Where Is Outsiders Set Novels & Stories

Her palms are clammy as the echoes of the inmates swirl in her head. They’re now heading into the deeper part of the alley. Even though it’s morning, there’s hardly any sunlight in that area. Small tents made of cardboard and paper have been set up along the alley. There’s movement in the shadows and she can make out the figures of several people within the tents. No doubt that they must be homeless people who don’t have anywhere to go. Many of them are huddled together for warmth while others are busy scavenging for food. No one’s looking their way, not even bothering with the strangers who have entered their turf. Scarlett is a little nervous but Ryder is blending in perfectly which awes h

Since I hated to be there, I nodded simply, and he took my hand as we began to march from the car. We were at the far side of the city, at the outskirts of Ethan's territory. The fancy buildings and neat pavements were replaced by trees and green life, with brown sand under our feet. They had arranged their execution grounds far from the busy life of the city, but still, a lot of people turned up to witness the execution. I guess people have a passion for pain and suffering, I thought.

Nora P.O.V We pulled up to a weathered apartment building on the bad side of town. The streets were cracked, littered with broken bottles and crumpled paper bags, and the walls of the nearby buildings were covered in fading graffiti. The people here looked rough, wearing old clothes and eyeing us with suspicion as we parked the car. A group of men huddled around a broken fire hydrant, speaking in hushed voices, watching us as we walked past.

Atlas's shoulders relaxed a little; he gave me a small nod. So I sat in the living room, waiting, counting down the minutes till Thane walked in through the door. He promised, and so I waited. ------ THANE'S POV. SIX HOURS EARLIER. I stood outside the address Josh had given me, an old, abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town surrounded by woods. The trees towered above us, casting ominous shadows on the ground. My skin crawled at the unsettling atmosphere; this was the perfect hideout for a criminal.

Lila’s POV The facility sat nestled in the Montana wilderness like a cancer, sleek, modern, deliberately hidden beneath layers of concealment wards. From the outside, it looked like nothing. A stretch of unremarkable forest. From the inside, Dante’s scouts reported, it was a nightmare.

No estate would be beautiful enough, no talent perfect enough to make someone look past his sins and, in Nimbe's words, 'dirty obsessions'. Indeed, 'dirty' was the perfect word. As he found himself on the edge of the small town southwest of Bingsby, he saw the usual young boy playing sticks with his friends upon the dirt lane, the old greying deerhound napping upon one of the small house's steps. It was a picturesque place, with people who would never comprehend the horrors he would face and in turn, create, but he always came here when he needed to start his journey anew. The other children, spotting him, promptly ran inside their homes and hid behind their mother's smocks, afraid of his fa

A few minutes later, she gave him a location. The location was not what Liam had expected. If anything, it was far from what he had expected. The place was dirty; the tall buildings around it were covered in dirty walls and there were litters all around. It looked like a deserted city; its eerie silence was enough to convince him of it. This was a place well suited for poor people, especially homeless people and street kids. It was like one of those cities in movies where thugs hung around, waiting for big shots like MJ Billings to stand in the middle of the street and lean against their fancy cars.

It took three days before they could come out of the fog, without Calhoun and his men ever taking a rest. Once they came out, they found themselves in another surrounding. It was still a desert, but this time filled with rocky hills, caves, and tent settlements made of animal hides. Calhoun immediately surmised that they had reached the territory of the Outlaws. There was no soul to be found in sight as he walked down the sandy streets. The sun wasn't as terrible as it had been when they first entered the wasteland; It probably had something to do with that fog, another mystery of the wasteland. The sky was bleeding red, and desolation could be felt enveloping the whole atmosphere. The small

She asks frowning. For the first time, I pay attention to what surrounds them, I do not recognize that part of town, the buildings around them are old and seem uninhabited. The walls are filled with graffiti and the streets are filled with trash, it looks like the kind of place where those who can not adapt to society live, the Outcasts. Mabel turns the volume up to hear what the reporter is saying.

I watched them until they disappeared from view, my chest tight with fury. “Drive me to the outskirts,” I barked at the nearest guard, storming toward the waiting car. The outskirts of the pack were as miserable as ever. The once-thriving land was now a haven for outcasts and stragglers—omegas and refugees from the last war, scraping by in dilapidated homes. I wrinkled my nose as the car came to a stop in front of John’s cottage. The sight of it—the chipped paint, the sagging roof—made my stomach churn.