Upon leaving the relative safety of his camper van, Whitney became aware of another just like him in the crowd. Perhaps he or she was watching him, scrutinising his every move. Where were they? He much seek them out.<em>Finding another of his kind would be wonderful</em>, he thought. Claudia could sense it too, Whitney know that. However, there were more pressing concerns such as the many dead all around him. What happened here to these people? He could see all of them. Sometimes this was overwhelming and today was just such an occasion. Claudia held his hand tight. This helped to know she was there for him and him her. He took in a deep breath and focussed. His interest was mostly on the teenager who spoke to him. This terrified dead adolescent that had just warned Whitney of the coming danger and was about to leave. In an attempt to stop him, Whitney remarked with some heist “Boy! What is your name and what happened to you? Who are coming? We don’t have much time so speak quickly.”<br/><br/>Whilst Whitney waiting for the response or even the boy to return to his side, he began to understand who was coming. It was most likely to be the BNP or some other organisation with as much tolerance as a group of people standing in a room with placards saying tolerance is dead long live racial hatred. But the boy did return and did speak and Whitney listened.<br/>