Nate hated the nerves he woke up to in the morning, hated the alarm, the darkness, the cold shower, the eerie and dark dread that felt like an impending bomb in his chest. He chucked a bruised apple into his drawstring bag, knowing he couldn't stomach breakfast.

Aurora patted down the stairs shortly, half-asleep, blinking blearily at him. Nate hadn’t quite explained his predicament to her yet. He wasn’t sure if he knew how. 

“Go back to bed.” 

Aurora mimed a series of hand gestures, pointing to Nate, then a building, then FFSCHH flames. Nate frowned. He hadn’t told her about that either. Though he wasn’t exactly surprised. Aurora was surprisingly well-aware. He guessed she worked out how to use the slow internet service on her phone.

“Early study session in the High School area,” Nate said. Aurora squinted pass the darkness to try and read Nate’s lips. “Go back to bed. I’ll message you later. Keep your phone on you.”

Aurora made a face that was something between a grimace and a dismissive pfftt and went back upstairs, her footsteps as light as a cat’s. He didn’t quite know what to make of that reaction. Nate was good at reading his sister, but she could be ambiguous when she wanted to be.

La Guida was a longer journey than Richmond, but an easier travel than he thought. The only problem was the border inspection. 

It was still dark when Nate got to the station. Cart100, platform 13. He’d barely been waiting for five minutes under the glow of the murky street lamp light when the cart came gliding down to meet him. The cart-operator opened the door for him, a big man with a broken pair of glasses and an under-bite, a chubby version of pop eye on beets. Nate stepped inside, about to sit down when the operator called him back with a dog whistle.

“RIC card.”

Nate stilled. “What?”

“The cart goes pass border inspection son, ya need to scan ya RIC card.”

“What card?”

“Regional Identity Card,” the operator said, like it was obvious. “Ya never ‘eard of it?”

“I’ve got an ID?” The same one his mother forged him back in the day. Luckily Nate had renewed it in time.

“'azzit got the code thingie?”

Nate slipped his ID from his pocket and scanned it along the red light thing that supermarkets had. It gave a beep. The operator looked at whatever was coming up on his miniature screen. Nate couldn’t see it, which was unnerving, considering the operator’s scowl. Then, finally, he jerked his head to get Nate going. “Go on then.” 

Cart100 was different. Nate figured the ones that crossed the border would have to be. It was larger than what he was used to, with cushions on the two rowed seats, little flip-down tables and larger windows. 

Nate perched himself near the back. He sent a quick text to Aurora telling her to check the doors and ventilation system, as usual. Aurora texted back immediately with a thumbs up emoticon. 

The North city was dark beneath them, with street lamps still illuminating the empty roads, dim in comparison to the glow of the vending machines.

Nate enjoyed the dawn. When it wasn’t quite so hot, the streets not so crowded, the world seemingly serene, a sponge to the darkness, the silence. The daytime was always so hazardous, so hectic, with things to be done, things to fix, waste to perish. Night was liberating. Night was off-mode.

Well, in the North it was.

The transition from North to South was not a gradual one. There was a large River that split Venoir into two regions. There are different names for it, from the Harper river--after the name of the first girl who’s drowned in it--River Styx, after the river of the underworld--or Nate’s personal favourite, Caterpillar River, after its shape and disturbing green colour that-lo and behold-resembled a caterpillar. Creativity at its finest. 

Nate hadn’t been to the South in nearly a decade, could barely remember what it was like. But the difference between the two regions were stark. Seeing it up close made Nate feel heavy. 

How to describe it? Imagine Venoir as a Lewis Carroll book. If the North was Alice sitting lazily in the grass under that tree with her sister reading to her, all pastel colours and pretty etiquette—the South was the shroom-induced Wonderland; neon-florescence, graffiti walls and puzzling streets.

The first stop was two minutes from the border. The cart came to a slow halt at the station and—

Nate blinked. For a heart-stopping second he thought Will Rigby had stepped into the cart—but it was just Casper, wearing Will Rigby’s maroon mask. Casper greeted the operator, swiped his card and took two steps into the cart when he spotted Nate. He stopped.

Both of them dropped their eyes to the front of each other’s shirts. Both of them spotted the pin that’d come in the envelopes, a gold pin in the line shape of a rose. Nate waited to see what Casper would do.

Casper thought on it, his eyes narrowing on Nate, then the operator. Then cart started to move. He took a deep breath and sat at the front.

Alright then.

Nate didn’t know Casper lived in the South. He wasn’t surprised, per se. More surprising, or perhaps concerning, was how close they lived in proximity. Casper was literally only a fifteen-minute cart ride away from Nate. Not good.

Nate stored that thought away for later.

Nate focused his attention on the land below him and the infrastructure. He could already hear the noise, the ruckus from below, shouting, yelling, honking. He counted the number of stops they passed, timed the distance to their destination.

And then the cart stopped again. The door opened.

Two boys walked in, bringing in with them three large suitcases. The silence was immediately broken. “Howwddy Jared!” The tallest of the pair chirped. He was in a blue short-sleeve and a see-through raincoat to match his transparent gas mask. His hair was a muted orange, fading to blonde, swirling into all sorts of directions. “You look well. How’s the cat?”

“Dead.”

“Ah. Well. Rest in peace Mr. Frosty.”

The smaller one of the pair only gave a small smiled to the operator. 

The pair entered the cart and paused, just as Casper had, as though surprised to find others in the cart. The taller one had a long streak of copper painted down the length of his left side, a neat strip straight down his eye. The smaller one had a grey mask the same colour as his hair. The straps of the mask made it look like he had wolf ears, whilst the front filters mimicked a snout. The same copper gold paint streaked diagonally across his eyes, coating his eyelashes.

The taller one looked as though to say something, but Wolf boy stopped him—literally stopped him—with a hand around the taller’s mouth. He quickly dragged him down to the closest seat next to them. The taller one was argue-whispering, the other was shaking his head. Then the taller one not-so-subtly looked over his shoulder to Nate, and then to Casper, and then back. Nate heard him muttering, “Welp, V wasn’t kidding.”

A while after, the cart slowed and stopped again, and the two strangers got up. Casper got up. Nate followed them out, hating the thrum of his heart beating savagely in his chest. Luckily, or not, nothing about the South was familiar to him. Nate stepped out and into the Southside Skyway Station squinting at the blaring glow of the vending machines. Ultra-violet lights. Only in the South could you catch a tan by standing in front of a vending machine.

It was so crowded. Barely anybody used the Skyway carts in the North even though they were cheaper because they were hazardous and slow. That didn’t seem to be the case in the South. Nate had to dodge around several people racing to hop into carts and out of them. Men in orange reflective vests yelled at people to stay behind the yellow lines, 10 at a time please, thank you, a soothing monotone voice boomed overhead, there has been a platform change for Cart seven terminating at Heaton—Nate made his way to the exit, a wave of heat greeting him as he made his way down the long flight of stairs. He thought he lost Casper somewhere in the crowd but—

“What do you know about this?” Casper appeared beside him. “Were you and Will in on it?”

I know fuck all. “I wasn’t in on anything.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Then don’t bother asking.” There were billboard signs in the stations. Left on Lymm Road; La Guida, with a little LG logo with a crest and banner.

Careful. He’d have to live and breathe that word like a mantra whilst he was here, whilst he sussed out if he could stay or not. Today didn’t mean anything. Today wasn’t an agreement to anything, not yet. He hadn’t signed his name to anything yet. There was still time to run. He was already walking a very thin, dangerous line by being here. Annie must be rolling in her grave so to speak.

Nate saw the tall guy somewhere beyond the crowd of people, looking to see if the rookies were following. When they met each other’s eyes, he jerked his head forward. 

“I still need to speak to you.” Casper muttered.

“Sure.”

“I mean it. I don't know what—” They took one step outside into the street, out of the station, and stopped.

They were instantly drenched in a hue of dark blues and neon pink. A highway ran above them, the pavements wet from a recent shower, reflecting the lights. A haze of the Dust fogged the streets, the slither of dawn only just starting to brighten the sky. Rickety buildings lined the streets, store fronts with no walls or windows. It was all at once an overwhelming and jarring sort of beauty, an alien alternative planet.

“Whoa,” was Casper’s comment, quiet and awed, like a star struck child. He dug through his shoulder bag and conjured up a DSLR camera, readying his lens. Nate didn’t wait for him went ahead, knowing Casper would be slow to follow but follow nonetheless. “You still haven’t answered my question,” Casper said, “What do you know about this?”

“About what?”

“Stop acting dense.” Casper snarled, but politely took a leaflet an elderly woman gave him for a half-price deal in a ramen restaurant. “La Guida. Rose. Vanessa. Will. Fuck, all of it.”

“I know probably about as much as you do.”

“You’re such a liar.”

Nate tucked away his agitation and half turned to Casper, squinting his eyes in the way that hinted at a smile. He saw the flicker of ire it ignited in Casper, but he shut up and said nothing. They walked in silence down the street, following the strangers, and the signs, towards the University at a good distance apart from each other. Nate was surprised Casper wasn’t running ahead to join them, away from Nate, but instead trailed behind him, as though to make sure he was still there.

Something still didn’t make sense. Why would Will Rigby push Rose to give Nate his scholarship when they barely knew each other? He couldn’t understand what could possibly link him to Will without having figured it out all those years that they were in high school together.

“Did you apply for La Guida?” Nate asked Casper. Casper stopped taking pictures and scoffed.

“I don’t have the kind of money for that.” Casper muttered. “I didn’t apply for anything.”

Casper might be connected somehow then. He didn’t know how, but something told him Casper didn’t know it either. If Will gave Nate his scholarship then who recruited Casper? Why?

Nate had never seen La Guida before, but he knew it when he saw it. Nate had never seen a cluster of buildings so absurd and bizarre. The scene looked like the project result of a drunken architect with a wonky ruler. He didn’t know if it were genius or just odd to look at.

Nate must’ve missed the sign that said they were in a Clarification Ring, but he could tell they were in one. He could feel it on his skin, could actually blink without that subtle stinging sensation. Students were already busy roaming around campus, dropping off bags and blaring loud music through windows, rolling suitcases behind them. For a moment, Nate felt a sudden wave of anxiety so strong it clouded his vision. What was he doing here?

“Where’s your luggage?” Casper asked, somehow still making the question sound bitter. Nate didn’t feel like answering. Casper didn’t have luggage on him either. He must be commuting too. Nate wasn’t curious enough to make it certain.

Casper clicked away on his camera, muttering something along the lines of ‘stuck-up bastard’ as snapped pictures here and there. Nate didn’t wait for him. He’d memorized the instructions. He cut his way cross the street, across the campus and through the parking lot. Casper, begrudged, followed.

But then the roar of an engine and a sudden quiet gave them pause. The pockets of students dawdling around campus simultaneously turned to the noise, suddenly drawn to the white Porsche driving into the parking lot. The license plate in gold letters spelt out ‘MAYMAC’. A truck trailed behind it, less glamourous, but twice the size, with furniture and suitcases strapped to the back with cords.

Nate didn’t need to keep watching to know who either of the owners of the cars were.

Keeley Maymac stepped out of her Porsche with all the glam and grace of a celebrity at a red carpet event, dressed to the nines in a champagne mini dress and three inch heels. Her gas mask was thin against her face, with flat filters and thin straps that strapped behind her well primed hair. Nate had known the Maymac’s were secretly (or not so secretly) one of the richest families in the North, but without the uniform to douse her luxury and finesse, Keeley looked every inch like the modern day princess that she was. Nate was unsurprised to spot the same Rose pin attached to halter strap of her dress.

Her boyfriend MacKenyu Furuya followed. He climbed out of his truck along with three other unfamiliar men in black overalls. They immediately started unloading the stuff onto the floor, working away at the wires and lugging lamps and dressing tables.

MacKenyu gave them a thanks with a polite smile. Unlike Keeley, MacKenyu wore a casual, humbling set of jeans and an off-white short sleeved t-shirt. He was taller than Rivera but with the same gym-fanatic build and a short swoop of black hair. His Rose pin was attached to his collar, too heavy for the material of the shirt and drooping. His gas mask was a cognac brown leather, double filters, subtle high brand, for a family with subtle money.

Keeley strolled towards them, flipping her ash blonde hair over her shoulders as she approached.

“Bad idea that,” The tall stranger said. “Someone might wreck the pretty thing when you’re not looking.”

“They can try.” She tucked her keys into her bags and gave them all an evaluating run-through. MacKenyu approached them too, a smile on his face that creases his eyes. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Casper replied, because nobody else did, and it would’ve been awkward to leave the greeting hanging. 

Keeley stared at the two strangers. “And you are?”

“You shall find out in due time.” The taller stranger winked, then turned and gestured dramatically with a finger to follow suit. “Follow the leader!"