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Ludlow smirked. "Thank you. Now I know which of you are under 18. Mike, you don't count.Anderson!"Neo jumped."Go with them. Make sure Reeves stays put."Neo looked sad.**And so while the valiant go off to fight and claim their freedom, he leads the line of reluctant teenagersdown the safe way away from the sounds of gunfire – where the rest are charging on towards. Neojoins them at the rear. Interspersed among the kids are Alex, Julian and Paul, having decided to join hisparty instead – a decision met with the sounds of Ludlow calling them wimps and other less polite thingsbefore he and his friends ran off to shoot at things.The world out there is calmer than he expected, the worst having happened while they were safe inKenselton Hotel. There is debris on the ground – buildings here and there are missing chunks ofconcrete, shop window glass litters the sidewalk, streaks of dried blood run down the asphalt; and thescattered people have an aimlessness in their walk.The troublemakers had been dealt with; King Kong had been baited with bananas and tranquilised andtaken away, as had the more dangerous superheroes, minus the bananas. He spots occasionalambulances screaming down the streets and at several points wonders if he should go after Ludlow'sgroup and convince them that their hostage plan would get them nowhere and they had might as wellgive up. Others had evidently tried something, and whether they had failed or succeeded he had noidea – that path had, either way, already been trod, and re-walking it would prove a redundant waste oftime and possibly lives. But he lets it go.He wonders where everyone is; the city is devoid of rioting fictional masses. He knows it's been a daysince the escape, but nonetheless the calm strikes him as out of place. Perhaps it's for the better; noone pays much attention to their odd procession, giving them no more than a glance before trudgingover to some other part of road.They make a fairly large group – him and the other four adults, and then the fourteen teenagersincluding Bill, still separated slightly into the two arbitrary groups that he doesn't even know why stillexist; and he would like to make some comment about all of them being part of the same family, but itwould sound strange, coming from him, as does any other statement he makes regarding the unusualrelationship that binds them together.And so he tries his best to ignore the warily suspicious looks that pass between Rupert and Matt orWinston and Ron, and just keeps his thoughts focussed on the destination ahead. He was bringingthem home.And he sees the barely hidden wonder on some of their faces as he approaches the gates of hisresidence, the initial reluctance giving way to reverence and hints of envy as he lets them through thegates and into his house itself; he hears at least one 'whoa' escape awed lips, but never discovers theculprit.Most stand around as though scared to touch anything, hands in pockets and regarding his home withjealous respect; others seem to finally acknowledge his presence for the first time since the walk began,and he returns their gazes with a smile.Neo looks for a computer and doesn't find one."So we just stay here and wait?" Derek asks."I suppose so," Paul says, attempting to steer the cornflakes guy away from the general direction of not-Tim."What's for lunch?" Chris asks; and he decides he could whip up something easy – pasta, perhaps. Hesometimes fancies himself a chef, but this is no time for experimentation. One does not use one'scharacters as gastronomic guinea pigs. It's one of those unwritten rules of life.But they number nineteen mouths to feed, and the cornflakes guy probably deserves some genuinecornflakes after all this time.