Bwandungi Uses Prompts

Survivor

In the darkness I can literally hear the furniture breathe, rusted springs creaking against the damp stuffing. If I said I wish I didn't have this augment, would you believe me? Especially now when I'm running for my life?

Sometimes the soft whisper of death just before it overwhelms you is more desirable.

I know I can't stay here, I saw the man across the street with things bulging under his coat. We have to go.

Grab my hand... what do you mean you can't run while you're holding someone's hand? I'm faster and I can help pull you along. Now stop whining, and wipe your hand on your jeans before I have to hold it.

Shhhh.

There are five different footsteps outside in the grass, but right now they're not focussed on us. If we slide along this wall and head for the dining room window we can get out.

We can because they're fighting each other for us. Remember that preacher, what was her name? Nansikombi?

Yes, her.

I hate her too, but I remember a time when I thought she spoke the truth. When she said that there was an organization that paid people who donned the Cloak. I think she meant to scare people and stop them from taking up the cause. After all, who knew there was such a thing as a Grim Reaper aside from stupid fairy tales.

Stop quivering, it's not going to help you run. Grab my hand. You ready?

Three more have come through the front door, they'll see us, but it will take them time to position themselves to get a good shot.

Run.

You're slipping. Keep your fingers curled around the calluses.

I know they pinch, but are you saying you'd rather fall behind for the goons to catch up? Those calluses are battle scars and I refuse to be rid of them. Who am I trying to be soft for? Even now when I've been marked for death?

Nansikombi got her mark too, so I doubt she's the person behind the corporation. Don't believe everything you hear. It will turn your brain to porridge.

Around the next corner, there is a school my girlfriend used to attend.

No, I don't have one now, haven't had one in a long time. We'd creep behind some boxes they stashed in the back of the A/V closet.

You're probably right, but I'm getting further away from my old haunts and this section of town isn't familiar. Let's just hide there, catch our breath and see if we can't find a little water to fill these sacs. The one strapped against my thigh is really hot now.

When did you hear about a tattoo artist that could turn this mark into some kind of design? I know they've been creative with the lights and subdermal electronics, but we're talking science fiction here. No one has survived the mark.

The purpose of running and hiding is to live as long as we can. Don't you want to live?

Yes, even like this.

I've survived for seventeen weeks and made it to the top one hundred in this city. Seventeen.

Scootch over, someone will see your butt.

There are more people in this city than we could have imagined. People who have lived through the worst of Fasiya's torment and come through. They bear their scars like honor badges and have a hardness in their eyes that cuts through any bullshit. They're the ones who survive and live to tell tales we cannot imagine.

OK, fine. I don't really know you and your history, but I can see by the fright in your eyes and the softness of the flesh of your hands that you've not known that kind of pain. If you want to survive, kid, stick with me.

They're long gone. We're all fugitives. Stubborn fugitives who refuse to accept that fate is inescapable, so we're going to make our own fate. We may not see those people again, but who knows what the future holds. Maybe we will.