You’re a boy from a dystopian woodland called Sector 0014, or S14, one named Finchley, a runaway planning on taking a newsboy job far out of town. You’ve got some people on your tail, but nobody’s gonna catch Finch. You’ve hitched a ride on the back of a train, sitting on the back of the caboose, letting the wind breeze through your hair as you watch the dusty, barren plains around you. Suddenly, one of the important folks from Central approaches you. “Hey.” He says, smiling down at you.