The Outlands

Chapter One

The black silhouette of a vulture circles overhead, its large dark shape contrasting with the bright afternoon sky. It flaps its outstretched wings a few times before returning to its casual drift, hovering in circles far above the city as if weightless. Its flight looks almost effortless. What a sweet freedom that would be.

"Come on!" Victor shouts, shoving a large sack into my arms. The light stubble that covers his square jaw makes his expression even more pronounced. He's not messing around. His voice is loud and forceful. Time seems to slow down. I am too lost in thought to really process what's happening. Instead of running, I freeze. It's stupid. Here I am standing around awkwardly, twiddling my thumbs, holding a bag of stolen goods. Seems like a good time to move. Instead, I am acting like a lawn ornament.

Despite his forceful shove, I remain frozen, holding tightly to the sack he'd just handed me. I look down at it and then back up at him. I can hear the sounds of angry voices and the thumping of boots against pavement getting closer. Victor may have gotten away with the prize, but he brought some unwanted guests. I can see it now. No, officer. I don't know where this bag came from. I was just doing my famous statue impersonation, and it showed up. Oh, I'm going to the Justice Block? Awesome.

"Jett! Come on!" Victor pulls at my arm.

My legs spring to motion. Nothing like a little adrenaline to ruin a perfectly good daydream. My cargo makes running awkward. Victor shouts for me to run faster, and I look over my shoulder. Three men in black uniforms with red accents on the shoulders and collar are charging after us, their heads covered with the traditional red beret of the city guard.

"Stop! Thief!" they shout. The sound of their approach encourages me to speed up.

Victor slides to a stop in front of me, nearly causing me to crash into him. At the end of the alley, I see two more guards with their bright red berets. We are boxed in. The guards in front of us turn to face us, blocking our escape. There's no time to think. The shadows of the guards behind us are looming closer with every moment.

"We're heaped," Victor mutters.

"There." I point, my brain finally joining the party.

About thirty yards before the end of the street is an intersection. I dig my feet into the ground and launch my body forward as hard as I can, propelling myself toward the side-alley, our only means of escape. There's no choice, no talking our way out. Either we escape or we become the newest residents of the Outlands.

The guards, who we call Red Caps , stare for a moment, apparently stunned to see thieves rushing toward them instead of away. That provides just enough of a distraction to keep them from noticing the side-alley. By the time they do, it's too late. We are halfway there when they move to intercept us.

I reach the turn first, but I need to buy some time. I scan the area. An empty crate lies at the corner of the building. I kick it as hard as I can in the direction of the approaching Red Caps. The crate flies right between both of them, striking the one on the left in his shoulder and ricocheting off him with a cracking sound. The crate then smashes into the Red Cap on the right, hitting him squarely in the stomach. I tell myself that's what I was going for, but I couldn't have planned that kind of luck. I just hope it slows them down long enough. Victor passes me and takes the lead.

A hand grasps my shoulder; one of the Red Caps caught up. His approach is too quick to control, so now it's time to fight back. I roll my shoulder, loosening his grip, and drop my body down. The Red Cap's momentum carries him forward. I trip him up with my foot and shove him in the back as he stumbles past me, sending his off-balance body into the two Red Caps approaching from the front.