3- On The Streets

Aster wakes up to the sound of a motorcycle roaring by. Inching backwards she curses at her own stupidity. She is still exposed to the street. If the bike was going just a little slower the Enforcer would have seen her. Has she learned nothing from Luca’s abduction? Myriad would stop at nothing to stay on top, even if it meant taking citizens who had done nothing wrong to serve his whims.

Aster pulls herself further into the doorway, groaning softly as she eases herself up from the cracked concrete. She sits in silence for what feels like an eternity, listening intently to the eerie silence of Frey. When she is certain the bike is gone she stands, making her way deeper into the heart of the city.

She doesn’t know where she’s going. Hell, she doesn’t even know where she is. It’s easy to get lost in this labyrinth of concrete. Frey was a thriving city at one point, though that was far before Aster’s time. Now it is just a carcass… a memory of what once was.

The crumbling skyscrapers around Aster were left vacant when Myriad seized power. Those who used to occupy these buildings rushed to escape, trying to bring their families to a territory outside Myriad’s reign. Most were killed for their efforts.

That was before Myriad used his powers to build the barricade. Hundreds of feet tall, made of a dark metal too slick to climb. It appeared one night, built from Myriad’s bare hands.

Aster wonders, not for the first time, why Myriad could wield every power without any weaknesses. How could someone so cruel be blessed with such strength?

Those who tried to climb the wall were slain by Enforcement. Projections of their mutilated faces were cast upon billboards throughout the city, a constant reminder of the price to be paid for defiance.

As Aster rounds a corner something plummets from above. She throws herself to the side, fearing drone surveillance, but instead a metal panel strikes the ground by her feet. Gingerly she stands, flipping the thin piece of aluminum over with a hesitant foot. Tarnished words glint in the morning sunlight.

Maple St.

Aster chuckles to herself and carefully prods her forearm where it had struck the ground. Nothing was broken, but she would have a nasty rugburn tomorrow.

She is surprised to see the street sign. Myriad had torn down almost every sign in the city, particularly those with names on them, lest they suggest someone else was in power before he took the throne.

Though she supposes it doesn’t matter much, the street name surprises Aster. According to old maps of the city Maple street was miles away from Gentlemen headquarters. Had she really walked so far last night?

She feels a faint drumming at her side and looks down, watching her hand tremble furiously. Fear. The shaking had gotten better after her father’s death. She had almost forgotten what it felt like but here, alone on the streets, she is more scared than she has been in a long time.

Aster curses under her breath. Luca has been gone for less than a day, and already she is letting her emotions get the best of her.

Suddenly, she feels eyes on the back of her head. She pivots, raising her pistol, and swears she sees something duck around the corner behind her. A moment later a rat scuttles out from the fading brickwork, dashing across the street in a panicked frenzy.

Aster lets out the breath she has been holding, easing her fingers away from the pistol at her side. No wonder she had lost the title. Here she is, flinching at the sound of rats. She turns away, fingers tightening to fists at her side.

Picking through the ruins of the city Aster scans the alleyways for one without broken glass, hand tap-tap-tapping all the while. She stumbles into one, heart in her throat, and sets her backpack aside, the need to move pulsing at the back of her mind.

With a practiced breath she drops to the floor, trying to loose herself in the familiar motions of exertion. Somewhere between her 10th set of pushups she becomes dimly aware that her hands have stopped shaking, and breathes a sigh of relief.

Luca always gives her a hard time about her way of coping, but he never seems to understand how training seems to be the only way to quiet her frantic mind. Aster pauses, a wave of grief crashing over her at the thought of Luca’s name.

She takes a sharp breath. It doesn’t make sense to keep referring to him in the present tense. Anyone taken to The Keep was as good as dead.

Sucking air between her clenched teeth Aster begins to train with a new vigor, desperate to feel numb. At least you can’t cry when you’re numb.

Hook-uppercut-kick. She repeats the motions until she cannot think of anything but the burning anger in the pit of her stomach. Partially at Fallon, for stealing her title, but more so at Myriad, for condemning her to this life. Aster is relieved. Anger is an easy emotion. One she can use. Nothing like the debilitating guilt and fear lurking at the corners of her vision.

Slinging her bag over a shoulder she returns to the street. She must find someplace more permanent to sleep. Camping in old doorways would only lead to discovery by the Enforcers.

As she walks a small voice screams from the back of her mind. How long can this possibly last? What are you doing? She had seen what living on the streets had done to Oscar. Was she really going to subject herself to the same fate? Squeezing her eyes closed she tries to force the voice away, but it drones on.

Aster is so distracted that she doesn’t hear the footsteps until two blocks later, when the telltale crunch of broken glass sounds from behind her. Ice floods her veins but she continues walking, using all of her willpower to keep from turning back. She begins to whistle carelessly, moving her hand inch by precious inch towards the gun stuffed in her pocket. After far too long her fingers find the handle and fold around the cold metal as if it is a lifeline.

In a fluid motion she casts her backpack to the side, flicks the safety off of the gun, and pivots towards the street behind her.

It is empty.

She crouches, glancing at the way early afternoon shadows fall across the building.

There. A vaguely human form lay among them.

Aster grins, grim satisfaction filling her at the thought of catching a Spector. The power enabled people to change their cells to let light pass through their bodies, rendering them practically invisible. However, Spectors still cast shadows.

Expertly Aster follows the shadow, walking forwards until the barrel of her pistol connects with warm skin. A quiet gasp sounds from her stalker. They turn to scramble away, but trip on a discarded piece of concrete behind them, becoming visible as they hit the ground and begin sobbing.

Aster turns to run, fleeing the Spector before it can regain its bearings and disappear from sight, but the tears make her pause.

Slowly she looks over her shoulder, watching in confusion at the very pink dress splayed across the sidewalk behind her. As she picks her way over to it the Spector whimpers, rolling over to expose the face of a little girl scarcely older than eight.

“Charlie?” Aster mumbles, kneeling at the girl’s side. Charlie wraps her arms around herself, nervously glancing at the gun still clutched in Aster’s hand. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you were following me, sweetheart,” Aster murmurs, slowly putting her gun on the ground and kicking it away.

At this the little girl sticks her nose in the air.

“I’m not a ‘sweetheart’. I’m a warrior princess,” she sobs, scowling at Aster before bending to examine a rip in her dress.

“Charlie, are you alright?” Aster helps the girl to her feet, examining the girl’s knees where she had fallen. She had a small scratch on her left shin, but it was nothing serious. Aster breathes a sigh of relief. Charlie glances at the scratch.

“Do ya think it will scar?”

“No. You’ll be fine.” The little girl looks thoroughly disappointed.

“Aw man. I was hoping for battle scars,” she pouts. Aster smiles to herself. Charlie was only eight, but would fight Myriad himself if given the chance. Reckless. The polar opposite of her brother. Aster feels a fresh stab of grief at the thought of Luca, but pushes it aside.

“Charlie, why were you following me?”

“I want to help!”

“What?”

“I want to help you find my brother!” Realization sparks on Charlie’s face. “Wait. You are going to find Luca, right?” In that moment Charlie’s voice seems incredibly fragile, as if she is moments away from breaking down. Then she takes a deep breath and her spitfire personality returns, as if nothing had happened.

Aster knew the feeling well. Taking the smaller girl’s hand she leads her into an alley, away from the roads and Enforcement patrols.

Myriad would love to get ahold of Charlie. An eight year old who had already snapped was incredibly rare. Luca said Charlie had never told anyone what made her snap, but rumor has it her mother was a bit too comfortable with knives before she was arrested by Enforcement.

Aster suddenly feels a surge of protectiveness for the little girl. Speaking softly, she crouches until she can meet Charlie’s eyes.

“I’m not going to find Luca, Charlie. Myriad took him to the keep.”

“I know… I just thought… when you left… “ Charlie stutters, blinking furiously as tears well in her eyes.

“Nobody who goes into The Keep comes out, Charlie. Nobody,” Aster whispers. With a quiet sob Charlie collapses against Aster’s chest, shoulders shaking violently. Aster wraps her arms around the little girl, feeling helpless as her own tears make their way to rest among the shattered glass lining the alley. They stay that way for a while, two little girls cast aside by the world’s uncaring hand.

Aster doesn’t know how much time has passed, but when she looks up it is almost dark. Anxiously she takes Charlie’s hand, towing her towards the mouth of the alley. After dark the Enforcers begin to patrol the streets far more religiously.

“We have to get you back to Fallon, Charlie. It’s not safe out here,” Aster whispers, taking the girl’s hand. The last thing she wants to do is return to Fallon, but Charlie leaves her no choice. Besides, it was Aster’s carelessness that resulted in Charlie being here in the first place. She hadn’t heard the girl following her last night when she fled The Gentlemen. It seems like the streets are getting darker by the second.

Aster breaks into a jog, but Charlie cannot begin to keep up. She lets out a soft whimper in the darkness, and they are forced to walk.

After what seems like an eternity they pass the billboard marking the edge of Gentlemen territory. Aster lets out a sigh of relief. Enforcement doesn’t patrol this closely to The Gentlemen unless they are dropping off a Discipline Order. Exhausted, Charlie sags against Aster’s side.

Aster crouches to pick up the little girl when headlights hit the wall inches above her head.

The familiar whirr of an electric motorbike fills the alley as an Enforcer races through. His eyes are focused on the road ahead, though, so it is clear he is not looking for them. Aster shakes her head. How could another Discipline Order be delivered so soon?

The mechanical whirring fades… but then gets louder. On instinct Aster flattens herself to the ground, meeting Charlie’s fearful eyes in the darkness. Aster presses a firm finger to her lips.

Another bike screams by.

Then another.

Aster soon loses track of the vehicles that have passed. The city is screaming with their motors now. The inhuman noise seems to shake the very ground beneath her. She is filled with a sense of dread

Then, the noise stops

And the burning begins.

Aster smells the flames before she can hear them. The odor of gasoline makes her eyes water.

Before she can stop to think she sprints towards the smell, a primal fear pulsing at her core.

As she rounds the corner she hears the first scream.

Her world has gone up in flames.