It had been more or less an hour that I had spent on the edge of the room, my sharp and attentive eyes on the lookout for jacket-clad children who decided the new amusement park would be the perfect place to steal something from. It had come in the newspaper. The bloody bodies of a couple who had come here with their son to celebrate the father's promotion. Police had said that they were part of a discreet cult called poklonniki d'avola... Worshippers of the devil. Their son said that the devil told him to sacrifice his parents, or face the reality of the Sun dying. No one believed him. He was killed in the following days, in front of everyone to see. I was there too. I had heard him scream and shout in pain. I had seen his body get cut up in pieces, his blood flow like a river, and his bones glisten in the same sun that he had killed his parents to save. My family believed him. We were what Americans call 'Gatekeepers' or 'Guards'. He wasn't crazy, or a threat to the nation. He was scared... and now dead. I shuddered awake. The white landscape was as white as ever. Not a change in the landscape other than... footprints. I grabbed the gun from the drawer. It could've just been kids, but the footprint was massive. It was definitely that of a tall man. Either he showed me his papers or died. There wasn't an option for him. I stepped out of my shelter and traced the horizon for movement. I smiled. There were two people behind the carousel.
