Haley woke up in the middle of a road with unfamiliar faces staring down at her. A lot of unfamiliar faces. Her head rang like a hollow drum and her mouth tasted like dry seaweed. Seaweed? Why did she smell and taste like seaweed?
“She’s alive.” Someone whispered.
“Should we kill her? She has no Trackers.”
“But she doesn’t have a Singe either.”
“She must be one of the Free Ones.”
“Impossible! The Free Ones are only a legend.”
“Then what is she?”
Haley groaned at the noise and she rolled over, covering her ears.
“Everyone shut up!” A voice rang out of the crowd. “Don’t you see how she’s moaning from your noise?”
Everyone seemed to simultaneously apologize as an old man walked out of the crowd and kneeled down next to Haley.
“What is your name little girl?” Haley forced open her eyes and stared into a pair of soft gray ones. They looked old and worn. Life was still vibrant, yet it was overcasted by extreme sorrow and a terrible pain drawn from violence.
“Haley.” She managed to cough out from her dry throat. The man looked at her with pity.
“Take her in! She needs a home!” He shouted to the crowd and someone walked over to pick her up. Haley fell asleep again, but the last thing she remembered was the steady rhythm of walking.