No More Humans

Chapter 3: Another Day

Swinge woke up with the sun. The streets weren't crowded yet. So he went outside, and bought a cheap meal as breakfast.

Then, he looked into his pocket: one Chip left.

"Great", Swinge thought.

He had to earn some Chips. What should it be? Definitely no contest, because a big event was crowding the streets. Which meant a lot of guards outside the perimeter. So no sneaking out either.

Well, it should be very easy to steal something in the crowd.

So he went to the market and pickpocketed some people. During his first months on the streets, it was very risky for him to try and steal, because he lacked experience. But not skill. He was a natural. When he was done, he had enough money for his dinner. But as he slipped his hand in a last pocket and grabbed some Chips, a powerful grip settled upon his arm.

"Oh shit!" he thought.

He looked up to see a tall and muscular man with an eyepatch. He pulled his arm back with force and kicked the man's groin, before headbutting his victim, who had already turned around. And then he ran...

He knew most sidealleys and chose one in his vicinity as his escape route. He vaulted over a low fence, before climbing a higher wall. He turned around just in time to see and dodge a knife threw by the eyepatched man.

He jumped down on the other side of the wall and he thought he was free. But his previous victim was there. With his fist clenched. But he was short and slim, and not very dangerous by the looks of it.

Swinge knew that being caught meant death, so he let his instincts take over. He rolled under the man's punch and kicked his ankle, stunning him. The boy grabbed a metal pipe from the nearby wall and tore it out with all of his strenght, using it to hit the back of the guy's head. Knocking him out cold.

He dropped the pipe and ran as far away from the crowded streets as possible.

He was in the old industrial district, close to the perimeter wall. After the first earthquakes, the affected cities were rebuilt, changed nearly beyond recognition. San Francisco was one of them.

Swinge was trying to catch his breath after running a long way. But at least he was safe. No one could harm him. He had a moment of peace. Just a moment...Before a loud explosion shook him to his bones. He could hear people screaming for maybe a mile away, and the military shouting orders and trying to calm the civilians. The place of the explosion wasn't far from him. It was a few hundred meters away from the perimeter wall...outside the Safe Zone, of course. He had to avoid being seen by the guards at all costs. He saw a sewer entrance a few meters away from him. It looked abandoned, and it was his best bet to get outside.

So he bent down and grabbed the rusty handlebars and pulled them with all of his strenght. With a lot of effort, he finally removed the manhole cover. Then, the boy descended into the sewers by an old and nearly rusty ladder, which made a breaking sound each time he stepped. After a terrifiyng "trip" on that damned ladder, he touched the ground. Sadly, the mudy water's level was as high as his waist. Swinge kept going, disgusted by that brownish-green water, which smelled worse than anything he had encountered in his life. After a few hundred feet, the teenager finally reached the end of the "corridor": another ladder. After five agonizing minutes, he was on the surface again.

The smoke could be seen from his position, so Swige started running towards it, knowing he might have five minutes left before the military shows up.

When he reached the wreck, he could see that was a military truck. Before he could look for any supplies he might use or need, a voice sounded from behind:

"YOU'RE FUCKING DEAD, KID!"

Swinge looked behind him terrified: a forty-something man was standing in front of him with a crazed look on his face and an old crowbar in his right hand. In an instant, Swinge's hand flew in his pocket, trying with desperation to get a hold of his switchblade. Only when it was too late he realised with horror that the had forgot it in his room when he left this morning.

He knew this was his end. A very brutal and straight-forward end to what could have been a beautiful and adventurous life. All his struggle up to that point would have been for nothing. He was going to be beaten to death with a rusty crowbar by a madman, and for what? Because of his curiosity? Well, it seems that in the end it got the better of him. But he wasn't going to just stand and watch. He'll embrace death with a victorious look on his face. He clenched his fists, raised his head and locked sights with his killer...