Shadows Ablaze

Chapter 3- Jaxon

Every bounce of the vehicle sends a waft of rotting leather and stale air through the aisle. My eyes survey the inside of the bus lazily, noting the wrinkled gray seats that have been leeched of color by the carnivorous sun and the scrawny bodies that slouch carelessly against them. No one seems to notice the lack of color or the stench.

The sun, despite having only risen two hours ago, is already intense, beaming down on the dirt covered road and drying whatever moisture is left from yesterday's rainfall. The bus pulses with dry heat as the engine thrums through the metal frame. Sweat collects on my forehead and the back of my neck. I swipe at it, not concerned about the dirt as it smears from the back of my arm to my forehead. I look like any other orphaned kid; sad, dirty, and irrelevant.

The metal groans as the vehicle comes to a halt in front of a depressing, red brick building. Big, black letters above the entrance announce 'Police Department,' which would appear intimidating if it weren't for the letters 'o' and 'r' dangling upside down. 

As I step off the bus, the cloud of dirt stirred by the tires hangs like a blanket in the air, trying its best to settle in the unmoving spring air. A couple kids cough, waving their hands in front of their faces to push away the residue. I scoff at them. It's as if they haven't lived their entire lives in this wasteland. They should know better than to try to move the stubborn, polluted air.

My fingers fiddle with the neckline of my shirt, shifting it higher until it covers my nose and mouth. I breathe slowly through the fabric, knowing that while it may not filter all the debris, it will block the larger particles. We walk through the vacant parking lot, wading through the dirt cloud until we reach the door.

The only noise comes from the street a couple yards away as people shuffle across the cracked, steaming blacktop that used to be a road. The bus we came here in is one of the only cars in sight, other than the single police cruiser that is parked at the side of the building. The only people that use vehicles are the Elites, the hospital, and the police. The gas is too expensive, good car parts are hard to come by, and most of the roads are too damaged to drive on. I'm surprised the orphanage was able to get their hands on a bus.

I wonder how much it cost Justice Haven to rent, I scowl at the fact that the orphanage would spend money on a bus but not real food. They'd rather give us pills that contain all the nutrition we need than actual chicken or bread or oranges. I can't wait to turn eighteen and be rid of this place. I wish I could get out sooner, but I need to find a job first.

A squeal skips across the dehydrated parking lot as the headmaster pulls open the door, waving us inside. A man dressed in a police uniform approaches, watching us from above his hooked nose.

"Hello," he greets in a deep, almost menacing tone. I wonder if that's why he got hired. His voice alone would be enough to intimidate most anyone, as can be seen in the way some of the kids shy away from the man.

Most of us don't come face to face with police officers very often. Most. I look to the right at where Bear is standing. That's not his real name, of course, but rather a nickname everyone gave him after seeing a picture of a grizzly bear from the old world. After all, Bear doesn't look much different than one of those creatures. He has a massive torso, with large, bulky shoulders and biceps. His head is round and covered with dense brown hair. Dark facial hair scrambles across the fair skin above and below his lip before crawling up to his ear. It's scarce in a couple spots along his jaw through no fault of his own; it just refuses to grow.

The officer's almond shaped eyes jump over the group before leading us to the middle of the room.

A smaller kid freezes in front of the officer. "Move," Bear growls, sounding like the animal he's named after, as he shoves the kid out of his way.