Feeling his shoulder being shoved, Val flinched and woke up startled, tossing his right arm to protect himself. He was disoriented, still trying to figure out what was happening, but his body reacted almost automatically. He heard a grunt, and a familiar, whining voice. “Gah! What'ya doin', that 'urts.” Squinting, Val looked up to see the only real 'friend' he had in the 'rat pack.' The boy was about Val's height, with dirty, blonde hair, blue eyes, and an oval shaped face covered in pockmarks. Just as much skin and bones as Val, the boy had a pouting face, almost as though world had wronged him.

Val coughed, clearing his dry throat and blinking away his drowsiness, as he noticed the light leaking into the hall of the 'rat hole.' He muttered, “Sorry... been a long night.”

The boy, Arman, looked to side, whispering, “Ya alrigh'? When ya didn' make it in last night, the others said ya were a goner.” Val could hear the worry in the boy's words.

“How many others?” It was a question he was dreading asking, since the last three times he had asked it, he had not like the answer. Sitting up, Val glanced at the run down interior, seeing a handful of other children a little younger and older than him moving about, whispering among themselves.

Arman sat down cross legged next to Val and continued to whisper. “Ay' counted five didna' show up.” The boy's slum accent was thick, but Val heard the fear in the words and knew what it meant. There had been another culling, something that happened maybe twice a year. Most of the weaker or less productive 'street rats' would go missing one night, leaving only the tougher or maybe the luckier ones in fear. Val had expected it, especially after what happened to him the night before, but knowing five others had disappeared overnight made Val grip his ragged pants in helplessness.

“They were sayin' you wouldn' be back. They sounded fer sure.” Arman was looking down as he said it, and Val noticed how nervous the boy sounded. Val didn't have to ask to know who Arman was referring to. Some of the older teens were already on verge of being officially accepted into the Bone Crushers. It meant they had survived the years of winnowing.

“Well, they were wrong.” Stretching his arms out, Val moved his stiff muscles, looking at his arms in the light. There were still splashes of mud on him, but he could still make out the black and blue bruises. He had no doubt that the rest of his body looked the same.

Arman looked up, his face serious. “Yah, but you don' get it, Val. They were serious abou' you not making et.” Val stared at his friend's face and realized that whatever had happened the day before was more complicated that he realized.

“What do you know?” The question was calmly asked. Having died once and almost dying a second time had a way of changing one's attitude towards things.

“Just tha' Ribus and his mugs were 'ere yesterday riflin' through some of the other's things. Then , they said ya don' have anythin' worth takin'.” Arman was rubbing his left thigh as he spoke, which told Val volumes about how nervous the other boy was.

Val bit his lips in contemplation and then shook his head slightly, sighing. “Well, I'm back, so I'm guessing they won't be happy.” Arman nodded but didn't say much more.

Just then, Freitz, who had shown up out of his separate room near the entrance of the hall, growled out loud, “Get yer asses movin'! Ya know yer streets, but the ones lef' over are free game. Jus' don' expect to keep 'em if ya can't produce.” There was no official acknowledgment of the missing 'street rats,' but Val knew he probably would never see them again. As they shambled out of the 'rat's den,' most of the children avoided looking at Frietz, who was smiling nastily as he watched them leave. Val wondered if the old man was just had a twisted personality or if there was something more he gained. However, he figured only the old man could answer that question for now.

It was bright outside, the fog from the night before having faded away like it had never been there. Also, it wasn't as humid as it had been the night before, but the clear weather did little to make Val feel better. He remembered his last thoughts before falling asleep the night before and knew he had a lot to do. However, as he made his way out of the little side street with the other children, he felt his stomach growl in hunger. Not having eaten in almost a full day left him feeling weak.