Knowing Anonymous

Something about masks

I stared at the tall masked stranger in front of me.
"You know me?" I asked.
"Yes Tara, we've been keeping an eye on you for awhile." Before I could ask what that meant, I heard a round of bangs go off, and it seemed like they were getting closer. He grabbed my arm and lifted me off of the ground.
"Wait a minute-" I looked at the mask logo on his chest.
"We don't have time for this right now- run!"

He reached for my hand and I accepted, and we were off.
"THOSE AREN'T RUBBER BULLETS, ARE THEY?" I yelled through heavy breaths, the gunfire and bangs were getting louder.
He turned towards me and nodded. "We're not the ones getting violent!" Suddenly I realized something, actually two somethings;
"YOU'RE THE GUY FROM THE NEWS!" We rounded a corner and I looked to my right, there was another line of cops, but their backs were turned to us, at least for now, we went left. "The child-hitter!"
"Yeah they really twisted that one." He leaned down to whisper back. I couldn't tell if he was amused back or very very pissed, the mask really got in the way of emoting.
I glanced back at the line of police, they were walking away towards the crowd, I realized with horror that the protestors were now blocked from all sides. The street that the police had passed was covered in bricks and broken glass, with alarms going off in nearly every shop. It was like a scene from a zombie movie
"We have to do something" I looked up at him, terrified. "They'll all get shot!"
He shook his head. "They won't kill many of them, their goal is to just kill enough to scare. The rest will just get arrested and a little beat up."
"Oh my god." I could hear screams coming from the crowd, even though we were a decent distance away.
"We can't do anything right now Tara, we're not armed and it'd be 2 against a couple hundred."
  He pulled me into an empty coffee shop and took off of his mask. I flinched at the sight, and them immediately felt guilty.
Don't get me wrong, he was handsome, he had starry hazel eyes, curly black hair, thick brows, and clear dark brown skin— except for where there were two scars. One was just a small line that curved under his left eye, but the other was on his right side, and stretched from the middle of his eye to the side of his head, both sides had been shaved so that it could be clearly seen.
He didn't seem to notice-or care-that I was taken aback, he just sat down on the counter next to the cash register.
I decided to mimic him and took off my bandana, I realized my goggles were still in my pocket-those sure would've been useful an hour ago.
"I guess I have a lot to explain...." He started, but I couldn't hear the rest. Everything felt terrifyingly quiet.
I desperately reached for my phones. No calls, no texts, nothing. I tried calling but got no answer.
"Oh my God." I looked up at him. "Dylan."

  Tall mask guy told me to stay put. "I'll scan the crowd. You're not dressed for going back out there."
  "How will you recognize him?"
  He paused for a second, like that hadn't even crossed his mind. This guy can't be one of the geniuses behind Anonymous. "Like I said Tara, we've been keeping an eye on you."
I sat hidden behind the counter, feeling extremely useless and creeped out. Whatever-his-name was probably right, I wasn't wearing a bullet proof outfit and a tear gas mask like he was. But I was also the reason Dylan got stuck in this in the first place. I peaked over the counter; this shop's windows had yet to be broken, and the streets were clear.
I crawled to the back room behind the counter, looking for anything useful. I scanned over the coffee grinders and espresso machine and my eyes settled on what I hoped was a relatively sturdy baking sheet. I grabbed it and rummaged through the drawers for a knife.
  I took a deep breath and reached into my pocket... I knew what I had to do.

I know I said I knew what I had to do, but I really had no earthly idea how to do that. I followed the noise, the banging had considerably died down, thank goodness, but there were still sirens and lights off in the distance. The closer I got the surer I was- I had no idea what I was doing. I probably was being an idiot, and I probably should've listened to tall guy, but seeing as I just met him and he may be my stalker, I didn't feel like leaving Dylan in his hands.
I pressed myself up against a line of brick buildings as I neared the noise. It probably wouldn't be wise to charge right in and demand to see Dylan, even if I was pretty threatening with my goggles, baking sheet, and knife tucked into my belt. My heart was racing as I tried my best to discreetly peer over towards the crowd.
Luckily for me, the crowd was concentrated and looking in the opposite direction of me, and also- they weren't cops, or national guards. They were reporters.
It seemed so peaceful compared to the chaos that had ensued when the police were there, it took me a second to notice what made it feel so off and every.
  There were ambulances lined up behind the reporters, a group of paramedics was carrying a small body into one of their vehicles. Some of them had cameras filming, but most of the cameras were pointed at the stores, which had expletives spray painted all over them. A group of the most average looking men I've ever seen wore bandanas like mine, and were throwing bricks at the windows. 
  The weirdest part though was the reporters and camera crew. There was no security between them and the men reeking havoc, but they seemed pretty bored. One lady was lounged back in a fold-out chair with her feet propped on top of a cooler. She held a cigarette in one hand and a phone in the other, she seemed way more interested in an app than the rioters.
  "Marissa, you're on!" A man yelled. I jumped, his voice felt a little too close for my liking.
  The woman lounging sighed heavily but got up from her chair and walked in front of a camera. A scrawny girl ran up and dabbed at her lips with something.
The man behind the camera counted down. "3..2.."
She flickered on like a light and flashed a bright smile at the camera.
"Hello, America" Her voice was grossly sweet in front of the broken streets. When she was all perked up, I realized I'd seen her before on my TV screen. She'd reported about Anonymous, and the bruised children.
"It seems the 'legion' strikes again. Protests that began as peaceful were quickly escalated when Anonymous-sympathizers appeared on scene in full riot gear, attacking police and the public."

Liar. I wanted to pop out from behind the wall and deck her on camera. I wondered if this was really live.

She shook her head sadly, "While firing at police, the rioters killed and severely injured several bystanders. The confirmed number of deaths is 5 and counting." She held her hand up and paused, appearing to gather herself. "New Yorkers, Americans.... are these protests getting you the future you dreamed of?"

So, I realized, that explains a lot. I thought back to the story saying Anonymous had been the one that injured the kids. I was shocked they hadn't set an animal shelter on fire yet to frame Anonymous as animal abusers.

It took everything in me to not fling myself at her, I made a mental note to punch her at some point, but right now I needed to find out where Dylan would be. I couldn't see past the ambulances.

  I turned around to try and head back, but my head bumped into the black chest plate of a riot suit. Tall guy had found me.
I could feel his anger from beneath the mask.
"You shouldn't be here Tara." He whispered as he pulled me away.
"I have to look for him." It was hard to make eye contact, but I tried to stare him down. "I'm not doing anything until I find him."
"Tara." He lifted his mask up for a second, he looked sorry for me. "I've looked everywhere. He's not here."