“I can’t take it anymore. I can’t stand waiting,” Jordon announced one cloudy morning after a dozen or more dark green drones had surveyed their camp and counted all the children. “It’s been weeks since I last spoke with my parents. Something must have happened to them. They promised to come back and get me from this dang camp as soon as it was safe. Has any one heard from their parents?”

The tall, seventeen-year-old with shaggy, dirty-blond hair eyed the other three teens working near him in a large garden where they grew their vegetables, one of many crops they had to grow and harvest if they wanted to eat.

“No, I haven’t, and no one I know has heard from their parents in weeks either. I lost track of time, but it’s been way too long,” said Josh, another teen of the same age.

“I’m so worried,” said Brian, a slightly over weight sixteen-year-old, “but what can we do? We’re stuck here behind these tall cement walls with unbreakable steel locks and no way to escape. The walls are way too high to climb over. Face it; we’ve been forgotten and left here to rot.”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic. I’m sure our parents are trying to find a way to free us and keep us safe no matter what it takes,” Dillion, a seventeen-year-old with glasses and cropped brown hair, chimed in. “You know,we aren’t here for punishment like juvenile hall. We’ve been left here for our protection. So, be happy that we’re safe.”

“Safe? You call this safe? The drones have plans for us, I bet, plans we will not like. I’m sure of it,” said Dillion.

“I’ve been studying the drones and have learned their patterns,”said Jordon. “They had one flying pattern the first few weeks, but the pattern suddenly changed, and this new pattern has been in motion ever since.”

“Yeah, I’ve been watching them too,” said Courtney, another seventeen-year-old with jet black hair. “The drones strategically arrive and depart at the same time exactly every day. They spend only four minutes in total to count the children here. After exactly four minutes, one drone departs, and the others follow. I’ve counted thirty-two drones in total.”

“Thirty-one, huh? What do you think it means if anything? You think it’s a coincidence that there are exactly thirty-one children here, ranging in ages from two to seventeen,” said Jordon.

“One drone per kid?” said Brian. “Interesting? But, why the extra drone?” Is that weird or what?”

“No, not really if you remember what happened to that thirty-second kid when he decided to take a nap instead of work in the garden?”

“Oh, yeah. Oh, gosh. I’m really scared,” said Molly, who had just turned fifteen last week. “Let’s not speak anymore of it.”

“Well, I’ve been thinking of breaking out somehow and going to find out what happened to my parents. The organization responsible for locking us up in this camp must have our parents trapped somewhere where they can’t communicate with us.”

“That sounds a bit crazy,” said Dillion, a seventeen-year-old working in the garden. “Sounds impossible. You just said the walls are too tall and the locks unbreakable. How do you plan to escape? Can you fly?” He laughed but no one else thought it was funny.

“No, just listen to my plan before you deny it,” Jordon said,looking at the group of Josh, Brian, Dillion, and Courtney who had gathered around him. “I’ve been studying the drones for some time now and have learned their patterns. They had the same pattern for the first few weeks, but their pattern suddenly changed, and this new pattern has been in motion ever since. If they are on a schedule of some sort, which I'm sure they are, then according to my observation, their pattern is about to change again. This is when I'll make my move and get up over that wall."

"But wait," Josh said. "Have you really thought this through? Will it work?"

"Ask him the more important question," interrupted Courtney. "I'll ask him. Hey Jordon, if you make it out safe and find your parents, will you be coming back for us?"