50

DOG

"There she is!" the pilot screams. “The Quarantine Zone wall…”

The interior of the dropship is a long, windowless cylinder. The armored marine cadre is seated in rows along both walls of the transit hold, supported by padded deployment seats.

I lean forward in my cramped seat and look down the long aisle to the open cockpit and through the gun windshield at the night beyond.

Sure enough, there in the darkness is the Quarantine Wall, snaking across the barren landscape like a black snake. With my sensitive eyesight, I can even make out tiny dark dots moving across the parapets - the guards who command the heavy artillery to keep the mutants contained within.

Mutants like me.

My heart pounds with excitement.

It's always good to come back to the Zone. Overcrowding and polluting the beehive of the city is no place for me. I need open meadows and dark woods where I can run free.

I'd rather go alone, but this time I'll have company.

I look around at the other occupants of the ship as th