I walked into the school yard, carefully walking around traps and tripwires, lasers and land mines. I shook hair out of my face. I hated that stupid explosion. In rectrospect, I probably shouldn't have hid in a hair salon. Those stupid Draculoids exploded the entire thing . .including the hair dyes. Which got all over me, especially my hair. Being the person I am, I hate being brightly coloured. But it makes people think I'm happy. Keeps them from asking questions. People always ask sad-looking, or angry-looking people questions. happy people were ignored. I picked up my Rifle ray gun, holding in both hands, and left for a walk to Battery City, through the searing heat of the border between Zone Five and the nice, cool Utopia of the City.