Run The City

Chapter 6

After traversing the alleyway for almost an hour, through the winding paths and passageways, the stranger finally broke the silence between us.

"So," the man said, quite cheerfully given the complete and utter chaos he had just caused, looking back at me. "All this mess and I don't even know your name."

I look back at him in complete disbelief.

"I don't even know you," I stuttered, startled by his openness.

I regained my composure quickly. "I tell very little to people I know well, which are very few and far between as it is. I just met you an hour ago. I am not telling you anything, thank you very much."

He widened his eyes in exaggerated surprise and smirked back at me.

"Trust issues much?"

I glared at him.

He chuckled. "Okay, okay. Whatever. Chill. I'm Anthony."

Should I trust him? It's too early to tell. He was right on some level, trust is difficult for me, and that comes from never knowing who's a spy for the government. It could be that old woman, peddling homemade candles from a worn down cart, or the businessman getting off the rickety train coming in from his workplace. Never make eye contact or speak to people if you know what's best for you.

No matter how innocent someone may look, GMSB'S and spies can come in all forms. The government does not think twice about testing on children and the elderly, no matter what they actually tell the general public. In fact, turning children into GMSB'S is quite popular. Children, because they are so young, have viewpoints that are easily warped and bent. It is much easier to bend children's minds to be cold-blooded killers than adults, who's views and ideals have been cemented. 

But, this man at least seems different. All though I did see him permanently mentally damage two people right in front of me, and I know he could do that to me with very little effort.

How does he do that? I wondered for the first time how it could be possible. He doesn't have the visible modifications of the GMSB's, so that's not possible. But my name? He deserves that at least. He did save my life, and although I wouldn't admit it to this stranger, I'm grateful.

"Tonya."

I glance over at him. He looks at me, his surprisegenuine.

"My name is Tonya."

Then I think I see him smile, but it's gone as soon as it appears. His pace quickens.

"Well, hurry up," he says quickly. "We have a long way till we get to our destination."

I look up at the clouds, threatening to black out the sky, while in contrast the sun burns a fiery ball in the distance.

"Which is?" I inquire.

He doesn't answer.

***

It's nearly nighttime, and we must have been walking for at least several hours, when Anthony suddenly comes to a stop in front of a cracked cement building, many stories tall, like a small scale cement skyscraper, but with rounded off sides and top.

My eyes trace the rigid structure. Spray paint figures grace the base of the building at random angles. The few windows in the building near the base had been broken and the shattered panels covered with a thick black fabric to prevent onlookers from peering in. It looked a little obvious to me, since government enforcers would be looking for something like that, the telltale signs of a resistance hideaway.

My breath hitched in my throat when I saw what was in the distance behind the building. Several large, metal train tracks with colors that were probably once bright, but now had faded significantly. The tracks wove up, down, and twisted around in complex shapes. I took it all in, and tried not to let the wonder and confusion show on my face. It wasn't very often that you saw such tangible evidence of the old world. The government tried so hard to tear it down at opportunities. Out of sight out of mind. If people don't see the reminders of the past, then they won't wonder what they are missing, a world of freedom and individuality.

My efforts to look nonchalant must not have worked, because Anthony looked over at me, smiling faintly.

"These were common before the war. They used to call this place an amusement park. People used to ride those tracks for entertainment. They were called roller coasters ."

I wonder to myself how someone would wish to ride these, given how unstable they look. But I supposed that they used to be a lot safer, back in an era where everything was a whole lot safer.

I wonder what everything used to look like, a vibrant and beautiful world, before humanity's brokenness crept in and destroyed the perfection. What would it have been like to live in a world, where you were safe and happy and certain, and where everyone was one hundred percent equal flesh and blood. I force myself to snap out of it. I can't afford to think like this.

I then notice a particular feature about the building that causes my eyes to widen in alarm.

"Anthony?" I hissed.

"Yes?"

"The building has no doors, at least not visible ones. How are we supposed to get to wherever in God's name we are going?"

"I'm glad you asked."

He walked around to the back of the building. I notice what seems like a rickety metal fire escape, tucked into a ledge in the side of the structure, like the kind that can be extended to reach the ground. The ladder hugged the side of the building, extending all the way to the top and over it.

I just now realized, despite how perceptive I usually tend to be, that Anthony is wearing sturdy black boots with thick laces, despite his formal attire, instead of dress shoes.

My adrenaline raced and I try to subdue my fear of heights and convince myself it will be just like anything else I've climbed. I take a deep breath to steady my nerves.

Anthony extended the ladder and began to climb to the top of the rounded structure, and I followed him, uncertain.