Chapter 2: Fight or Flight

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 “Damn you! Dope,”

Runner surged forward with both hands wrapped to a fist. Troy got to him quickly, throwing his arms around Runner’s torso to hold him back. Good thing he did. Three boys and a girl descended down the stairs of the outpost and stood behind Dope. They bore a fierce expression and were all dressed in the black military garb of Section 5.

“Calm down, Runner,” Troy whispered to him, “or we would both leave here with one eye and empty pockets.”

Dope’s strength was the tons of hungry boys and girls who followed him around like the betas of a dog pack. He had bought their allegiances by securing a place for them amongst the well paid guards of section 5. For any inhabitant of the slums, a job at Section 5 was reason enough to sell one’s loyalty. It wasn’t just about the pay, but the constant exploration of the wastelands provided opportunities to loot copper and other valuable scrap metals.

There was no need to press further. Runner’s effort has been stretched thin chasing the dream that was Section 5. Now, as he stood before Dope’s gang, he knew the only thing to do was to retreat with any little dignity he had left. Retreating meant another night spent twisting and turning on his hard bed, and listening to the rumbling cries of his stomach.

His hunger he could manage, but how was he going to endure the cries of the two kids that had made him an underage guardian? They had been left to him by his deceased aunt. Desperate for a hot night meal, she had gone into the government’s reserved hunting ground for a buck, but instead took a bullet from the guards. Her burden was now his and as he lingered before Dope, those thoughts couldn’t have hurt any worse.

Runner’s fist trembled as he stared angrily at Dope. He knew the best course of action was to turn around and leave. Dope would see it as a weakness and jump on every opportunity to cause him misery.

Dope raised his right hand, “Is this what you want?” he opened his palm and set loose tens of credit chips to fall at his feet.

All that money falling to the ground, It made Runner’s stomach churn at Dope’s folly. He wanted the credits. They were his deserved pay for the day. But a gang of teenage boys and girls was the only thing keeping him from tearing Dope apart. Even if somehow he managed to get through them, Dope’s dad was the Chief Enforcer of Section 5. The man would have the guards hang and cane him till his flesh peeled off.

“Come on, Runner,” Troy pulled one end of his shirt to draw him back, “Let’s go pick some scrap metal and sell to Old Max, we could at least get five credits for that, enough for two meals.”

Troy and Runner turned away from Dope and began to walk away.

“Are you going to cry, Runner? Are you going to cry for mommy and daddy? Oh! I forgot.  They have been rotting somewhere in the wastelands for years.”

Dope burst into a loud laughter, expecting his gang to join, but it seemed they didn’t share his enthusiasm and left him to an embarrassing lonely laughter.

Runner tensed and tried to turn but Troy grabbed his arm and held him, “he is not worth your time, leave him to his foolishness.”

Troy was not one of the smartest or brightest, but he was the best soul Runner has ever known. He was kind and easy going, with a slow reaction to anger and his gentle blue eyes held his attributes in keen.

Both boys made towards the gates. In the distance, a large shadow was growing. Runner turned around and despite having seen it many times, it still felt magnificent. The shadow was cast by the stark walls of the big city, MegacityOne. A bright artificial glowing light that had replaced the sun, dimmed to give way to a silvery light, a perfect replica of the moon’s beam.

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