Catcher trails after me through the crowd, the tips of his fingers pressing my lower back lightly so that he doesn’t lose me—a reassurance that he’s still there. Elbows dig into my ribs, and some people hiss as I force my way through, but I ignore them. When we near the front of the pack the Recruiters guarding the gate brandish loaded crossbows and yell for us to step back.

There are already a dozen dead bodies littering the gap between the mob and the fence, and a handful of people hover over the injured. I stop in place but my body keeps vibrating. Everyone’s so frantic it’s only a matter of time before the panic ignites.

Elias steps forward, holding his hands open and to his sides to show he’s also a Recruiter and unarmed. He tries to shout over the screaming mob, but his voice disappears in the roar of the others. Finally, the Recruiter by the gate motions Elias closer.

Catcher holds tight to my shoulders as we watch them confer. The Recruiter shakes his head and Elias’s gestures become more adamant and fierce. He’s turning away, his face red and furious, when down the platform a door to the cable car opens and a large man steps out.

He’s wearing a Recruiter’s uniform—not dingy and frayed like all the others, but crisp and clean with a red sash of fabric over his chest. He strides toward the fence, all his focus on Catcher.

His mouth moves as he shouts an order, and I think he’s telling the guard to let us through, but I can’t be sure. The crowd surges and screams, shoving against us. A girl next to me stumbles and falls, but before I can help her up she’s trampled and I’m pushed too far away.

Catcher shoves me to the gate, a throng of Recruiters trying to keep the swarms of panic-stricken people at bay. They begin to climb the fence, not caring about the curls of barbed wire on top. I can’t watch as they tangle through it, as bright stripes of blood stretch over their skin.

My body seizes at the memory of the razor wire’s pain on my own flesh. At the burn and sting. Catcher punches a man trying to pull me back from the gate, trying to take my place. People scream and wail in my ears and claw at me as the gate slips open a crack.

Recruiters reach through, yanking me past the fence, and then Catcher’s after me. It’s too much for those left behind. They sense the opportunity and pounce, tearing at the fence and pounding on the gate.