The morning flew by, and lunchtime came around. This whole day had been so strange. So different. My entire focus had shifted, all thanks to that one encounter with the Javerd this morning, that had completely turned my schedule around. I started listening, and listening and listening. My ears shifting left and right, listening to the mutters, and whispers, watching their faces to the last detail, looking for signs. Any signs. Signs that might give away more survivors that just could be here in the school.

This is ridiculous... I think, walking along the corridor. There are only four of us in all of North America. What are the chances that we’re all in the same state, in the same city, at the same school? What are the chances that we’re even the same age? Or the same.... race? I think, hesitating at the thought of it.

Trudging down the stairs, I yank the hatch open, and step down the 3-legged ladder into the school basement. Throwing my locker open, I stuff my books inside and grab the sandwich I’d shoved in there this morning for lunch. I then make my way to the lounge - the best place to be, in my opinion.

The “lounge” was really just a big empty space in the basement, but since the school stuck all our lockers down here, it became the hotspot hangout place for aliens of all kinds. Eventually we dragged in some old armchairs and roughly battered couches from the city dumb, officially naming this place “the lounge.”

Walking around the lounge, I look through the crowds of people for Raven. I finally spot him on the green couch in the corner. I drag myself, partially-willing, over to him, seating myself next to him on the sofa.

“Afternoon.” he greets, nodding his head politely.

“Technically it’s noon.” I comment. “So, what’s your big plan for finding the other 22 survivors?” I ask, changing the subject. Raven shakes his head.

“Not 22. Just two. The survivors are spread all over the world - four in each inhabited continent. Our job, for now, is only to find the four in our continent, the rest will assemble on their own. Once we’ve found our four, we’ll find a way to join up with the rest of our team.” Raven explains.

“So how do we find our four?” I ask. Raven shrugs.

“To be honest, I don’t really know. They could literally be anywhere in North America.”

“What about me? You knew I was here. That’s why you were doing the survey, you were looking for... wait a minute!” I exclaim. “How did you know I was here? In your school?”

“Because before I met you, I met two lurkers.” Raven answers.

“What are these lurkers you keep talking about? Doesn’t sound like any race I’ve heard of.”

“That’s because they’re not a race,” Raven explains, “they’re a group of Survival Gamers disguised as the locals.”

“I don’t suppose this was the ‘friendly competition’ Myrror was talking about?” I mutter sarcastically.

“It is.”

“That’s it, I hope?”

“Yes, but the problem is we don’t know - we may never know - just how many of her Survival Gamers she sent down here to try and get in our way.”

“Do these... ‘lurkers’ know who we are?”

“No, they don’t know anyone, nor do we. At the start of the game, every man is for himself. But the lurkers have played this game over and over again, and they know all the strategies to link up. Not to mention, they know each other, whereas the 24 of us are complete strangers. We just have to find them before they find us.”

“What happens if they find us?” I ask nervously.

“They will sacrifice anything to keep us from winning the game.” Raven answers, his voice grave.

“I was afraid of that...” I mumble, looking down and half-consciously taking a bit out of my sandwich.

“You don’t think it’s those two over there do you?” I hear a distant, random voice from somewhere in the crowd of chattering aliens. Angling my ears, I decide to listen to their conversation.

“No, definitely not, that’s Emma and Alisa.” A second voice, much deeper and stronger, answers.

“Who’re they?” The first voice pipes.

“The popular girls. They’ve probably never experienced a bad thing in their life.” the second voice comments skeptically.

“So... what? We look for someone sad?”

“Not necessarily, but there has to be some hint that they’ve experienced some type of family trauma.”

Family trauma? I think. I glance at Raven, and the look on his face alone tells me that he heard them too.

“How’re we supposed to look for that? Most people nowadays just forget about it and go back to laughing at retarded Facebook posts and meaningless pictures on Twitter!”

“You’re going to offend someone if you keep talking like that.” the first voice warns him calmly. Turning back to Raven, I lean towards his ear.

“Should we go talk to them?” I whisper. Raven turns around abruptly.

“No, no, no! We are most certainly not going to approach them out of nowhere like a couple freaks! They could be lurkers for all we know, we need to do this at a more... sneaky level.” he explains.

“How sneaky can you get when your job is literally to hunt down a bunch of strangers?” I snap.

“We can’t just approach them directly.” Raven argues.

“Use your survey! Worked on me, didn’t it?”

“Worked? Worked?! Worked terribly, that’s how it worked!” he exclaims.

“Terrible, yes, but effective.”

“We are not doing that again.”

“Fine, then we’ll just roll with it.”

“Roll with it?!”

“Watch and learn.”

“Where are you going!” Raven calls, but I’m already halfway towards the two voices, still chattering on in the middle of the lounge. I eventually find the voices - two aliens resembling crosses between fox and human. One of them has light orange fur, and oddly long ears, almost like a donkey.

Obviously a Mirken. I think. The other one has jet black fur, but no characteristics whatsoever that would match him with any alien race I knew. Must be another one of those crazy minor races running around here. I think to myself.

“Hey, you two!” I call, walking over to join them.

“Klere! Stop! What are you doing?” Raven calls after me, stumbling clumsily through the crowds trying to reach me. The two foxes look up when they see me approaching.

“Oh, uh, hi!” the Mirken greets me, giving me a toothy grin. The black fox gives me a stern nod.

“I couldn’t help but hear you two talking about a search for someone.” I begin. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Raven slam his face into the palm of his face.

“Idiot...” he mumbles.

“Um... and this got your attention because...?” the Mirken prompts.

“Because I just also happen to be looking for someone.” I answer, lowering my voice.

“Klere!” Raven mutters sharply. I roll my eyes, ignoring him. The black fox and Mirken glance at each other warily, then back at me. Seeing that they don’t intend to say anything, I continue.

“So who is it you’re looking for?” I ask.

“Don’t see how that’s any of your business!” The black fox cuts in sharply.

“Fine! Why are you looking for… whoever?” I stammer impatiently.

“That’s not any more your business than the first question you asked.” he replies bluntly.

“You said you were looking for someone. Who?” The Mirken pipes in. I turn to face him, a smile beginning to form on my face as I think of the “appropriate” answer.

“No one. Just a couple nobodies. Very traumatic couple of dudes, had a rough past, I suppose, but just like everyone else, they lived through it, life goes on, right?”

“Nobodies? Huh… couldn’t be us, eh, Jack?” The Mirken nudges the black fox on the shoulder, giving him a sly grin. Jack glares at him, baring his teeth in a vague snarl.

“Klere! Back it down a little! They could be lurkers!” Raven whispers to me. I shake my head at him. They certainly don’t look like lurkers… I think, examining their scruffy features. The two of them whisper back and forth to one another - probably deciding whether or not to trust us. Out of nowhere, an idea pops into my head, a crazy idea, but an idea nonetheless.

“Hey, you know what I’ve always been very fascinated by?” I speak up, causing a sudden hush to their whispering as they turn their attention back to me and Raven.

“Can’t say I really care.” Jack comments. Well gee, you’re gonna be a whole lot of fun to work with… I think sassingly.  

“Klere…?” Raven gives me a strange yet nervous look.

“Puzzles,” I continue, “they’ve always got me going. You know, I’m currently working on one of the most difficult puzzles I’ve ever done in my life!”

“You’re not going to tell us about it are you…?” Jack mutters, partly to himself.

“Hey, this ain’t no ‘grandma’s morning puzzle,’ fuzzy!” I snap.

“Klere!” Raven exclaims. I glance over at him, wincing at the authoritative look he’s giving me. As our gazes meet, I can just see him mouth the words “be nice.”

“Boy, you’ve got quite some attitude for a girl.” Jack comments.

“You couldn’t complete this puzzle if you tried!” I snarl.

“Can’t? I’m already working on it.” He retorts.

“Yeah, and you’ve sure done a great job so far.”

“Will you two just be. Quiet!” I turn to see Raven with his ears flat on his head, his hands curled into tight fists. There is an awkward pause, and none of us are really sure if we should say anything. Finally, the Mirken speaks up.

“What’s his problem?”

“You are.” I snap.

“Me?” His eyes widen in clueless innocence.

“I was being sarcastic, twit.” I roll my eyes, growing impatient.

“Don’t talk to him like that, or you’ll answer to me.” Jack warns. That’s it, I’m tired of this! I think, my cheeks flushing hot with anger, I decide to put it straight.

“Are you a survivor?”

“What?” Jack snaps.

“I said, ‘Are you a survivor?!’” I yell.

“Shh! Klere, what are you doing?!” Raven shouts at me.

“Well, are you?!” I prompt. Jack stares at me, protesting against my angry screaming with his dead silent bitterness. For one moment, there is a pause, and no one says anything. For one moment, the clock stops ticking and everything is still. For one moment, we’re all just lost in our thoughts… of the past 5 minutes… 5 hours… 5 days… 5 years, even…

“Wow… This. Is. Tense, yo!” the Mirken says, breaking the silence.

“This isn’t a game!” I snap.

“Yes, it is.” Jack looks up, locking gazes with me. “And I am a Survivor.”