Link City

Best Friends *

Chapter 7: Best Friends

Getting up into the pipes was easy. The lowest one was just a small jump above my outstretched arms. From there only a little core strength was required to pull myself up onto one of the larger pipes. It was pleasantly warm, and I wrapped my arm around it, hugging it like it would shield me for what was coming.

A man came first, a guard. A strange gun hung at his side, and he was dressed strangely. Like a guard from the future, from the real world. Behind him marched a line of what I could only assume were prisoners, then another guard bringing up the rear. The prisoners' hand were held together in front of them by plastic handcuffs with no chain between them. Magic, just like the elevator.

They walked slowly, heads bowed, all mirrors of eachother. That was why the last prisoner in line stood out to me. She dallied, walking: back strait, lagging on purpose. The guard shoved his gun in the small of her back. She staggered a little, but made no attempt to correct her behaviour. With shock I realized that she couldn't be much older than I. Short brown hair, not much longer than Dustin's. And, as she turned her face away from the ground, I saw the mark. It was not like mine. She was too old for that. It was the twin of the gun store owner's; black and red.

Even in the dim light her eyes were striking. Not a soft blue like mine, they were the colour of Windex, and ice cold. Our eyes met, and the breath caught in my throat. Would she say something? A smirk twitched at the corner of her mouth. The guard shoved her again and the connecting was broken. Two more steps and she was at the door, which the first guard had opened with a hand print.

She stopped again as if considering whether or not to go through it. The guard, unsurprisingly, took offence. This time the blow caused her to trip, and she tumbled to her knees. I watched, transfixed, as she groped around on the ground, her hands finding what they'd been looking for. The guard kicked out, foot connecting with her stomach. She gasped in pain, and I winced. As she grasped the door frame, seemingly trying to get to her feet, she placed the piece of loose concrete right in the opening.

With one more backwards glance, she headed out into the hall. The guard let the door fall shut behind him, stopped by the rock my saviour had placed. I let out a gasp of relief. I was safe, I could leave this place.

I knew I should wait longer to make sure the guards were far away, but I'd stayed down here as long as I could. Jumping to the ground, I hesitantly peaked my head out into the open. The passage was empty. A smudge of dried blood on the floor was all that remained of my second kill. His friends must have removed him. I turned away, swallowing the bile that had risen in my throat. Fresh air. I needed fresh air.

As I sucked in the sweat, garbage smelling, oxygen, my mind kept wandering back to the prisoner girl. What was she doing in the city? She'd obviously survived her marking. Why wasn't she enjoying the future? For the first time since the mark had been tattooed on my face, I began to worry about what would happen after, if I was still alive. That had always been the safe zone to me, the gleaming horizon, but what if it wasn't all it was cracked up to be?

I shook the thought from my mind, breaking into a jog. What other choice did I have? I was not going to die in this hell, this recreated model... this fake. I would get out, and learn why. That was what would pull me through this. The mysterious, blue eyed girl had saved my life, and although I tried my best to banish it from my mind, I hoped that I would see her again.

It was still dark when I reached Jason's apartment, but I did not know the exact time. Feeling eyes on me, I pressed my back into the brick, unwilling to round the corner to reach the main entrance. Testing out a hunch I peeked out, making sure I stayed in the shadows. Just as I'd suspected, right down the street, the van stood idol; an ominous shadow.