When The Clock Strikes Twelve

Chapter 2

An hour later, a new panic began to set in. Once she had lost the officers chasing after her, she had wandered the empty streets numbly, trying not to think. But the streets wouldn't be empty for long. All of the able bodied adults would soon be flooding the streets, signaling the end of the workday. Being seventeen, Zaria still had a year before she would have to join the workforce. She spent her days watching younger children while their parents were off at work. It didn't pay much, but she enjoyed taking care of them. Not that she had done a great job taking care of Anaya tonight. Zaria flinched and pushed the thought away.

On her wrist, her watch ticked. She glanced down at it. 6:32. She had to figure out what to do, and fast. She doubted that she would blend in with her blood-stained undershirt and trembling hands. So that begged the question

Where to go?

She couldn't go back to her house-the police would no doubt look for her there. She couldn't stay on the streets. Even if she managed to make it to nightfall without being reported, the curfew guard would catch her and arrest her. There was really only one option. She had to flee the city. Move to another city. Lay low until her eighteenth birthday. Then give a fake name and join the massive workforce, toiling everyday from morning to night.

She would have to make a new life.

Leave everything behind.

Or...

She'd heard the rumors...

A rebellion. A rebellion that lived in the outskirts of the city, in the vast warehouses. A rebellion that opposed the queen. And her police. The police that had shot Anaya. Zaria thought about it a little more. She checked her watch. 6:39. She needed to leave the city now, or face jail. She had no option. She would go looking for the rebellion.

~

It took her 14 minutes to reach the city limits. The only thing left to do now was to walk out. Except, there was a slight problem. The towering wall in the way. The wall was too smooth for her to hope to climb it. Even if she had managed to get to the top, she wouldn't be able to get down without breaking both legs. The only possible way out of the city was one of the gates, the gates that happened to be patrolled by 3 armed police. They were mostly to keep people or animals out, but she doubted they would just let her waltz out in the state she was in. Zaria looked at her watch. A minute had passed. She had only 6 minutes to figure out a way to sneak past the guards. No pressure.

Suddenly an idea came to her. It was a simple plan, but it could work. Crouching, she scouted the ground around her for something to throw: a branch, or a large rock. Finally, she found a rock slightly bigger than her fist. She gripped it tightly, carefully stalking toward the gate as silently as she could. When she was the closest she could get without being seen, she drew her arm back and threw the rock straight at the police car. It sailed through the air beautifully, leaving a nasty dent on the side of the vehicle. Zaria grinned. There was a shout and the police ran to the truck, their guns raised. While they were distracted, Zaria dashed forward and, clinging to the outside of the wall, snuck out of the city.

Using the wall as her guide, she ran until the police were far behind her. She stopped for a moment to catch her breath, then searched the darkening landscape until she saw the dirt road that led out of the city and into the barren plains that held the warehouses. She could see them looming in the distance, dark grey against the reds and oranges of the setting sun. Normally, the road was only used by trucks transporting goods to and from the warehouses, but Zaria could follow it to the rebellion.

The rebellion that probably doesn't even exist a snarky voice in her mind reminded her.

Zaria brushed aside the voice and started walking, but the voice was still in the corner of her mind. If there really was an entire rebellion hidden in the warehouses, they would have been found by now. the voice pointed out. You have no hope. You're going to die out here, looking for a phantom rebellion. Zaria clenched her fists angrily, trying to ignore the voice, but it persisted annoyingly. Soon, the darkness fell completely as the sun slipped fully behind the horizon. Zaria felt the cold wrap around her, her undershirt and skirt doing nothing to protect her against it. Zaria forged on, trying to ignore the bite of the cold. What seemed like an eternity later, the road ended and Zaria found herself staring at the large doors of a warehouse.