My hand feels for the slick, grey metal of the pistol at my back and I pull it out in front of me. Nothing in this world, not the safety of walls, not the promise of protection, not the roof over my head, nor the food in my stomach, can give me peace of mind like a loaded gun in my grip.

Chapter 6 - Remi

Spending the entire next morning holed up in my dirty apartment going through Paxton’s journal feels like I’m in school again. I hate it.

The entries date back to the first meeting of the elders, and for the first hundred pages it makes no mention of any Shadowface. But then, things start to change. Dating back to just under a year ago, Paxton writes about a meeting where the elders talked about a supplier. He didn’t make mention of any name until a few pages later when an elder named Kenneth suggests requesting a truck from Shadowface. As I turn through the pages I see this more and more. Everything ranging from food, to weapons, to clothing. There seems to be no mention of him unless the elders want or need something. I flip through every page until I reach the most recent entry.

Shadowface, I think to myself. He’s just a supplier. I stick out my lower lip and nod, happy that I didn’t find out that Paxton is some axe murderer with a twisted plan to turn all his citizens into greyskins. I slip the journal under my mattress and I see the silver glint of the pistol I stole last night. I hesitate for a moment, wanting nothing more than to keep it by my side but I know I can’t. First, there’s the rule that no ordinary citizen is allowed to be armed. Second, it’s a nice pistol. It’s not the kind you just steal and show off to all your friends. It’s the kind an owner would recognize which is why it was doubly stupid for me to take it in the first place. I panicked last night. I saw it, so I took it - just like they took my gun.

My ears perk up at the sound of the building’s front door crashing open. “We’ll start at the top floor,” comes the voice of Gabe.

I sit up straight on the bed as the pounding of footsteps rush up to the top floor. The pit in my stomach is growing and I know they will come barging in here, looking for the journal. But it’s Gabe, right? He wouldn’t set me up like this. Would he?