in surprise, smoke coming out of his mouth as he spoke and making him splutter and cough.

Mike slapped him on the back, taking the joint carefully from his outstretched fingers and replacing it with a bottle of beer.

"Yeah. Crazy, right? I just kind of fell into the job."

"Real-estate?" asked Mike, sending a plume up towards the ceiling. This was followed by a coughing fit of his own.

"Nah, insurance. Cars. Nothing special, but it pays the bills. What about you guys?"

"Well, I'm a proud father of two bouncing baby boys," said Max, recovered.

The others ascended from their alcohol-driven stupors.

"You've got kids?" exclaimed Paul in surprise, pushing himself up on his elbows.

"How come we didn't know?" added Josh.

"You don't check the internet enough. They're been all over my page for weeks guys, and we're all friends."

"Facebook? Shit, I never look at that any more. Makes me feel old..." Josh said, as Mike passed to Paul.

"Well, I knew. Sent a congratulations message and everything."

This was Mike. Max tilted his bottle in his direction in acknowledgement.

"Yep, a father. Other than that, I work in an office down in Harrow doing data management. Exciting, right? Cheers."

They drank to Max's fatherhood.

"And you, Paul?" asked Jake.

"You know me. Still trying to get my art out there. Had a few exhibitions, and I work whatever part-time jobs I can when money's tight."

"A few? Hell, that's great man. Congratulations. Always knew you had talent."

"Thanks, man. It's tough, but worth it. I'm doing what I love and all that."

Paul exhaled a final cloud as he spoke, and waved the joint unsteadily towards Jake, who leaned forward to take it.

"And you, Mike?" Jake took a deep draw after he spoke.

"Me? Well, I'm working in the research division of a medical company down near King's Cross. Nothing special either. Checking drug efficiency and whatever."

"What about you, Jake?" asked Max, leaning forward.

Jake could feel the atmosphere of the room change, even through his stoned drunkenness.

He knew he'd always been the one the group could never get a handle on. He'd had a tough time of it at uni, nearly quitting in his first year and almost flunking his third. It was never a case of his lack of ability, but more due to the difficulty he had fitting in. He'd been lucky to find this group early on. They'd kept him on the (relatively) straight-and-narrow, and made sure he at least turned up to exams.

"Hmm, what do I say? Odd jobs, I guess. I move around a lot, doing manual labour. Don't look at me like that..." - he said at their disappointed expressions - "It's good work and it gets me out in the fresh air."

"Dammit Jake, you always had potential. Hate to see you wasting it," mumbled Paul, his head resting in his hands now.

"...said the starving artist. Look, don't worry about me, I get by."

Jake passed the joint back to Mike and leaned back in his chair. The group went quiet, each floating in their own cloud of marijuana and alcohol, so when the lights suddenly cut out it took a few seconds before anyone reacted.

"Shit guys, I can't see anything," came Mike's voice, somewhere from the vicinity of the orange glowing embers of the smoke.

The room lit up red as the emergency lights came on.

"Power cut?" asked Max, standing unsteadily from the table.

"Must be," said Josh.

"You think I need to put the bud out?"

"Nah, wait a..."

Josh's reply was cut off by Jake shushing the group.

"What? What's up? You hear something?"

Jake waved Josh quiet.

From the hallway outside came the sounds of people opening their doors, calling out to each other as to whether this was a fire alarm or similar.

Paul was beginning to speak when the emergency lights went out as well, plunging them into darkness, though now their eyes had adjusted to low light the basic outlines of things were visible.

"Seriously guys, I'm too stoned for this. We need to leave, you think, or..?"

Max's words were cut off by a loud thump from outside, a heavy object hitting the wall, and a brief scream. A heavy repetitive thumping rattled in their ears, followed by the crunch of breaking wood, at the same time as surprised exclamations from those outside stopped suddenly.

The thumping came closer.

"They're kicking in the doors, get back," said Jake.

Confused sounds came from the rest of the group as Jake stood up, shaking his head to try to clear it, and stepped over to the side of the door. The thumping was still several doors away, so he leaned over to the small sink in the corner of the room and poured cold water onto his hands, splashing his face with it.

"Shit, I am not in a good state for this right now."

"What the fuck is going on?" hissed Paul, from where the other four cowered in the corner.

"Shut up," ordered Jake, voice calm. "Shut up, and keep still."

The group was silent for a few seconds as the thumping and stifled shrieks came closer, then the silence was broken by uncontrolled giggling from Max.

"Max. Shut the fuck up, alright?" whispered Josh, a tremble in his voice.

"Come'n guys, this is hilarious! What are we doing? Nothing's coming for us..."

But Max's voice faltered at the sound of a male shout of rage and pain, ending abruptly in a loud thud.

"Ok, ok, I'll shut up. Shutting up..."

The thumping was right next door now, everyone having tried to lock themselves in their rooms from whatever was happening outside. The sound of the door smashing back on its hinges vibrated through the wall and into Jake's shoulder where he leaned against it, something silver shining in his right hand.

A quiet scream was followed by the sound of someone running rapidly out of the room and away down the corridor, and then the door into the group’s room began shaking under repeated blows.

Jake stood there, hand up to his side, silver glinting, for several blows. His head nodded slightly with each kick the door received, muttering under his breath, until he quickly reached forward and grabbed the door handle, swinging the door open just before it was smashed again by whoever was kicking it.

Instead of striking the door the unknown attacker found themselves falling inwards, leg still extended with the momentum of their kick. Jake grabbed the leg before it reached the ground and, without pausing, stabbed repeatedly and rapidly into it. The owner of the leg screamed in pain as the small blade sliced in again and again, throwing himself backwards but only succeeding in losing traction with his other foot. He fell to his back on the floor as Jake maintained his grip on the leg, slicing viciously. There was a loud gunshot; Jake took one heavy step back but kept his grip on the leg.

A yell and shots from further down the hall followed by running footsteps prompted Jake to let go. The attacker, whoever he was, had passed out from the pain, and in his hands was a pistol. In a split second the pistol was in Jake's hands and sending lead flying wildly down the corridor, Jake hiding within the room to the side of the doorframe and holding only his left hand out into the hallway.

Despite his lack of aim, a cry of pain told him he had made a lucky shot. Leaning around the door frame, he saw a man rolling on the floor clutching his stomach.

"Gut shot. Damn," he said under his breath.

He slid the clip out from the pistol and checked the bullets within.

"We need to get out of here guys. Now. I don't know if there are anymore, so follow me."

He pushed the clip back into the pistol and leaned out of the doorway, looking down both ends of the corridor.

"Let's go," he said, stepping out.

There was no reply.

Jake turned to look at his four friends, none of whom had moved an inch from where they huddled at the back of the room. Their dumbfounded expressions and open mouths told him all he needed to know.

"Look, you're in shock, I get it. It's crazy, I know, but there's no time for this right now. These guy are going from room to room looking for something, so we need to get out of here. That means… You. Follow. Me."

He saw them look at each other, then towards his general direction.

"Jake..? Jake? We can't see shit in this. Saw the flashes from... is that a gun? What the hell is going on here?"

Jake ground his teeth and rolled his eyes in exasperation at himself when he realised that of course they couldn't see. He stepped over to where they were and grabbed Josh by the arm, placing his hand on Paul's shoulder, then Paul's hand on Mike's shoulder, then Mike's on Max's.

"There," he said, grabbing Max's forearm, "now, don't let go and keep up."

"Is that a... shit, there's a guy here. Fuck, there's blood everywhere!"

Paul's voice rose in fear. Turning to see what was going on, Jake realised Paul had stumbled over the body of the unconscious, possibly dead, man outside the door and fallen to his hands and knees.

Stalking over and grabbing him by his collar, he dragged him up and then continued.

"Look, there's no time for that now. Just shut up and follow, ok? I want to get out of here."

"How the hell can you see in this?" hissed Max.

"I eat a lot of carrots. I said shut up."

They walked down the corridor slowly, Jake keeping an eye out for any more attackers. They were nearly to the stairwell when the emergency lights came back on.

Realising how crouched they had unconsciously stood in the dark, the group straightened up and coughed nervously. The 4 looked at each other, and then at Jake, who was peering around the corner and down the stairs with the pistol held high.

"Holy shit Jacob," said Max, eyes still bloodshot and swaying gently, "What did you do?"

The others followed his gaze back to where they had come from, where two bodies lay, thick blood oozing out and staining the floor black in the crimson light.