I didn't know how long I'd been walking. Too long, probably. My legs had grown stronger through the long days spent doing nothing other than walking, jogging, or running. I had honestly lost track of the time I'd spent walking and moving on after a couple of weeks. It had been a lot longer than that by now. Several months, or so I thought. The few times that I went into town to get supplies, I didn't bother checking the date. It wasn't worth it to me. Not only did it seem slightly suspicious that I wouldn't know what it was, but I didn't care to know.

My only thought was continuing onward and outward. Many nights I hadn't slept for more than two or three hours. Not out of fear, but out of a desire to keep moving. The next day I was sure to regret it, but that didn't stop from doing it. Every now and then, I would pull out the photo my father had given me. I used it as inspiration on particularly trying days. It gave me the motivation that I needed to keep going.

Some days I created a story to go along with it. I imagined that the man in the picture was the mysterious K that I searched for, and the girl was his beautiful bride. Other days I wondered if the man was my grandfather holding on to my grandmother, both of whom I'd never met because they'd died before I was born. I tried to search for traits that I had in the pictures, and concluded that my eyes looked sort of like the girls, both in color and shape, but my smile looked a bit more like the mans.

Either way, I reminded myself, it wasn't likely that I knew or was related to either of them. There were certainly some similarities, but not enough that I could be sure of any relation. And the theory that it was K and his wife was shoddy at best. The style of the picture was a bit old, and for some reason, I pictured K younger than that. Not my age, but not that old either. If it was him in this picture, he'd have to be at least as old as my grandfather.

These imaginations gave me joy, though, and as unrealistic as they were, I continued thinking about the possibilities. New ones seemed to come every day, and filled all of my spare time. I had a lot of it nowadays, as I passed nearly every waking moment walking. With all of the time that I'd travelled, there were many different scenarios that my mind had entertained.

Some of the ideas were fleeting. Others sojourned in my mind for hours upon hours, building and gathering details. I even went so far as to dream about a select few. It almost became an obsession for me, helping me to pass hours at a time.

I shook my head out of the trance that held me. I thought up these theories to try and keep myself sane, but sometimes I thought that only they added to my insanity. At least I knew that I could still think for myself, and maintain clarity within my mental state.

I glanced around myself. I was laying on one of the small paths that jutted out from the rest of COMPOUND. I'd yet to see anyone else residing down one of these stretches, nor anyone who even seemed to notice them. It confused me, but I tried to not think about it, and instead allowed myself to prosper in the good fortune I had.

The first week I'd been on the run, I'd avoided these small paths like the plague, even though I passed by them nearly every day. Now, I sought them out. I didn't sleep anywhere other than down one of them. I was absolutely certain that utilizing these outcroppings had saved my life. That first week had been terrifying. Other than the first time I'd ever entered one, I firmly told myself to never return to the trails. It seemed as though everywhere I went, politicians followed me. It probably wasn't true, but on the eighth night when I finally allowed myself to return, the feeling deserted me. It didn't return unless I spent my night in the open instead of down a path.

I was getting closer to the border. It filled me with anxiety every time I thought about it, how near I was. What I'd been working so hard for was just at my fingertips. Some days it felt as though I could reach out and grab hold of it. I knew it wasn't true, though. My biggest obstacle was still on its way: actually getting out.

At times it would come to me just how over my head I was. I didn't know what I was doing, or what I was getting myself into. Maybe I'd end up as one of the slickers that got dragged back into the lecture hall, and some fierce-eyed politician would sentence me to my death, and everyone would talk about how I got what I deserved. My thoughts darkened each day regarding the COMPOUND. I thought that I'd had it bad, living among the politicians. I'd never been more wrong in my life.

Having walked as far as I had, I'd reached the outer-edges of the COMPOUND, where the lowest class people lived. The conditions they lived with were wretched, and it took all of my strength to not let the despair I saw etched in nearly every face become my own. It was hard, walking through the people who had lost so much and dealt with so much. I doubted I could live life like they did, and it made me worry about the strength of the politicians.

In our upper-class bliss, we lived our lives without a care of the poverty and horror that plagued the lives of those in classes below ours. The only things that we were told was that they lived with slightly less luxury than we did, and spent a bit more time working to provide for our needs. I don't think I ever truly bought what we were told about those of lower-classes, but I never even dreamed of the reality that they faced. The fact that politicians had such an intense level of control over what we knew made me doubt everything I'd ever been told.

It also made me curious as to what the other classes were told. Did they believe that everyone else had it about the same as they did? Were they force-fed lies about how the world worked too, and made to believe that things were better than they actually were? I wondered about it a lot.

Those two things -- the picture and the conditions of the classes -- occupied my mind. They left no room for anything else. I suppose that was a good thing, seeing how they were the two things that drove me the most to press for change. One told me of the awful reality that many faced, and the other gave me hope for a different, brighter tomorrow.

I pulled the photo out of my backpack, and stared down at it fondly. I had the details memorized, etched into my mind from the multitude of times that I'd studied it. I held it in my hands for a few moments before sliding it back into my pack. These days, holding it was enough. I'd memorized every facet of the picture, I no longer needed to look at it when I pulled it out to remind me of my purpose.

I then stood, pulling on my packs. I'd kept my original bags, only changing out a few of the items inside of them. Some of my clothes had to be replaced, and I planned on replacing them all again before I left. Life outside of the COMPOUND would be rougher than the one I led inside, and it's not like I was short on money. My father had given me ample resource to survive, enough to actually live a relatively comfortable existence.

I wore a pair of jeans I'd bought recently, no holes or tears, but a couple of small stains. My shirt was also new, a light t-shirt to prevent me from sweating too much and ruining it. It seemed as though the further I travelled, the hotter it got. On the plus side, the further I travelled, the more resistant to the sweltering climate I became. It was interesting to see the changes that took place in my body. I grew stronger, and pushed my physical limits to places that I never thought that they would be able to stretch into. My arms grew larger, and the gentle layer of skin surrounding my stomach gradually disappeared, leaving behind firm and defined muscles.

It was a rather strange transition to watch, but an inevitable one I suppose. With how much walking and exercising I did, if I didn't get in better shape, I would have been shocked. Not only that, but it was important that I was physically fit, so that I could better help the rebels. My body needed to be adjusted to living in a manner that was more difficult in order for me to actually succeed in the rebel camps. If I wasn't, they'd think I was just some slicker trying to have fun. Maybe being in shape would help them realize that I was entirely serious about aiding their cause.

With my two packs resting firmly on my shoulders, I started to head down the path. I didn't even realize the danger ahead, and if I had, it would've been too late anyway. He knew I was there. He was waiting for me, armed and ready.

If there had even been a way to escape, I wouldn't have even been able to take it. The second I saw the guard, my mind went entirely blank. I couldn't think, couldn't react, all of my energy was focused on this guard in front of me. I was doomed, for sure. The guard stood lithely, leaping to his feet, clutching his gun easily in his grip. He was obviously better trained than I was, and he had preparation on his side, while I was forced to deal with the shock.

I took a couple of stumbling steps backwards, my eyes flickering from side to side uneasily. I couldn't formulate a plan, and I knew there was no way out other than where the guard stood. "Well... you've got me," I said, resigned. I would be a lot better off conserving my strength and trying to fight later when I knew I'd have a way out rather than trying to run now with nowhere to go.

"Smart move," the guard barked, gesturing to the trees on either side of him. Two more guards appeared, flanking him. I was suddenly very glad I hadn't tried to run. I would've been captured for sure, and the punishment would have been worse had I run. The first guard took off his helmet, revealing a shockingly young face with a wide, beaming grin. "Hello."

So it was official. The guards of Patella were insane... I didn't know how else they could enjoy capturing and harming people. The guard stuck out a hand to me, and I flinched, thinking he intended to strike me. He laughed lightly. "Calm down kid, we're not going to hurt you!"

I swallowed hard. First, he wasn't much older than I was. Who was he to call me "kid"? Second, was he really insane enough to think that I wouldn't be hurt or killed by the politicians when I was taken back to my house? At the very best, I would be imprisoned.

"You're scaring him," a quiet voice whispered. One of the other guards. The voice was stunningly gentle, and he stretched out a hand to me. "It's okay. We're not actually guards. We're rebels. We've been tracking you since you left. We want to help you get out."

I laughed. The politicians were a sneaky bunch. Posing as rebels posing as guards. It was a sneaky, underhanded trick to perform, but one that I found myself almost falling for. The wide smile of the first guard slipped slightly, confused. The other two guards still wore their helmets, so I couldn't read their facial expressions, but I assumed they were just as confused.

"Are you serious? You expect me to believe that?" I laughed again, running a hand through my hair. Was I going crazy? Maybe being alone for so long had gotten to me. I obviously wasn't thinking straight. This situation, which should have been incredibly intense, now came across as hilarious. The guards exchanged glances, then returned their gazes back to me.

"Yes," the gentle one said. I turned to him, almost sensing the concern that emanated from him. He reached up a hand to pull off his helmet, then stopped and placed his two pointer fingers and pinky fingers together, entwining the rest, and rested his two pointer fingers underneath the tip of his chin. My breath caught slightly, and I looked around to make sure no one had seen. He'd just flashed the sign of the rebellion, something that could get you killed if you were seen doing it. I gave him a small nod of understanding.

"Should we just take him out with us? The others are going to want to meet him, and we could meet up with him on the way back to headquarters. It's not like he'll slow us down much at all. You've seen him, he walks and runs like a madman," the gentle one commented.

The guards all had a laugh at that, nodding. A slightly pleased feeling bubbled up in the pit of my stomach, but I pushed it down before it could grow any. Simply because these guards acknowledged that I had been able to maintain a good steady pace didn't mean that they liked me, or even that they would not hurt me. I couldn't let myself get a big head or it could lead to me making a costly mistake. At this point, I couldn't afford a single mistake, let alone a large one.

The front guard eyed me carefully, his green eyes raking up and down my form. "He could make a phenomenal recruit, but we still don't know if he's legit or not. It's the only thing keeping me from taking him out there right now." I could feel the eyes of all the guards resting on me, as though they were waiting for me to say something. I wasn't sure what they wanted me to do, so I stood there awkwardly.

My level of discomfort grew exponentially as the silence stretched on through the minutes. At times, I felt inclined to speak, if only to break the muteness of the guards. At others, I felt as though this was some kind of test. They wanted to know how strong I was, and if I would be able to withstand the pressure placed on me. I didn't know if either theory was true. I simply remained silent, hoping for the best.

"I think he seems alright," the third guard quipped after a long, almost excruciating pause. "At least he knows how to hold his tongue, which is more than can be said for most slickers." The guards all had a quiet laugh about that, nodding and smiling as if they were sharing a fond memory. Perhaps they were.

I shifted slightly from one foot to the other, not sure what to do. I could feel all of the guards eyeing me, and it made my unease grow. It felt as though we were waiting for something to happen, though I wasn't sure what it was.

Suddenly, all of the guards straightened, and stood at attention. Their relaxed poses vanished, and their arms rose in a salute. There was rustling from behind me, and I turned to see what all the fuss was about. There was another guard, seemingly ordinary, but I guessed he was the leader of the three men. He commanded their attention and respect in a way none of the other guards did.

He slipped passed me easily, going to whisper in the ear of the first guard. The first guard stepped forward. "Right, I'm Tavion. That's Lexter, Raith, and Achlys. I sure hope you can remember that."

I certainly hoped that I could, too. I quickly forced myself to study them, committing their faces to memory as quickly as possible. Tavion was fairly average looking, with dark brown hair that was cropped close to his head and dark eyes. His dark skin seemed to blend into his suit, making it hard to tell where he ended and it began. His eyes were constantly in motion, flickering back and forth in order to take everything in. He held himself confidently, and rightly so. If I had to guess, I would say that he was probably twenty-five, which made him all the more intimidating since I was so young comparatively.

Then there was Raith. Raith stood about an inch shorter than Tavion, and was far less intimidating. He had light-tan hair which hung into his face. His eyes were a pale grey-blue, and his mouth and eyes were surrounded by happy-looking creases. Everything about him screamed trustworthy and reliable, which is what scared me the most about him. He was probably about nineteen years old.

Lexter was next, holding an unassuming but prepared stance. He looked like the youngest of the group, about a year younger than my own eighteen years if I had to hazard a guess. He seemed quite reserved, with dark hair and brown eyes. His hands constantly fiddled with whatever was in their grasp, which was currently a gun trained on my lower legs. His quietness made him deadly in that sort of brilliant and strategic way. I wondered at his name, quite obviously one from the inner-circles of the COMPOUND, far more so than the others, but pushed that thought from my mind to dwell on later.

Achlys was dressed in a guard suit, revealing nothing about himself. His stance was the most ready of the others, seeming as though he could bolt in a second if it meant saving our lives. He did not pay much attention to me or the others, instead choosing to constantly survey our surroundings for signs of potential danger. Living a life with the rebels put fear into your heart, I supposed.

Tavion continued speaking, "We were supposed to use these trails to track down a couple slickers, so far all we've got is you. But, boss here says we're going to head back anyway. Apparently there's been some stuff stirring around in the forest, and we're supposed to go back and meet up with Iszak." The guard, Tavion, extended his hand. Achlys, the boss, shook his head and inclined it down the trail a ways.

Tavion nodded. "We're going to go down the back way, understood. These trails make a direct path to the COMPOUND wall, and they're all unguarded holes. It's the easiest way out of here. You follow close behind me, and stay quiet. Achlys seems to be in something of a mood, probably because of whatever's going on with Iszak. Either way, we'll find out soon enough. Now, get a move on!" I was given a light pat on the shoulder, and placed firmly in my spot in line.

I still hadn't said a word. I think I was in shock. I hadn't been given much time to sort this all out in my head, and I suppose my brain wasn't used to thinking this quickly. Generally speaking, I had more time to adjust my mindset. With all of the time I'd spent on my own, I wasn't used to much company either. Having so many people around almost made me feel claustrophobic. It seemed as though things would start to close in around me at any moment.

Raith, the gentle guard, placed a hand on my shoulder. "Are you alright? You seem a bit... dazed..." He had a very calming face and voice, and it eased my fears instantaneously. His smile was a bit hesitant, but sincere. I trusted him completely, and I'd only met him a few moments before.

I heard a laugh off to one side, and looked up to find Lexter, the third guard. "He's got that effect on everyone, kid. He makes a great medic, because you know you're safe with him. And he's great for getting out of sticky situations. No one could mistrust this face." He reached up a hand to teasingly pull on Raith's cheeks. They acted like brothers, as if they'd known each other for years.

Lexter glanced over at me again. "He's saved my life more than a couple times. He's one of the best men you'll ever meet, kid."

I nodded to show my understanding. Already I felt more at ease among these people than I had around any of the politicians. They were easy-going, friendly, honest, sincere, and down to earth. Everything that I'd been told to believe they weren't.

The feeling of disgust boiled up inside of me again. I hated the politicians, and what they'd done to not only me, but everyone. No one was safe from their lies, and not a single person could learn the truth on their own without constantly facing the threat of death. The politicians controlled us all like puppets. Sure, we could cut the strings, but it would mean becoming a lifeless figure on the ground.