Perception

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen

If it happens, it must be possible.

Unknown

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   Never feed strays, never feed strays, never feed strays, never feed strays, never feed str-

    The rule kept playing over and over in my head like a mantra all the way from the bus stop to Richmond Park before dissolved like a puff of smoke when I passed though the gates. People, hundreds of them, were all milling around the edges of the camp, jockeying for position. They looked to span a wide range of ethnic diversions and age groups from the very young to the ancient. I could count three families just from where I stood. Judging by the way several men off to one side were nursing various body parts, at least one fight had already broken out.

   I hated new arrivals and it was always worse when they arrived in mass. It took longer for some to adapt to the camp rules than others and each new testosterone-fueled batch of new comers brought on their own power struggle. The new testing the strength of the old, and someone always seemed to want the top job. I suppose some thought it would be a good way to dominate others while getting out of the work. This was a bit redundant considering Dicksonville wasn’t a dictatorship; we listen and followed Abraham because we chose to. He was wise and tolerant but will not take shit from anybody. He was one of the very few people and even fewer men I actually liked and respected.

    Once, three man, brothers I think, surprised Abraham one night after returning from the toilets and beat him to a bloody pulp. They carried him to camp and pronounced themselves the new leaders, dumping his body by the light of a barrel fire. The gasp of shock was audible and no doubt they thought it was over.

    The first stone thrown grazed the cheek of the blonde one. He swiped his hand against the wound then stared incredulously as the firelight danced across his blood-covered fingers. The next landed on the short one’s shoulder while a third narrowly missed the last’s forehead. A heavy rain of objects from rocks to cooking pans soon followed and the men ran out of camp, swearing revenge.

   Returning the next day with four extra men, each armed with a metal baseball bat, they did not expect our own reinforcements. Troye, Harris, Brooklyn and a few others of Roman's enforcers were waiting for them. Rumor has it, one of them has actually regained the use of his legs.

   Power struggles were always so tedious but unfortunately inevitable. 

   At the camp boarder I turn my two annoying shadows ordering, “If you have any hope of keeping your food, go sit behind a bush somewhere and eat fast. When your done, if you’re planning to stay, go talk to a man called Abraham or a woman named Laura. Do not come looking for me. You are not allowed to share my tent. Or my food. Or my life.”

     They took off quickly while I strode confidently into camp, heading straight to our tent. A few of the hungry begged for some food, the most ambitious made a grab for a plate. A strategically placed kick however changed his mind. After that, the new arrivals gave me a wide berth.

   “What’s with the population spike?” I called to Petra over the noise as I neared the tent.

    Leaning against the metal structure, she just shrugged, watching the rising flood of forgotten humanity, and sighed. “You can thank Carl Annus MP for that.”

   Further down the line, someone broke away from the crowd, making a dash towards us. Raising the plates high, I stuck out my foot and watched him slide face first along the mud.

   Petra moved to open the fence. “We had better get inside.”

   Nodding, I entered the tent and set down the plates while she locked us in. “Yeah, I saw a head line on the bus: Premier Annus announces the creation of five hundred new jobs. Happy sweet sixteen.”