It started in the amphitheater in Mosswood Park. Nicole, Ian and I walked the few short blocks from home. Nearly every seat in the place was filled and standing people took the space close to the stage. Casual chatting. Hugs. Tying on armbands. Looking at maps.

Dax, on a megaphone explained the rules. Your armband must be visible. You must go to the checkpoints in order. You may travel on foot or on public transit. The city doesn't know the game is happening, and it shouldn't need to know. Cars are still real.

There was about two hundred of us at the start, all running from the amphitheater, towards the first checkpoint, at the top of a hill. I ran up West MacArthur. Neon pink bunny ears poked out from behind a building and I had a few second's warning before Qarly rode out from the other side on her bike. While she circled a few of the slower ones, I darted across the street.

A group of three people waited at the corner for the light to change. We walked together under the freeway and continued up the hill, following smaller streets, through neighborhoods. I hid in someone's garden as Rubin rode down the hill, his face covered with a mask, orange ribbons trailing in the wind. I was alone.

The first checkpoint was about a block away. I could see a player with an orange armband standing at the end of the street, guarding the entrance to the park. Another green ran towards him, making a desperate run for the rose garden. He was tagged. A new orange ran up the hill. I scrambled up the ramp of a moving truck. When all of the oranges were occupied, I bolted up the hill and ducked behind a car. Joe, all dressed in black, with orange ribbons fluttering in the wind walked slowly down the middle of the street. He didn't see me.

Checkpoint 1 was so close. As I ran to an entrance, I heard loud footsteps coming up behind me. Shit. An orange girl. These stairs lead into the garden, but we're too close together and I'm not a good runner. I dove into the ivy, sliding and rolling to the bottom. And I was on my feet again, not looking back.

Fortune tellers waited at the top of another set of stairs. They sat at a table, cards spread out before them. Choose a card with your left hand. My card was the Magician. I always get a card from the Major Arcana, and the Magician is a familiar one. She said, the magician is a good card for this game. The Magician does not wish he had things that he does not, but he bends the environment to suit his purposes. I would do well to channel the Magician during the game. She stamped my map. I thanked her and stood up from the table.

Ian and Ed were covered in dusty things and cobwebs. They followed a creek through the sewer to get to the other side of the freeway. Nicole and Kai had been tagged already. Colin too. Oranges hovered at the edges of the safe zone. We'd need to find another way out. It became clear that any friends we haven't seen in a while could no longer be trusted. Jason, Ian, Ed, and I clung to a fence and climbed through various forms of plantlife. Where we came out to the sidewalk again seemed clear.

Four turned into two on each side of the street, signaling to each other when it was safe to continue. Checking first to make sure it wasn't a trap, we ran across the bridge over the freeway, bodies low, trying to conceal ourselves behind the guardrail. The freeway spread out beneath our feet. The sun's orange-pink glow flooded over the rush of cars. This, a city I've lived in for nearly three years, is still largely unfamiliar to me. So much is still new.

More walking, running, and hiding behind things. The area started to look more familiar. We were near Whole Foods, close to Lake Merritt. Through a parking lot, through thorn bushes, over a fence, and back onto the ground again. A girl asked, what were we doing? Jason happened to know her. We're playing a game. That was enough of an explanation for her. We continued on.

We crossed a street and were in the safe zone - the complete wrong end of the safe zone, but we were safe, so it didn't matter. We found Dax at checkpoint 7. We were looking for checkpoint 2, where we'd meet the unlikely, cross-dressing fishermen in formalwear. Orange construction fences were trampled. A woman in a suit and a man in a dress greeted us there, at the edge of the water, and signed our maps. Someone warned us not to travel along Lakeshore. It was a killing zone.

We had hoped to catch a bus, but there were oranges between us and the stop. Our path took us up into hills and smaller streets. It was getting dark. It was no longer obvious from a distance if people were green, orange, or if they were players at all.

Up a staircase, climbing two stairs at a time. Running down the hill on the other side. Jason and Ian were ahead of Ed and I. We crashed through the weeds of a median to rejoin them in front of the Leaning Tower of Pizza. I remembered being twelve, making similiar moves through the dead zone between Washington DC and Arlington. It feels like a lifetime ago, but I still remember the plants scratching at my bare legs, the hiding in the shadows waiting for Uncle Kenny to return with news about crossing some highway or another. Back to the now. Back to Oakland. I wondered where other friends were. Who has been tagged? Who is still going? It would be unwise to try and make contact. Phones will only get us in trouble now.

And up another hill. There were a few people on the other side of the street, talking to each other. We couldn't tell if they were players or not. Their silohettes gave no information. In any case, they didn't seem to notice us at all. We continued on, trying to keep it that way. They noticed us after we had passed them slightly. Ian was the first to run. A girl came after me and I ran into the street. Her momentum looped her around a car and then back after me again. In a last sloppy effort to save myself, I thought I could tumble over the edge of a car's hood and lose her. No. I just ran into the car and she grabbed my back.

I became a chaser and immediately looked for anyone who hadn't been tagged yet. No loyalties here. Ed was tagged too. Ian and Jason were nowhere to be seen. Ed and I travelled together, trying to come up with strategies for catching people. We sought out the path that Ian chose to bring our group to Checkpoint 3.

We arrived at the checkpoint without seeing many greens along the way. We had lemonade and greeted other friends as they filtered into the park. Skippy and Evan's group was doing pretty well, taking long routes around everything. Ed and I looked for a bus, but ultimately ended up walking along the edge of the lake, all the way to Checkpoint 4.

It was near Lake Merritt BART. We looked around for anyone exiting the station. Ed chased Cubes as he left what we thought was the safe zone. I turned around and walked as casually as I could back toward the station. Evan ran away from some other orange and directly into my arms. A closer look at the map revealed that we were in a safezone.

We continued on to Checkpoint 4. Last we heard from Slim, he was there. He said he was still green. But that didn't really mean anything - was he green, or just saying that. We were just saying it. He left by the time we arrived. But there was Minotaur, dressed in latex and leather, at the center of a chalk labyrinth in the glow of streetlights. Greens had to battle her and take the ring from her nose before they could get a signature and move along to the next checkpoint.

We rested for a short time. Eden became orange right before this checkpoint and joined us. We shared stories of coming to the Bay Area, how each of our lives made the appropriate turns.

There was a tangle of freeway onramps and offramps to cross. It looked like a closed sidewalk would lead to a bridge of sorts. I stepped around the sleeping man, over the gate, and onto a cracking sidewalk. Shortly after the corresponding barricade on the other side, the sidewalk ended. Oh well, at least we tried.

Since the traffic wasn't heavy at that time of night, we waited for it to break and we ran for the safety of the orange barriers on the lake side. We were aiming for the clusterfuck of streets in the triangle formed by checkpoints 4, 5, and 6. We walked along Broadway for some time. And in an outdoor mall, there was a bit of excitement as an orange chased a green over a fountain and then back out again. We heard from some others about a resurrection phone near checkpoint 6. It was around here somewhere, and probably already closed down, but it was worth checking it out.

On the other side of the mall, we ran into a guy who had been tagged right outside of Checkpoint 7. He was resurrected and then was tagged again. So now he was nothing, a floating spirit.

We examined the map to figure out where Eden's old group might go on their journey from 5 to 6. There were several choke points since not all the streets passed under the freeway. MLK? That seems sufficiently far from the obvious Broadway path.

And once again I experience the city at night. Under moonlight and tungsten. I lacked the patience to stand still and wait for them. I paced up and down the block. It felt like the game was over. There wasn't anyone left to chase, and it was getting close to midnight. We made our way to Checkpoint 7. I kept my eyes open for any greens running in. Though it would really be a dick move to grab someone that close to the end, it would be hilarious to scare them.

Tired and achey, we walked to the last checkpoint. Lights and shadows. The maps was projected into the space. Hugs. Checking to see who finished with each armband. Skippy, Evan, and Lee made it, along with some others.

The walk back to Cakebread from Lake Merritt seemed insignificant when compared to the rest of the night. It was a relatively small gathering - just the organizers, those of us who live here, and a few other friends. Ian's feet were bright green because his green shoes got wet. Everyone had collapsed onto some surface or another. A few people were stretching crampy muscles. We shared food and stories of the night. The minotaur was charmed by the white flower given to her by Slim. Morley's noble sacrafice allowed Lee to finish the game. Ian got caught while hiding from greens. Rubin had some bike adventures chasing people. The stories continued the next morning as all of us woke up again.

My experience of the city is forever changed. The concept of a reasonable path and what counts as a way out have expanded greatly. The links of friendship are stronger with shared experience. And though there are many people I saw only briefly, the experience runs parallel. We took different paths, but we all did this together. And in the days of recovery, we are all similarly sore - slight whining, with a knowing smile.