"Come on, wise guy, who's crazy?" Terry glared at him.
"You know what'll happen to you if you do anything to a section leader?"
"We didn't ask to be here," Mike said. "And we didn't ask to be pushed around, either, or told where we could go and couldn't go. Or be called crazy, either. The whole thing is dumb."
"After the games, if you're still alive, I'll report you for that," Jon said.
"Still alive? Who you kidding? You talk like there was going to be a war. Grown-ups do that, kids don't."
"What do you think you're being trained to use your weapons for?"
"That's easy," Terry said. "So we'll know how to use 'em when we're grown ups. It's called UMT or something."
"You guys are cr—ah, don't be funny. The games start in three days, then you'll know if you're in a war or not. And frankly, I hope you both end up back there." He turned, started walking.
Terry and Mike let their hands fall from their weapons, followed after him.
"Nobody's being funny," Mike said. "Suppose we do end up back in that place? So what?"