Chased

Massacre (Old)

What are they thinking? I ask myself, watching people dash around the market. Frantic, hurried people, who seemed to be panicked and terrified. The vendors seemed on edge. They watched me nervously, studying me as if I was about to attack. I tucked myself deeper into my robes for daily life.

For a split second, I glanced down at my chest, making sure that my breasts weren't noticeable. That's the last thing I need now. To blow my cover. I needed to let them think I was a man. If they knew I was a girl, then they could refuse service.

Suddenly, I heard yelling. This caught the attention of the vendor next to me, so I took the opportunity to swipe off a tomato off of his stand. With the tomato in hand, I dashed into the angry crowd.

I hugged my dagger with my palm, expecting someone to jump out at me. This crowd was rowdy. They were angry, and ready to fight. I felt a heavy feeling over my head, telling me that something was definitely about to go down. But the question was, what was putting these people on edge?

I flinched every time someone slammed into me, believing that I was under attack. My instincts put me on edge.

I had long lost the tomato.

"GIVE US OUR LIBERTY!" Someone yelled. I looked up, dagger half out of my sheath. I had traveled in the dead middle of the crowd, in front of a church. People were yelling. Some of them were holding weapons. Nothing too dangerous. Easily avoidable. Items like pitchforks and shovels.

I looked up, trying to see over the heads of the people around me. I couldn't get a good look at the scene, so I decided to glance around, searching for anything that might give me an advantage. A lamp post. A vendor. It didn't really matter at this point.

I saw a stalled wagon. The wagon driver looked mildly annoyed, yelling at the people to get out of his way. The horses were panicking, scared of the crowd that was stirring up a mess. I assumed he wouldn't notice if I climbed it to get a better view.

I advanced to the wagon, pushing pass men and women alike. One person I accidently shoved into a horse. I scaled the wagon fairly easily. Most wagons were made the same so I knew by heart where to put my footing.

Once at the top, I crouched, attempting to prevent gaining attention. In front of me, I saw the massive crowd. They were yelling and screaming like before, angry with the soldiers standing in a long line in front of the church. I shuffled my feet, gaining a better stance.

The soldiers seemed to struggle in keeping the crowd off of their backs. I smirked at their struggles. I knew they were British from their outfits. Redcoats, they called them. The name was fitting. But I also knew that they were trying to take lands from us. I had cut off my ties with my tribe long ago, but I still cared greatly about them, and I wasn't about to leave them to suffer.

My eyes flicked up to the roofs. My right, my left... My left brought upon Connor.

He was staring down at the crowd, staring blankly at a person in particular. I turned my head to follow his blank stare. There were a couple of Redcoats, a few men in robes, and...

Haytham.

His greying black hair was slicked back as always. His grey eyes that held such a resemblance to my own scanned the crowd, unaware of my presence in the area. He seemed content despite the anger brewing around him. People threatening the British. Tomatoes thrown. None of it seemed to affect him. I frowned. Why was that?

For a split second, his eyes glanced over to the roof on my right side.

Got'cha bastard!

I caught it. He tried not to be obvious, but I saw it. My eyes followed his glance, over to the roof on my right. It took me a minute to find him, but when I did, I knew why he was so calm. Standing on the roof with a gun in his hand was Charles Lee. I remember him. He was at the pub when I saw Haytham. He was the one who burned my village to the ground. If I hurried, I could get him.