...trudged along the deserted streets, looking for the Sign. It was hard, in the dark. A lot harder than anyone had thought. But the Sign would be there. It would be clear.

It had to be.

Because if it wasn’t-

-then her worst fears would be realized. A trap, and now, the little faith she had in her informer was dwindling, when one of the many peices of torn newspaper that littered the streets caught her eye. It was perfectly folded so that the words “Go On!” were seperated from the rest of the head line.

She reached the conrete staris of the glass tower, thinking to her self, ”....