Orb

Chapter Two

        ORB

  Brian Wynne

  Chapter Two

     As soon as the orb changed color, everything about the city seemed to change. The silent atmosphere vanished, as screams of fear split through the air. The people were jolted into action by the red light, which seemed to act as an alarm. There was a mad rush as they started running, frantically trying to get to safety. Judging by the amount of panic I saw, this was not a common occurrence. I stood shock still, with nowhere to go. Over all the noise I heard a small child cry out. I turned, looking for the source of the sound. Across the street was the boy from earlier. He was on the ground, curled up into a ball. He was being overlooked by the crowd, and they ran right over him. His crying was not heard, and no one was doing anything to help him.

     I slid the knife back into my jacket and started towards him. I scrambled forward while getting pushed and shoved around by the crazed mob. I forced myself through the stream of bodies to where the boy lay. I scooped him up, cradling him in my arms. But he was heavier than I thought, and I staggered under the weight. I could hear him whimpering softly as I held him close. I trudged along, trying to find a place to stop. But before I could, I tripped over something large of the ground. I lost my balance, and after another push from behind, I fell flat on my stomach. I threw my arms up to prevent my face from being trampled, but that didn't stop the vicious kicks dealt to the rest of my body.

     I felt my body giving up, slipping away from consciousness, into darkness. I welcomed the silence, the lack of pain. All feelings were gone, but it was better this way. There was nothing to worry about here, everything was peaceful. Until I heard a voice calling me, a hand pulling my wrist. I opened my eyes and saw the boy by my side. His face was bruised and swollen, and his large eyes stared at me. I watched as his mouth moved slowly, pleading with me to get up. But I didn't want to move, I wanted to stay here. Getting up meant trying again, and I was done trying. I closed my eyes again, hoping to go away, wanting to never come back to reality again.

     I tried to ignore the boy, but his constant crying filled me with guilt. I slowly pushed myself up, and stared back into his wide, fearful eyes. "Please," he begged, "Help me." I pulled him into a painful, one armed embrace, and whispered, "I'll do what I can." The sea of feet seemed to be thinning out as people found refuge in their homes. But as there were still many surging through the street, I didn’t want to stay here any longer. I started crawling to the side of the road, hoping it would be safe. I pulled the boy along behind me, dragging him because he had no strength to move himself.

     After a few minutes, I could hardly move. I was exhausted, though almost all the way to the edge. Straining to get myself and him there was beginning to take its toll. I stopped for a second to catch my breath, when I had a thought. If I left the boy, it would be much easier for me. Why had I even taken him with me in the first place? But as I looked at him again, I knew why hadn’t left him. It was because he, an innocent child, was being hurt because of me, of what I had started. And I couldn’t let him suffer even more. My instinct had told me to save him, so that’s what I had done. I would keep him with me, until he was not in danger anymore.

     I hurriedly pushed forward, wanting to get there as fast as possible. As soon as I reached the side, I hauled the boy up next to me. I then leaned back against the smooth surface of the wall. I closed my eyes, trying to breathe deeply. My lungs were burning and I started coughing. What was wrong with me? I was drained of energy, and just wanted to rest. But I fought the urge to sleep, and got up stiffly. I looked first to the boy, who was still lying where I had left him.

     He looked terrible, and I wondered for a second if he was still alive. But after feeling his pulse, I determined that although extremely injured, he was still hanging onto life. His nose bled, mixing with the tears from his tightly closed eyes. His body had numerous bruises, and his clothes were covered in dust and dirt. He shook violently, while sobbing quietly. I leaned over him, brushing a tear off his cheek. “It’s going to be ok,” I said. He opened his eyes, and looked me over carefully. He shook his head, and closed them again. Pained from his rejection I looked up, away from him. I scanned the road, which was now empty.

      I looked back to where I had fallen, and gasped at what I saw. I put my head down, not wanting to believe it. Maybe I hadn’t seen anything, it was just my imagination. But as I looked up again, my fears were confirmed. Slumped in a mound, was what I had tripped over. It was a woman, crushed by too many pounding limbs. She was dead, I could tell from where I stood. Her eyes left open, staring blankly into space. I looked back to the boy, and realized that this could have been him, if I hadn’t stepped in.

     He was gazing at me again, and spoke to me in a weak voice. “You should go, you know. Before they get here.” “Before who gets here?” I asked. “The people who protect us. They will take you away,” he said.  “I’m not leaving you,” I told him. “Not on the street, not like this.” “It doesn’t matter, I don’t matter,” he said quickly. “Just go, I’ll be fine.” I hesitated, looking at him. He was just a small fragile child, who needed care and attention immediately. And I wasn’t about to keep that from him.

     “I’m taking you with me,” I said firmly. “And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.” “No,” he cried, “I’ll just slow you down.” “It will be fine,” I insisted. “I can carry you on my back.” “You won’t be able to run fast enough, they’ll catch you,” he said. “I’ll make it work,” I said as I bent over to pick him up. “Stop,” he said fiercely. “You don’t understand. If they find me with you, I will be punished as well. I know because my parents tried to help an outsider like you once. They are gone now, I never saw them again. Please go now, before it’s too late.”

     I saw the pain in his eyes, and knew he spoke the truth. I stood slowly, not happy about separating, but I knew it was for the best. “Goodbye, stay strong,” I said sorrowfully, as the only bond I made here was being broken. “Be safe,” he said. “And thank you, for saving me.” I nodded, and turned around. I was about to take off, when I heard something behind me.  It sounded like a door sliding open, and snapping back into place. But before I could move, a strong arm grabbed me forcefully around the waist, and a gloved hand covered my mouth.

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