Two rows of terrified youth, each plastered, clingingly, to the fences on opposite sides of the tennis court. 16 bouncing 4-square balls. 16 times times 20 opponents per side: the numbers were staggering. The odds of being struck by lightning paled in comparison. You could win lotto 35 goddamn times before you'd escape a barrage like this.
And someone said "GO!"
They raced to the balls, grabbing all the resources they could muster for their side, hoarding the ammunition. When one side has only 3 balls, it's much easier to keep track of who's hunting you.
Her side had 11...
The gate closed behind them. No one knew what was in store for them. There was a collective sigh as people resignedly turned their heads this way and that, trying to get their bearings. All the panic and fear and questions had been exhausted on the two hour train ride to this place. Sam wasn't sure what "this place" was but he knew it was no good. He heard chains being wound on the outside of the door. Definitely no good. He heard a padlock click into place.
They'd all been rounded up the night before. Some snatched from beds,...