Beyond City Limits (Under Revisions)

Chapter 16: BREACHING THE SURFACE

"Oh shit," the vulgar word passes my lips, leaving a bad taste in my mouth.

Treason. My nails dig into the chair, biting the worn cushion. This is treason.

I've heard rumors of these rallies in the Innercity, about fanatics gathering in unexpectant holes in the Outercity, planning to destroy the wall and invade the Innercity. I only thought they were stories to scare people from the Outercity, another story amongst other stories of the horrific and savage lifestyle of Outsiders.

ITF Commons Room invades my thoughts, showing the enlarged tablet suspended from the column, the terrified reporter and the mob of Outsiders, and the one shark mask swimming in the sea of bodies.

What if a gang rally was what started that riot at the Middlecity Wall? I can still see the border guards pushing and shoving the Outsiders back into the city. Only now an horrifying vision stains my mind: myself being caught in the fray.

I need to get out of here.

My body sprang from my seat, abandoning the bartender and his tempting words. It's not like I can get any information out of him without any money. But when I find money, I'll come back. In the daylight.

I duck and slither through the audience of eager Outsiders. Their faces are open to the still preaching shark man. I try to block out every word he says. The less I know, the better. By the time I get back to the entrance of the Flotilla, I am confronted with another problem.

Looking out from the patio, there are three or four different roads leading away from the bar. I scratch my mind for the path we took to get here. No memory surfaces. There is no land mark, no crumbled building, no anything that is different from the other roads. It's all the same. The labyrinth stares back at me, daring me to choose.

Rust. He'll help me.

Although my legs scream against it, I dart back into the bar. Unlike before, I comb through the bodies of Outsiders, no longer afraid of touching them if it means I'll find Rust faster. I do spot some familiar faces, but not Rust. Until I see a lanky silhouette standing toward the front of the crowd, near the stage.

"Rust!" I call. I duck my head when a few people glare at me for interrupting the speaker.

I ignore their looks and move closer to the slender man, but before I can see if it's Rust, the man slips away. I push my way after him.

"Wait," I whisper a little quieter. The man pays me no attention.

He disappears in another room on the side of the stage. I follow him inside.

My eyes struggle to adjust to the dark room, but as they do, I realize I must be in a compartment behind the stage. This must be a type of storage room. There are extra chairs and tables, even a locked cabinet, where I can guess the spare alcohol is kept.

"Rust, you in here?" I squint in the darkness, spotting a dark, human shape in the corner.

I reach my hand out and to touch his shoulder. Hands catch mine and squeeze.

"I told you to stay away, Casket. Don't you care about your pretty face?" Vee's sing-song voice makes my heart stop. I try to wrench my hand away from her, but it only makes her hold tighten. Her jagged nails tear through my flesh. I let out a whimper.

Vee laughs at my pathetic whining. Her high chuckling sends heat up my face and rage in my stomach. I give my hand one sharp yack. Vee's cackling loosens her grip, and my hand pulls free. I smile at my little victory.

I backpedal from Vee, keeping my eyes on her. Black eyeliner is smudged around her eyes. Her clothes are black with holes strategically placed to show off her body. Her pale skin is white under her black clothes, giving a sickly shine.