The town of Erie is memorable for its proximity to one of America's Great Lakes, the long freezing winters brought on by the lake, and remarkably little else. Sidewalks are decorated with tall statues of frogs, though there are not many enough for it to be an "Art Town". Restaurants all ride on the quality and reputation of their "Greek Sauce", though for a town's signature food, it is not different enough from a Sloppy Joe to put it on the map as a "Food Town". Aside from the few strange differences that separate it from any other highway exit town, Erie was just another blue-collar Rust Belt town. A quaint town where the serial-killer craze of the seventies and crack head homicides of the eighties hadn't stopped young boys and girls from having paper routes to buy ice cream, where teens can still be found at arcades congregating before youth organization meetups to share math homework and trade CD's, and where everybody's balding father roots for the same local football team, drinks the same local beer, and voted for the same local mayor. The kind of wholesome place you move to to get out of the city and have kids, only to find that your kids become teens and think it's too boring to stay. To visitors who would read neon green highway signs, Erie was "The Sunset Town", because they wanted to encourage sentimental old people to retire by the lake. To local townies, it was known as "The Mistake by the Lake", because there weren't enough jobs a robotic arm couldn't start doing in the eighties to support the population that had put down roots there by then.

This was a town where the wealthy channeled their unspent energy from having little to do in being invested in sports and television, competing with their neighbors over the dimensions of bushes, and the superior quality of their car and wife to their neighbors, despite each being equally as worn-out and faded. For the poor, the dearth of activity or blue-collar work was channeled into bars, liquor stores, petty crime, and the two crack houses in Southside. Rich or poor, however, there was remarkably little to do in the quiet town this time of year for those uninterested in hayrides, cider, or football. Fortunately, the latter of the third kept the town from having a little more intrinsic value than a town built for bomb testing. It was September, and there was a damp chill already in the air -- Too cold for the fireworks and barbecues of small town summers, and too hot for sledding, snowball fights, and other wintertime comforts the town had from late November to early March. According to the Bargain Lumberjack, an animated caricature who would appear on local access commercials, it was just cold enough to put chains on your tires, especially if you want to do it at Bargain Lumberjacks, where they've got so many bargains, they store them in cords. That was the type of thing that sold in Erie, after all. Mascots, appeals to those who keep firewood in their backyard, and cheap tire treads. In many ways, some could say the only thing to do in the fall in Erie had remained the same since it was populated by men with buckles on their hats: Prepare for Winter.

Fortunately, it was still autumn, and Erie's autumns were far more pleasant than the winters. Rows of tall deciduous trees paved the sidewalks and caged the streets like the ceilings of cathedrals, filling the parks with red, orange, and gold leaves that filtered the last bit of the year's warm sunlight like a tea strainer. The remnants of the long summer were slowly disappearing, and every day there seemed to be fewer and fewer plastic pools and trampolines decorating lawns, and more and more gourds and bundles of dried flowers decorating doors. Although the sleepy town was far from buzzing with excitement, it still wasn't half bad to look at, if you were outside to look at it. Most of the residents in Erie had long-since settled for indoor activities by now -- The arcade, museum, L.E.M.O.N.S, and the many coffee shops and bars throughout the town were progressively getting less business as people opted to stay home more. At least the folks at Blockbuster and Little Caesar's were doing well. Them and the mall. The mall always did well, especially now that The Sharing practically camped out on the front doors armed with pamphlets and punch.

Today was a Saturday, which invariably meant different things in different parts of the town. In Perry Square, this meant those stubborn enough to refuse the gathering cold could grill and throw around a football. In Cedar Hills, it meant that the liquor store opened an hour early and closed an hour late, if you came to the backdoor. Saturday was the best day for the cafes downtown, and an even better day for the Lemon by the lake. For Strong Vincent, it meant room 404 -- located at the top of the school for God knows what reason -- held Saturday detention. There were two students at the back of the room who respectively argued with a teacher and defended the other student's argument, who were there for their sole missed weekend. A tall young man sat at the side of the room closest to the window, there for the first of his two-saturday punishment for rear ending the principal in the parking lot. In the middle sat a girl, on her second of three detentions for smoking in the girl's bathroom, and a boy next to her who simply intended to make up a test that was on a day he had skipped. Finally, at the front of the room, right next to the teacher's desk, sat an irate young man who essentially lived at Saturday School, fourth floor or not.

The six had little in common. A few shared friendships and acquaintances, but were by no means a team, or even a cohesive group at that. After detention, they collectively began walking home in a group out of chance, all having to walk essentially the same route to a bus stop, before small-talk gradually pervaded through the awkward silence. Friend and friend, acquaintance and acquaintance, classmate and classmate. Before long, these conversations all convened into one; The looming abandoned construction yard between themselves and the bus half of their group was headed towards. Cutting through it would save a good ten minutes, given that it spanned two blocks that had to be walked around, but at the same time, there was a sense of danger to the place. It was where a third high school was being built a decade ago, until some reason or the other shut it down. It was a place of shadows now. The type of spot teens dare each other to spend Halloween night in, until the wind rattles the fences and echoes throughout the empty concrete halls. It was an ivy-laden hotspot for tetanus and homeless derelict stabbings, and worst of all, it was private property. A misdemeanor if they were caught, which was not impossible considering what little the police in Erie had to do on any given day.

C.J. Makowski was for the better part surprised that the thought was even being considered by the motley group of classmates she had found herself stuck with, especially considering the fact that at least three of them were the ‘type’ to not cause any trouble ever. She looked over to the group at large before ultimately she decided to just get it over with and take the initiative to jump the fence first; perhaps that was all they needed? It had been a portion of fence that she and Ash had jumped before for a variety of reasons, so it wasn’t a difficult concept. Foot in, foot over, and done; she wasn’t sure about the rest of them, but honestly she didn’t give much of a shit to care. As she looked back she rose an unimpressed eyebrow before uttering a comment before Noah or whomever could squeal in protest or surprise. The nonchalant manner she spoke in could have been upsetting but if any of them knew her before detention, which they did, they would know she did not waste time with bullshit and liked to just get to the fucking point.

“I’ve got places to be. C’mon. Stop wasting time and just do it.”

She crossed her arms as she kept her eyes and ears open, waiting for whoever was going to join her in taking the shortcut.

Gabriela hadn't really anticipated coming this way with the whole group of weekend delinquents. She only really knew one, was casually acquainted with another, and was pretty much a mystery to the last few. While not by any means someone who went out of her way to cause trouble, she had managed to find herself in it through the defense of her friend. The reason he had been sentenced to detention was a complete crock of shit, in her opinion, and she would have much preferred to go down fighting for him than let him waste away in the boring, near-empty jail cell of a classroom that was room 404. Aside from a stern talking to from her folks and a few wasted hours, it luckily wasn't too terrible of an experiece, but goddamn did she want to get home.

On the walk to the stop, she mostly gravitated around Connor, but also spoke out to some of the others when casual chatting began to spread among the group. She found most of them fairly agreeable, and a couple not entirely so. Some discontent arose at the fence of the abandoned construction site, its reputation well-known and less than safe. "I mean, it can't be that bad, can it?" Gabi thought. It wouldn't take too long to get through it, really, the worst part would be jumping over the barrier. "It's just a quick in-and-out. Get in, stay quiet, get out, go home. It'll be fine."

Before her friend could put some sense into her, Gabi was already halfway up, carefully ascending the sealed and vine-covered entryway in the hopes of avoiding the potentially deadly stab of a rusted chain link wire. At the top of the fence, she straddled it and looked down, waving at the others who had not yet begun the climb. "Come on up! You guys don't really wanna walk all the way around this place, do ya? It's too big for that, man. Sooner we're through, less chance of getting got by some weirdo with a knife in here. We're wasting daylight!"

She continued to ignore things like common sense and basic laws by lifting her other leg up and over, then sliding off to land on her feet. It wasn't too far a drop, so aside from a small stumble she attempted to play off smoothly, she was fine. "See? We good." An encouraging thumbs up was offered to those of the party that remained hesitant.

It had been Connor's first visit to the 404 and it was not a particularly proud moment for him. Even for a relatively small crime of swearing in front a teacher, it was still a mar on his otherwise perfect school record - well, barring a lunchroom incident a few years back. He didn't talk much on the way, and walked at the back in hopes of minimizing conversation with some of the other students.

At least he had friends here for company.

Connor needed to take the bus home, and when conversation got to the subject of cutting through the abandoned construction site, he stayed silent. He was hoping that some students - particularly Ash - would take the shortcut so that he could peacefully take the long route with Gabi and Noah. No weird tension.

There was no way Connor was going through the construction site anyway. Five years back, a freshman named Laurence Neyman had gone in there and got stabbed in the leg. Needed 17 stitches. His parents got into a huge lawsuit with the city and the local news swarmed over it like flies. Nothing as prolific had occurred since then, but Connor was content to walk an extra ten minutes of safe, legal sidewa - Oh, come on.

"Gabi?" She was doing something dumb again. Connor watched as his friend started climbing, the clinking of the fence sounding way too loud on the empty street. He looked at her helplessly, trying to figure out what to do. "C'mon, get down from there."

Gabi was now on the opposite side of the fence. Great. "Gabi. Gabs think about this. You could get seriously hurt in there."

Well this is a surprise.

Gabriela Mendez, as far as C.J. was aware wasn’t this daring and seeing the surprise on Conor’s face signified that this was relatively out of character for her; but maybe it wasn’t – C.J. didn’t exactly know the girl that much, so this could’ve been perfectly in character. For all she knew Big Business and Gabi got into all kind of shenanigans she didn’t know about. A curious thought. The blonde-haired girl looked over at Connor following his protest at Gabi’s own vaulting of the fence. Number 2 to have the balls. She was surprised Ash hadn’t been the one to vault the fence right after her given their past with the construction site in question. Connor’s protest did bring back the whole Larry Neyman bullshit to the back of C.J’s mind, though, but she probably remembered it differently considering Homeless Jack was the nicest guy she had ever met. She, Ash, and Jack had shared more than a few smokes as he gave them probably the most useful advice an adult had ever given them. Larry Neyman wanted to play the game of “piss off the hobo” and what he got for it was an old combat knife in his leg. Safe to say, Larry’s parents weren’t too keen on losing their chance at being the parents of the kid who took Erie to regionals.

It was a story that reminded her of Noah, who effectively was this year’s “Larry Neyman”, though he may as well been Larry’s exact opposite. From the stories she heard Larry was more than a little crazy; she once heard her older sister say he pelted a stray dog with a handful of rocks. She shot a quick glance at Noah before looking back at Connor.

“And she could seriously save some time, too. Trust me, been in here a lot. You won’t get stabbed… probably.”

Homeless Jack would be suspicious about a bunch of teenagers, but once he saw her and Ash he probably wouldn’t draw his knife and threaten them to ‘scram’ -- or at least that was the hope.

All things considered, Noah's first visit to the 404 hadn't been horrible. Sure, he'd only been there because principal Hinton decided to pull out of the parking lot without looking for an oncoming pickup truck, but the worst part about the whole ordeal were the awkward looks he'd gotten from his fellow students when they discovered him there and the subsequent loss of anything even resembling interest when he'd explained the circumstances. Well, that and the fact that he now had to take a public bus into town for the foreseeable future. He wondered just how long it'd take the guys at Pennzoil to fix his admittedly beat up Chevy. It wasn't a particularly long walk to the bus stop or anything, but just how the mismatched group of teenagers ended up walking together and not immediately fracturing was beyond him.

That was, until the two females of the group decided jumping a fence into an abandoned construction site was a good idea. If there were an opportune time for the group to split up, this was it. Noah didn't know either of the two girls particularly well, but much like Connor, he didn't particularly like the idea of following them over. At least, not until he heard C.J. mention the time. Noah responded by fetching a Nokia mobile phone out of his left pocket with an easy grin on his face.

"It's only an extra ten minu-"

Noah's eyes went grim when he glanced down at the screen in his left hand. Just how long had they been in room 404? Just how long had they been walking along making idle chatter? Needless to say, Noah didn't fancy having to call his parents to pick him up in the city because he'd somehow managed to miss the bus. He pocketed the phone and didn't take more than a second to make up his mind and climb the fence himself. It didn't take him much more than a single vault. Benefits of being a considerably taller than average teenager. That, and he could reach the top shelf at the supermarket where all the good Little Debbie's snacks were kept.

"Well, you know what they say about strength in numbers."

Noah dropped to the other side of the barrier with a bit of a thump and shrugged his shoulders.

"What's the worst that could happen?"