The last to go

3

The whole migration of the city had been a mess right from the start. Panic flooded the streets. Everyone tried to save themselves and their families. Large speakers hovered over the streets, commanding all citizens to move towards the helicarriers. The soldiers were told to calm them down and direct them on the vehicles. The civilians trampled one another in their rush to safety.  Kyra got dragged along and quickly felt like she was running out of air. People pushed at her, demanding that she would move faster. She stumbled more than she walked. Others wondered why the soldiers weren't carrying the citizens as they clutched their jewels to their chests. Kyra rose to her full height and swiped an angry Sealus aside. The grey skinned creature slunk in between the running bodies, it's boneless body moving fluidly over the stone floor. Kyra used her arms as a battering ram and stormed out of the crowd. She pressed herself to a wall and let them pass instead. She took smalls steps sideways to keep an eye on the crowd and to stay in the shadow of the houses. 

Just as she managed to get away from the worst of it, a woman shouted for her help, eye on the shimmering of the badge Kyra wore on her chest. She was across the street. The road had widened up here and most of the crowd had already dispersed and filed into other lanes where helicarriers were waiting. Kyra didn't feel like moving and spending more energy but she had to. She crossed the street, glaring at everyone who tried to push her away. When she reached the park, the woman grabbed her arm and yelled something in her native tongue. Yanking her arm free, Kyra followed her pointed claw to the problem.

It was a boy stuck behind the barbed wire surrounding a fancy park. The wire was to replace the laser beams in case of a loss of power. The richest closed off their share of the city with brutal means. The kid must have found an opening in the chaos and decided to use it to slip into the one place he was never allowed. Kyra couldn't blame him as she looked over the fence. The park had hovercrafts, swimming pools, floating bubbles and a vending machine that sold dried Gucha berries. The sweet berry was loved among children and was reasonably cheap.

Kyra assessed the situation, squinting in the blinding sun. The sharp pins glinted in the light.The wire was too high for her to lift the boy, not to mention that she was incapable of straightening her back with all the pain. The ground was paved so she couldn't dig a hole underneath the fence. Left with no choice, Kyra cut the wire with her standard-issue lasers. After making a gap, she pushed it further open and pulled the kid out with her other hand. Blood started to gush out of the wound on her belly. The tip of the machete made its way further in her torso. Kyra couldn't breathe.

Someone pushed against her from behind, the mother was shouting in her ear and the boy kept squirming to get away from the pins. The same, large pins tore her thin uniform apart and cut in her skin. By the time she had the kid out, her left arm was reduced to a bleeding lump of flesh. The suns burned in her eyes. The boy disappeared in the crowd just as fast as he had appeared. The woman was nowhere to be found.

Cradling her wounded arm, bend over from the pain in her stomach, Kyra stumbled ahead. The current of civilians dragged her along. She called for order and physically forced some to walk in a line. They didn't listen until she let her Vescal heritage shine through. In combination with the blood on her clothes, her feverish eyes and imposing physique she looked like a nightmare. The ones who were unaffected were convinced with an introduction to her laser gun.

Vescals were warriors by nature and had natural marks around their eyes and nose. Their skin resembled the blue opals retrieved from a small planet in the Milky Way. The marks were a deep red, shimmering even without natural light. Vescals were divided in various clans spread over the desert of their red planet. Each clan had their own crest and flag which they tattooed on their bodies. Kyra had intertwined trees and roses on her arms. Her mother only had roses with thorns and her tattoos reached up to her shoulders.

Kyra's mother was a Vescal who fell in love with a sweet Baldor, a race of pacifists who had become one with nature. Some even grew plants on their bodies. Baldors had a gray hue to their skin, a factor that had made Kyra's blue skin dull, and deep green eyes. Kyra had inherited a bit of both, as her parents used to say. Her personality was much like her mother but her curiosity was from her father. She could never leave something unchecked.

When she finally reached a carrier with an empty spot, she noted a family of gray Land Cats in a corner, tucked underneath a broken box. The mother hovered above them as the kittens squeaked and squirmed. The mother noticed her looking and turned her big orange eyes to Kyra. The fur around the neck was matted with black blood. It hadn't taken her that long to decide.

The mother didn't hiss or claw at her when the tall soldier neared them, as if she understood. Kyra fell on her knees, wincing at the jolt. She bundled the family in her useless vest and dragged them on board of the small heli-carrier with its twelve, back-to-back chairs and no roof. The young ones mewled and clawed at her fingers, harmlessly. They were warm, their blue tongues lapping at the blood on her fingers.

The man next to them stared at her with bulging eyes. He was sweating and had the telltale signs of hysteria on his face. He mumbled to himself, his four hands busy picking at the belts of his chair. She ignored him, petted the mother cat and turned away. The carrier started to move when she was only a few steps away. The engine whined and it flew up. Kyra swallowed passed the lump in her throat and tasted blood. Tears stung in her eyes. Reality came crashing down on her.

It was pointless, she told herself, grinding her teeth to stop herself from running after the carrier. Kyra's shirt was soaked in sweat from the effort of moving, the bleeding had not stopped and there was no way she would receive medical attention first, if at all. A throaty chuckle bubbled up but she quickly regretted it as she doubled over in pain. She spat blood on the ground and grimaced. The bloody glob dripped in between two stones. It was too late for her.