The Reduction

CHAPTER ELEVEN

James

    The flame made by the man finally illuminated his face so that James could see. His face seemed so familiar to James but he was failing to think straight. The man's stare pierced James like a knife and he struggled to gather the courage to reply. The man didn't seem happy about this. The flame went out. Dead silence other than James' heavy breathing.

James strained his eyes to see in the dark as they struggled to adjust. James felt the air move to his right leading him to grab for his pocket knife and swing it in that direction. Before James could make any impact, something caught his wrist rapidly and the sound of a lighter snapped again. A flame so bright and so close to James' face startled him as the man was face to face with him, the only thing separating them is the flame. The man had James' wrist in a grip so tight that he thought it would snap.

"You're too stupid to be a wanderer." The man sneered, his hot breath smacking James' face suggesting that this man hasn't brushed his teeth in months. James didn't have time to think he just reacted as his second pocket knife in his other hand collided with the man's stomach earning a loud groan, causing the man to loosen on James' grip. James turned his wrist and yanked it out of the man's hand and pounced onto his hunched over body. The lighter went out causing the room to go completely dark. Luckily James' eyes had become used to the dark as he could pin down the man's arms as he straddled over him. A dark spot was forming on the man's chest caused by the stab.

"I'm looking for Charles Dean." James finally spoke looking down to the man's face. The man's expression changed as a wave of fear trenched over his body.

"You..." he examined James' face and his breath started to get quicker. Confused, James tightened his grip on the man and got closer to his face.

"I'm looking for Charles Dean. Tell me where he is now or I'll do it again but next time you won't be so lucky." James' eyes never left the man's. His voice became steady and cold just as like switch had been flicked. This wasn't the James that left the community. This was the old James, before the community James. There was no turning back now.

"You... you're James Winters." The man exhaled as tears formed in his eyes.

"I'm only gonna ask one last time. Where's. Charles. Dean." James pressed harder on the man's arms as he paused.

"He's... he's... dead. I thought... they told me... that you... you were dead. Oh, please don't kill me!" The man started to sob and shake beneath James.

"What? How did he die? How do you know who I am? Who told you that I was dead?" James was yelling now, his brain ached from all the new information that he was receiving. The man shut his eyes as he wept.

"TELL ME!" James screamed.

"Okay! Okay! Charles Dean was arrested two weeks ago by one of the patrols when he got caught dealing. They killed him while he resisted the arrest." The man got out between sobs.

"What about me?" James asked again.

"They... they told me that you were dead... the news... they said everyone was safe now... oh lord... keep my kids safe while I'm gone, God... please sir don't kill me! I'll do anything!" The old man stopped resisting and laid there uncontrollably crying.

"Why was the news talking about me?" James pressed out of the man. Why would the news talk about him, he wondered. Why would people be safe with him dead?

The man got interrupted by a siren that sounded outside of the building. Red and blue lights could be seen through the cracks of the wooden boards on the windows.

"Shit!" James murmured as he got off of the bloody man. He darted towards the back of the tattoo shop, leaving the man on the ground in the middle of the entryway. The sirens got closer and the sound of car doors shutting was audible.

James scurried to the back to try and find a back door to the shop. He saw a red light at the end of the hall, marking an exit and he dashed towards the door. His feet pounded the ground as the door opened and shouts from government patrols boomed through the shop.

"Stop! Let me see your hands! You're past curfew!" Could be heard from the front of the shop as James struggled to unlock the door. The patrols didn't know that he was in the back, but they would eventually. James tried pounding the door to open but it wouldn't budge. He pulled with all his might but couldn't get it. The shouts became louder and flashlights could be seen on the wall of the hall that led straight to James. They were coming closer and he needed to move fast. Patrols were allowed to shoot after curfew, with no penalty.

James dug his shoulder into the door and pushed as hard as he could until the door finally gave out. He practically fell out of the room as one of the police shouted behind him.

"Hey!" James was caught and needed to get out of the city as soon as possible. He ran towards the opening of the ally that led to the main road. It wasn't the best plan but he was trapped on the other side and needed to see how far the woods were from the street. As he checked the street sign that read 'Mongolia' he remembered the route to get to the edge of the city and towards the woods. He sprinted off into that direction, not bothering to hide this time. The patrols already knew he was on the loose and he was labeled 'dangerous' according to the man at the shop.

His lungs burned and his feet felt like falling off but he kept pushing on. Running in the middle of the road in the pitch black with sirens all around him, James started to see the edge of the city and the big field that separates him from society and the endless woods ahead.