Dusk

Chapter Fifteen

Don't you remember what happened last time?

It was only a couple of months ago, and I was out late. Ezra had turned in with some girl, leaving me to fend for myself- not that I minded, anyway. It felt good to be alone sometimes, to have my thoughts to myself and not worry about a certain curly-haired friend ruin the silence, or otherwise a stoic older brother who would be watching my every move to make sure I toed the line.

I was strolling casually down a mostly empty street. It was a bit cramped, as I remember. The buildings were a bit taller than normal, but quite close together, making the street narrow and dingy. There were very few people about. Those that were outside at that late hour were sitting on the steps into their units, smoking or eating. There was a rowdy group of men walking behind me, their voices carrying easily through the air.

"So, what's your opinion on Idris?" One asked. His voice was gravelly and hoarse, probably from cigarettes.

"Someone who goes against the Elites can't be bad," another replied. "What's the saying, anyway... the enemy of my enemy is my friend, something like that."

"I bet fifty credits that he's the Chancellor under that mask." The gravelly voice said, snickering. A couple of others laughed, too.

"Fifty credits? That's not even a bet, that's pocket money!"

"Shut up," hissed a new voice. "Don't even mention that piece of shit around me. Haven't you realized what happens to us if he gets rid of the Elites and puts himself in power? Let me make this very clear. If he wins, our hold on this sector disappears. Are you morons telling me that you want that equality bullshit over what we have right now?"

The men lapsed into a tense silence, one punctuated by the occasional cough or rustle of clothing as they walked.

So they're a gang, I'd thought. How much power do they command, anyway?

A sudden gust of wind blew then-long hair out of my hat. I turned, my eyes surveying the immediate area. The hat had flown from me to the men. I counted seven of them. They were dressed in unusually nice clothing, very different from what I was used to seeing. One of the men, flamboyantly dressed in a bright fuchsia suit, stopped to pick it up as it had landed at his feet. He examined it briefly, before he looked up at me, his black, beady eyes meeting my own.

"Is this yours?" He asked, holding my weathered hat up. I recognized his voice as the one that had reprimanded the other men with him. His clothes looked a great deal newer than his friends' clothes did. He was probably the leader.

"Yeah," I said. "Can you toss it over?"

He did no such thing. Instead, he walked towards me, his shiny shoes repelling the dirt that puffed up around him as he walked. He held out my hat in one tanned hand. I reached out to take it, a "thank you" on my lips, when he grabbed my hand in his free one and brought me close to him.

"You know, I feel like I've been fooled."

I wasn't afraid of the man; I was confident in my ability to get away if he tried anything. I decided to entertain him for a while. "Fooled?"

He nodded slowly. "With these shapeless clothes you have on, I thought you were a man. Your hat wasn't helping the matter, either. Who taught you to dress like that, hmm? Was it your mother? Was she afraid that you'd get into trouble if you didn't look like a man?"

"My brother, actually."

The leader bared his teeth and smiled cruelly at me. He tossed my hat back to his posse and caressed my cheek. "Oh, of course, of course. He wanted to keep you all to himself. He must have quite the sister complex."