Molly - Part 1

Chapter 29

Sam turned in his bed, then--realizing he was awake--got up and began to pace the room, rubbing the back of his neck. Sighing sharply, he took his jacket and went out of the room. Terry and Carla were there, waiting for him.

"Hey, where are you--"

"I need to walk."

"Sam, that's not the best idea," Carla said, hands curled around her emitter. "You need to remain hidden."

"If I have to stay in that room for another minute, I'll go crazy." Sam almost laughed, then said, "Please."

Carla still didn't seem convinced, but Terry said, "Yeah, of course man. Go ahead. We'll follow."

Sam sighed and went down the stairs, listening to the soft tapping of Terry and Carla's feet, realizing he would never be alone again. In a way it was encouraging, a new way of experiencing life. In many other ways it was a hell on earth. All Sam wanted to do was join his family, but fate had dictated otherwise.

He heard dogs barking, crying out to the sky, but Sam ignored it. Just another day in the city.

The sky was faintly violet despite the clouds and the wind was more gentle than it had been these past few months. Sam found a rock and settled on it, cranning his head back and breathing in the wind, reaching into his pocket and taking out a joint, lighting it with a burner and breathing in deep.

He extended it to Terry, who shook his head. Carla just stared at him in return.

"More for me," Sam said, "but it's always better with someone else."

"Sam...you know we have to keep focused," Terry said. He cleared his throat, fidgeting with his rifle.

"You sure?"

"Yes, he's sure," Carla said.

Not wanting to talk anymore, Sam focused on the joint, at this new world splayed before him.

Eventually Carla said: "Can't believe you were the one we picked."

Sam imagined a more plain sky: blue, like the ocean, and the ocean itself all alive with people, coming and going, living normal lives without knowing of or seeing the guillotine racing at their necks.

He remembered people screaming. He was around here, sitting on a bench most likely; it's what he liked to do after his shift. They'd been paying him to tutor new college-kids for a better part of five years. Jobs were hard to come by back then, and harder to keep, so eventually Sam abandoned long-dead dreams and settled. It was, in a way, the beginning of the end.

His mind wandered...

Sam ran into an autortium where a bunch of students were gathered. He had heard the sirens and figured this would be a good place to hide until the noise stopped. When they saw Sam Terry was the first to approach, saying: "They're using fucking bombs."

Sam--in an instant--knew what he had to do. A lifetime of no-action had accumulated and was now bursting at this moment.

"You have to listen to me very carefully. I don't know what's coming, but I think I have a good guess. Okay?"

Terry nodded quickly. Sarah, with her piercing glare, took a step back and said, "Why should we trust you?"

"You can't; you shouldn't."

They gathered and spoke on what Sam said. He overheard Terry telling them that he'd seen Sam around and that they could trust him. Eventually one of them broke away from the pack.

"We don't know you," she said. She looked more haggard than the rest of them, and surely she knew best what was likely on the horizon.

"Well, my name is Sam. Like I said, I think I can help."