CHAPTER SIX

	"*Peace!*" "*Love!*" The students cried their shouts against the war, as they 
stood in a large quad in the center of MIT's campus. Some students were 
standing around holing signs with pained slogans like "Stop the killing, stop 
the war" or "Make peace now." Others were chanting their calls, waving their 
fists in the air, or just standing there. A few people were standing around in 
the large crowd leading the others into passion passion against Vietnam, 
getting them all rallied up.
	Sam tried to make his way through the crowd, bumping into several of the 
protesters as he walked around. H was looking for Jordan. Al said he was going 
to get killed once the rally turned violent. It was not violent yet, so he 
guessed he better get him out now when there was still time. He elbowed people 
out of his way, nervous that he would never find him because of the herd of 
people in the area. He looked around fearfully, quickly but throughly at all 
of the people around him.
	Sam's stomach started churning and his breath increased drasically as he 
heard the loud, repetitive sounds of police sirens headed i the direction of 
the area -- the first sign the savage riot was about to dawn upon them.
	Fate was on his side, however. He finally spotted him just ahead, and moved 
quickly over as fast as he could. "Jordan!" he called, hoping that he would 
hear him through all of the noise from the crowd. He did not hear him, and Sam 
had to call his name two more times as he neared him before he did.
	"Scott?" Jordan questioned, turning around. He was so wrapped up in the 
excitement of what was going on around them that it took him a fwe minutes to 
realize his friend was calling him.
	"We better leave now," Sam commanded.
	Jordan's so-called friend, Air, turned towards Jordan. "Come on, man. You're 
not going to listen to him, are you?"
	"Yeah, why should I?" he asked defiantly, acting like Air's puppet.
	Sam heard all of the reasons why begin to sound around him -- the police car's 
sirens from their cars parked on the road near the quad, the police trying 
to begin to break up the protest, the protesters beginning to fight back with 
calls against them. Sam looked intently at Jordan, who would soon become a 
victim to the volcano which was beginning to rumble and quake. "We better get 
out of here fast!"
	"Why?" Jordan asked again, as Sam grabbed the arm of the unmovable body and 
tired to tug him towards the safety of the dorms.
	"Because your life depends upon it," Sam answered sincerely. "Just come with 
me! Now!"
	Jordan looked around him, and aw what was going on. He did not know if it wa 
natural instinct, the fact that somehow he trusted Scott a billion times more 
than Air at that moment (Although he claimed he knew both of them only since 
the beginning of the school year), or maybe, something else all together. But he 
started to burst through the crowd with Sam towards their dorms on the opposite 
side of the campus, far away from the riot which was going on.
	However, instincts stopped as the mass of people forced them to break up, 
leaving them alone. Sam turned around looking for him, and finally spotted him 
again, walking away with Air and looking as lost as Sam felt. Sam felt 
miserable and anxious, because as soon as he reached Jordan, he though his 
friend would be safe, but then he was again lead away into danger. Sam could 
tell that he did not want to leave with Air to join in, but he was looking for 
another chance to break away from him and get out of the mob since he could no 
longer see "Scott." Sam knew their prior effort was in vain. Jordan was going 
to be killed, and there was no doubt about it. He was being lead away, towards 
the violence which will be his downfall before drugs even had the chance.
	A female protester tried to hurl a large rock at a cop standing nearby. But 
instead of hitting the cop, Sam watched the stone as Fate steered it right into 
Jordan's head. The young male slowly raised his had to the impacted area near 
his left temple as he instantly collapsed to the ground, passing out.
	"No!" Sam yelled ferverently, as he charged over to him like a steam 
locomotive. Once he reached his friend's side, he saw him lying on the ground 
unconscious. He hoped that Jordan was still alive. Remembering that Al said he 
was going to get killed, at fist he assumed it was from the National Guard or 
the police, not from "friendly fire" -- but when one ends up dead, there is 
nothing friendly about anything. He tried to keep everyone around the out of 
the way so they would not be trampled, as he kneeled down besides him to check 
if he was alright by getting his pulse and looking ofr any movement or senses 
working, any sign that he was still alive. He tore off the sleave of the 
shirt, which he assumed was Scott's, to bandage the spot where he was hit, 
which was bleeding. A streak of fresh blood was pouring down his temple. He 
felt that the blood, although a sign of injury, was a sign that he was still 
living. "Jordan?" he asked, hoping that he wass now conscious and could hear 
him. "Jordan? Can you hear me?" 
	The body let out a muffled, soft groan as his eyes slowly opened.
	Sam smiled happily that he was fine for now, but knew that he should get them 
out of the crazed hoard. This time for two reasons: one so he would not be 
killed, and two, so he could rest and get better.
	"We're going to the dorm," Sam said. "Think you can walk?" If he couldn't, he 
would carry him all the way across campus.
	Jordan got up as quickly as his injured body could, wobbly and dizzy from 
being unconscious for almost three minutes. Sam and he ran through the campus 
as fast as they could towards the dorms, away from the riot which was going on 
around them.

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Monica