The next morning.
Bryan roused the still-sleeping Sarah and Allen early. Watching them stumble through their morning routines with eyes barely open, he didn't hesitate to deliver a sharp slap to each of their backs to wake them up properly.
They ate a quick breakfast, said their goodbyes to Anna, and headed for the stairs.
The early morning streets were nothing like the day before. Gone were the elderly residents taking leisurely strolls. In their place stood grim-faced soldiers with weapons at the ready—far more than Bryan had seen when he'd first entered District A.
Predictably, the moment Bryan's group appeared on the street, they were stopped, questioned, and checked.
Between their starting point and the checkpoint into District B, they were stopped no fewer than five or six times. At the checkpoint itself, their belongings were thoroughly searched.
"Phew—finally through!"
Allen turned to look back at the checkpoint after passing through the barrier gates and let out a long breath.
District B was noticeably calmer than A. Soldiers were still present in force, but pedestrians actually walked the streets in small groups. As an adjacent district with the news still suppressed, the impact was limited.
Having done this route once before, they navigated through B District quickly and found Lulu's address without trouble.
It was already nine o'clock. When Bryan knocked, only Lulu answered—her mother had already left for the factory.
Much as the woman wanted to stay home and spend time with her daughter on this rare visit, her current work output meant one day off was the absolute maximum. Any more and she wouldn't earn enough supply cards for the month.
Once Lulu understood the plan, she nodded and agreed to leave with them. She ducked back inside, left a note for her mother, set out all the food she'd brought from school, and joined the group.
With Lulu in tow, they pressed on toward District D without delay. Lucy and Daphne were likewise at the factory, leaving only Dick waiting in the apartment for their arrival.
Learning how hard life was for the people outside the school, the group quietly resolved to bring more supplies on their next visit.
...
QZ School.
Bryan opened his dormitory door and stepped inside. Amir, who'd been sound asleep, bolted upright with alert eyes fixed on the entrance. Bryan's mouth curved into a grin. He gave him a thumbs-up. "Not bad—good instincts."
Amir looked at Bryan setting down his backpack, then turned to the bright sky outside the balcony window. "You're back this early?"
"Something came up. Had to come back ahead of schedule."
Bryan stowed his pack on top of the closet, sat on his bed, and recounted everything he'd seen and experienced in District A.
Amir listened to the entire account. For once, his perpetually deadpan face showed something—annoyance. "If I'd known you were going to run into something that interesting, I would've come with you."
Bryan's eye twitched. He couldn't be bothered to respond. He yawned, flopped onto the bed, and closed his eyes. Between the early wake-up and the morning's ordeal, exhaustion had caught up with him. A nap first, everything else later.
Seeing that Bryan was done talking, Amir didn't press. He wasn't much of a conversationalist himself. He lay back down and resumed the sleep that had been interrupted.
...
When Bryan woke, he dressed and headed straight for the library.
The post-holiday library was far livelier than usual. Students who'd stayed on campus during the break packed the reading areas to capacity. The overflow sat cross-legged on the floor with their books—an unusual sight.
It made sense, though. The school had virtually no recreational facilities. Without credits, you couldn't buy anything from the store. The library—free to use—was one of the only decent places to spend your time.
Whether spurred by the previous day's events or something else, Bryan threw himself into studying with an intensity that bordered on obsessive. He spent entire days in the library, determined to maximize his credits on the next exam, while simultaneously ramping up his physical training.
The others in his group noticed the shift. When they were around him, they spoke in hushed voices, careful not to set him off.
Bryan smiled easily enough on the surface. But they could sense it in the air around him—his mood was far darker than he let on.
This state persisted for several months before it finally began to ease, much to everyone's quiet relief.
During this time, just as Bryan had predicted, Anna received transfer orders and was reassigned to the clinic.
Time flowed like water. Every month, Bryan's group earned substantial credits, exchanged them for supplies and food at the school store, and funneled the goods to Anna and the others living outside the school zone.
They also set aside a portion of their credits each cycle. Once they'd saved enough, they'd visit the school pharmacy to redeem essential medications—cold medicine, anti-inflammatories, and the like. The quantities were always small.
This was a source of constant frustration for Bryan. Treating injuries at the school clinic cost next to nothing in credits, but taking medicine with you when you left? The price was astronomical. Presumably a safeguard against students hoarding medications or selling them on the outside.
Each month, when they left campus for the QZ proper, Bryan brought a large notebook and pen. Outside of sleeping hours, he walked every district of the QZ, recording routes and mapping the locations of key landmarks. He ate his meals on the move.
While familiarizing himself with each area's layout, he painstakingly sketched everything he'd observed, working toward a comprehensive map of the entire Quarantine Zone. He'd done the same thing back in Austin—this was well-practiced territory. Naturally, the work required avoiding military patrols.
To ensure thoroughness, Bryan threaded through alley after alley. But the moment anything felt even slightly off, he turned back immediately. He never took unnecessary risks.
Military installations and the more dangerous neighborhoods in each district got marked with red outlines, labeled with a name and a question mark—to be investigated later, when he had the means.
Of course, life couldn't stay uneventful forever. Their group's growing pile of credits eventually attracted unwanted attention from other factions on campus.
Leading the charge was True—the same kid who'd beaten Amir months ago, only to get his own comeuppance a month later.
His journey since then had been a humbling one. First, he'd been thrashed by the Black kid he'd looked down on. Then the other rising gangs on campus had beaten him into the dirt. His followers scattered. He'd gone from ringleader to a one-man army of nobody.
That humiliation became his turning point. True threw himself into training with genuine fury—lifting, studying combat manuals, practicing technique. His progress was nothing short of remarkable. Even the military training instructors were stunned by the transformation.
He systematically hunted down every person who'd beaten him during his low period and paid them back in full. Even when outnumbered several times over, he didn't flinch. One by one, he forced them to submit, reclaiming his position as the dominant figure among the school's troublemakers.
Riding high on his comeback, True turned his sights on Amir. It was payback time.
He marched up with his new crew and intercepted Bryan's group on their way back from the library to the dormitory.
After his solo crusade against an entire gang, True had developed genuine confidence—along with a healthy dose of arrogance. He proposed a one-on-one fight with Amir. A proper duel. He wanted his revenge fair and square.
Bryan's group was genuinely surprised that the kid hadn't tried to leverage his numbers. The decision to fight one-on-one showed a certain code of honor—or possibly a malfunctioning brain. Hard to tell.
Either way, it worked in their favor. Amir was deeply moved by the challenge, accepted graciously, and proceeded to demolish True with effortless, devastating efficiency.
After that one minor hiccup, nobody bothered Bryan's group again. Word got around: these people were not to be messed with. When other groups picked targets, Bryan's crew was automatically excluded from consideration.
And so they continued their quiet existence on campus, riding out what would prove to be the most peaceful years of their time inside the Quarantine Zone…