Out.

My City

I know this city. The people. The sounds. The smells. The way the wind moves. You learn these kinds of things after having slept in the same place, in the same alley for the past two years. Running away hadn't been hard, hadn't been painful. I wanted to be alone, and alone I was. But, the hard part to running away was staying lost. The police, the private investigators, the people trying to help me get back home, where I didn't want to go were always on my back. So, I had to know this city. I had to know each alleyway that could provide an escape, each fire escape that could lead to a haven. Which electric wires were live. I had to know each person who would walk by on their daily commute, know whether to beg or pickpocket, know whether to borrow or steal. I know my city. But on that morning, this wasn't it.

The end of a cold winter was nipping at my back where there was a hole in my raggedy blanket, my worn coat, and boots barely protecting me from the bite of frost. That wasn't what woke me though. It was the breaking of glass, not one window, but a thousand. Not one gun going off, but a million. There was absolute chaos raging around me, the city, my city, a screaming firestorm. I tucked myself farther into the corner of broken wall that I was nested in, and watched the chaos as my eyes adjusted. The sun wasn't up yet, but the shine of artificial lights was absent, casting all of the shops and streets into a dark haze that was unusual to my keen memory. Those lights had been on. Always. Every night. People were running around in the streets, carrying firearms and torches that glowed with an orange flame. There were sounds of destruction surrounding me, screaming, glass shattering, explosions and the crackling of fire. I had heard these sounds before, one night, as a protest turned violent and riot police poured onto the scene. There were no sirens tonight, though. The comforting wail that came with any emergency was absent, and with it, any hopes of mine that this situation was a coincidence. The chaos wasn't caused by a storm or minor power outage. This lack of electricity was intentional. Eventually, the noises began to subside, as light began to peek over the horizon. By the time the sun was fully risen, there was no one left on the street.

I crept out of my hiding place as many other normal citizens did. People, not dressed in black like the men the night before had been, but in their pajamas and bathrobes, some even with small children clutching their legs. No cars ran because their electric life was gone, and the stillness of the block was eerie. The street was full of beaten down cars, chunks of mortar, and shattered street signs and lights. Some of the busted automobiles were still on fire and threatened to explode. Trails of smoke led to the bright, red sky. Out of the stillness and the silence came a small noise, the turn of the chain and the click of a pedal. A small boy on a bike was riding up the street, dodging the rubble, and throwing sheets of paper out of his bicycle basket. He was dirty and looked scared, not bothering to stop as he pedaled on, flinging flyers. One drifted down near me, landing in a soft pile of ash. It looked like it was typed on an old fashioned typewriter, a seal stamped onto the bottom of it in red ink.

"Your government has burned. Your leaders are dead. We are not terrorists, we are teachers, in the ways of chaos. Any who can fight will join us. Any who can't will be killed. Resist us and face punishment. Anarchy is our way and death is our sword. We will spread our message to the world, and you will be our banner. Run away as a coward and be executed as one. We know all. Join or die," the poster read. At the bottom of it, there was a grisly picture of several animals consuming each other. A lion with a snake in its mouth. An eagle clawing out the lion's eyes. The snake's fangs stabbing into the wings of the eagle. An emblem on each flyer, the red ink resembling blood on the pale white paper. The symbol of the Western Veil Anarchists. I let it fall to the ground. Around me, the mothers were ushering their children inside, their eyes looking warily around the seemingly abandoned street. Others looked into the windows of shops, or clustered in small groups to discuss the new information. Night fell quietly, the lack of electricity leaving a missing part of the city, a hum that was normally in the air, gone.

Meanwhile, I noticed people dressed in black, slowly slinking around corners, creeping out of alleyways. They wore red arm bands, I noticed, with the insignia of the Western Veil. There was a scuffle across the street, where a homeless man was being dragged away, off into a van, that was somehow still running, despite the lack of electricity. Another, the next block down, a homeless woman I knew named Dottie, being carried off from her usual perch in front of the pharmacy. They were taking the homeless. They would come for me. I had to get someplace safe, off the streets. I stood and shook off my sleepy legs, peeking around the corner of my alley, waiting for the right moment to move.

"Going somewhere, love?" I jumped about a foot in the air, the man behind me reaching out and taking hold of my wrist. I struggled against his hold and tried to shake him off. He was tall and dark, dressed all in back and bearing the trademark armband. He had crooked, yellow teeth and halitosis to match. I continued to struggle, and finally my kicking feet connected with his shin and he dropped me with a howl of pain.

I took off down the alley, out into the street, running as swiftly as my legs could carry me, noticing that there were now several men chasing me. I was fast, learning how to run from experience, dodging police and angry citizens, always to run back to my cozy alley. Now, I was fleeing from the closest thing I had to a home, and I had the sinking suspicion that I would not be going back.

I darted through the streets, around broken cars and exploded fire hydrants. No electricity meant no water pressure, so they were done for. The crowd behind me grew, and the chase was on, gunshots following me, a bullet cutting through my thick coat. I had to lose them, and I knew just how to do it. There was a supermarket just up ahead to the left where there was a ladder I could use to get onto the roof and then pull up behind me to effectively cut them off.

I ran into the dark street, far into the back, away from the main road. I noticed the ladder, blown to pieces of warped metal just when it was too late to turn around. I was cornered. The men surrounded me, guns held high, and the only thing that was left to do was to back farther down the alley. I glanced through the dark. Nothing that I could see to use as a weapon.

"C'mon dear. We'll only hurt you a little bit," one of the anarchists called. I didn't respond, my fear was quickly rising, my heart pounding in my chest, my breathing ragged from having to run. There was nowhere left to go. The darkness was coming for me, creeping out of the corners, suffocating, paralyzing. Suddenly, out of the dark next to me, there was a pair of bright green eyes, looking straight at me. Straight through me, jolting me back to reality. His voice was soft and sweet, giving me the courage I needed to continue on. "Don't panic Sunshine. Keep your head down. Let's run."