The house is completely silent. A late night meeting leaves Advisor Lemaire detained, and Avery alone. Avery sits in her window seat, engrossed in a fantasy novel. Coming to the end of a chapter, she places a worn, red, leather bookmark in between the pages. She glances out the window, her mind concocting frightening possibilities of what might linger in the darkness. Nervously, she twists her silver ring around her finger as she looks into the oblivion of the night. Satisfied that there is no immediate threat, she pulls closed the cream-colored curtains and shuts off the lights. Exhausted she falls into bed, almost immediately going into a dreamless sleep.
"I have a bad feeling about this," Caleb whispers as a group of about twenty people in masks approach the wall surrounding Advisor Jenkins' house. Idris rolls her eyes.
"Get out of here," Aaron replies.
"I can't leave you guys."
"Take this then," says Rosaline, thrusting a crowbar into his hand.
"I'm not damaging someone's property." Caleb hands the crowbar back.
"You can stay out in the street and watch to see if anyone's coming," Aaron responds.
"Fine," Caleb agrees.
"I'll stay with him," Jason adds, in his gentle voice.
"What should we use to signal you guys?" Caleb asks.
"This," replies Aaron, handing him a flashlight. "Shine it on the mansion's wall."
"We have arrived," states Ethan, the leader of this particular branch of the ragtag group of self-proclaimed "revolutionaries". "The advisors are gone for the night because of a meeting. We should have at least half an hour, Legion soldiers being preoccupied with protecting the capitol building."
Rosaline pushes to the front of the crowd. "Enough talk, let's start." She starts to climb the gate, the decorative curls of metal supporting her easily. One-by-one every single person but Aaron, Idris, Caleb, and Jason is left on the street.
"Stay safe," Jason whispers.
"Same goes for you kid," Aaron replies. "And you," he adds, turning to Caleb. "After you," he states, addressing Idris, gesturing to the gate. Idris reaches the gate and immediately begins to climb. Within a blink of an eye she has scaled the gate and has jumped the fifteen-foot drop to the ground. She lands with her knees bent, causing no damage, and she moves out of the way for Aaron, who is by her side within a minute.
"Let's go." The first words Idris has spoken all day. The sounds of glass shattering mixed with shouts combines into a cacophony of destruction. Possessions are either taken or broken. Idris climbs the staircase opens the door to the study. On a finely-polished mahogany desk sits a golden fob watch and several file folders. Her eyes hungrily run over the volumes of books on a shelf parallel to a desk. The pocketwatch alone could pay for food for months, maybe even a year. Before she considers any other scenario, Idris pockets the watch and for good measure, tips over the desk. Papers drift gracefully to the floor, she glances at them carefully, weighing their importance. Finding none, Idris exits the room.
Hours later, Idris is back in her apartment. She takes the watch out of her jacket, and holds it up to the candle's dim flame. It gleams hypnotizingly. Carefully, she opens the bottom drawer of her dresser and places it on top of a sketchbook with a beaten cardboard cover. Idris shuts the dresser and lays down on top of her covers, knowing that she will be awake for hours.
YOU ARE READING
Outcasts
Science Fiction"In the twenty second century civilization has crumbled from war. From the ashes rose a new society of the survivors, but it is worse than ever before." Idris Summers, a truculent nineteen year-old, is part of the lowest class of society, which is g...
