T H R E E

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The sun looms high in the sky on November 15th, causing a intense heat despite the approaching winter. Clean streets and passing crowds greatly oppose the scene that Five Hargreeves had seen happen only ten days in the future.

Instead of clean streets and open businesses, rubble and dabree had decorated the suburban war-zone. There had been no happily passing people, only victims shrewn across the city and soldiers fighting a useless war as atomic bombs were flown in and dropped. Among the war had been Five's siblings and Ester, but they had been left to the mercy of an apocalypse that Five now had to stop.

A new week, a new apocalypse to stop.

The dark-haired boy could recall Ester's forgiving grin as she saw Hazel pull him away from the fighting. Her scarred, bloody face had seemed at ease in that moment when her eyes had landed upon the boy she hadn't seen for months. Five could almost believe that he saw her lips moving, attempting to convey a message before he would leave them in time again.

"Save us."

With that the Hargreeves Siblings, minus Five obviously, and Ester had been left in that future to die by the dropping of an atomic bomb on Dallas, Texas.

After Hazel had been shot down by the Commission-sent assassins, Five was now on a mission to find the people he, unfortunately, cared for and avoid another end of the world. And as he stands in the alleyway that he had first landed in in Dallas, dark eyes catch purple paint decorating the otherwise empty wall. One name and a crudely drawn umbrella was all Five needed to know as he felt his hope surge.

"Ester."

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With my chin resting upon a closed fist, I listen to some low level person in the gang. The man is short with a weaselly face and a large, round nose that I just can't take seriously. He, like me, is one of the few gang members that stay at the headquarters of the gang. 'Headquarters' is an older warehouse that is riddled with disgusting creatures, both of human and insect variety. There had been more then one time when I had to punch or threaten a man who thought it was funny to make certain comments.

Luckily 'The Boss' had taken a shining to me, which limited people's comments and allowed me to do what I wanted or say.

"So then, I ask him, 'Well then why the hell are we raiding this building?' and he starts ranting about how Communism had infested the building or some shit like that."

I give a noncommittal hum as my eyes trail after a scurrying cockroach, the insect climbing up the grey wall. The conversation of Communism always seems to come up in the sixties and to be honest it is getting super annoying to hear. I know we are in the Cold War, but man just stop.

"How was your meeting with Mr. Ruby last night?"

"How'd you hear about that? It was supposed to be confidential," I look over to the weasel-like man, who is sitting across from me with his head tilted. He glances over his shoulder at the nearly empty warehouse, most inhabitant out doing things for the gang.

"Heard the boss mention it, talkin' 'bout how good of a messenger you are for a kid."

Scoffing, I roll my head and crack my neck to release some pressure. That had been something I kept hearing, and while it had been a compliment the first or second time, now it felt like an expectation, like he was waiting for me to fuck something up so he could get rid of me. Either that or he was trying to brag someone else's achievements.

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