I turn the handle of my bedroom door, peering out of it, scanning the hallway for anyone that could possibly be awake in the middle of the night. The hallway is completely empty, quiet as the dead. I push the door open fully, cringing at the creaking noise that probably resembles Gabe's singing voice.

I step outside into the hallway and close the door more slowly this time, minimizing the agonizing creak. I tape the note I had spent all night writing to the outside of the door.

Gabe,

By the time you get this, I will be gone. I left because flipping merchant carts and starting riots are not enough to make a difference. The reason I stayed in the Underground was that I wanted to change things, change how the government works. I'm sorry that I disobeyed the Council's rules, but I can't sit back while things only get worse. I will be back, assuming I survive. Tell Caden that I do forgive him, and I know what happened isn't his fault. Tell Dakota that I really do like him, but I have ignored him because I am hurt, and I don't want to hurt him more than he already is hurting. Tell my brother I love him. And Gabe, I know that you are my best friend. 

-Cass

It'll do. It's not like I'm coming back soon.

I am clad completely in mission gear. I wear a black leather jacket and the leather pants and the multi-functional watch. Strapped to my utility belt is a gun, an extra container of bullets, a whip made from flexible metal, and about $6,000. I take deep breaths in and out as I make my way down the corridors.

The iris sensor of the door leading to the ladder scans my iris and unlocks the door. I hold my hand out and open the heavy door with a flick of my wrist. I climb up the ladder carefully, trying my best not to cut myself on the rusty jagged edges. I finally make it to the top, scan my iris, and push the hatch open. I open the door in the small cement building and I am exposed to the outside world.

I take a deep breath in, filling my lungs with air that is cool and fresh. The moonlight dances on my skin, bathing it in silvery light. I notice a lake to my left. Funny, I hadn't seen that last time I was out here. The still water perfectly reflects the full moon, twinkling stars, and deep indigo backdrop.

I manage to tear my eyes away from the lake and refocus on what I am here to do. I walk through the woods. This time, I am not going with a team, and I am not being led. I know the way (A/N Cass knows da wae.). I have to stick to my plan.

I reach the end of the woods and look out over the tiny Village. I take a deep breath and pull the hood of the jacket over my head.

I finally reach the train station and pay for a ticket to Western Capitol. I have never been to the Capitol City, but I know that it is where all of the government buildings are. According to Gabe, they have secret subterranean workhouses there. They enslave elderly, adults, teenagers, and even sometimes children. They grow extra food and make extra clothing and weaponry. They are severely malnourished and beaten horribly. So basically my childhood, except I was never expected to make weaponry. I was trained to shoot a gun once or twice, but the lessons stopped when I accidentally shot the neighbours' cat. Oops.

The train finally stops in front of us, the white pod-like train cars gleaming in the moonlight. I board the train along with a large number of people heading to the same location and other stops along the way. Unlike most other trains I have been on, the seats are arranged in two rows. The rows are two seats wide, with one next to the round window and the other next to the aisle. I choose a seat right next to a window and look around the train, praying that no one sits beside me, but of course a middle-aged woman puts her bags up in the luggage compartment and takes the seat next to me. She flashes me a smile which I weakly return.

"Where are you headed, sweetpea?" The woman asks.

I cringe at the nickname "sweetpea". It's what my parents called me when they were acting like real parents.

I carefully consider my words. When I say them, I know that they are the best ones I could have chosen.

I rest my head against the window and watch the quiet Towns and sparkling Cities roll by.

What I said could not have been more true. I chose the perfect words.

I'm going to right a wrong.