Renegade

Chapter nineteen

They left the house before sunrise on the fourth day. Amanda was still forced to carry the bulk of their belongings, but Makoto had managed to get his hands on an old shoulder bag, which they had filled with spare clothing.

They took some of the canned food - including beans, much to his dismay - and Makoto also swiped two smaller novels. They cleaned up as well as they could after themselves, but there was no way to actually erase all traces of their break-in.

They slipped out through the back door, cool air washing over them. Amanda had wrapped a gray shawl around her shoulders as the weather forecast had announced a drop in temperatures.

Makoto's hair was tied back, a single lock dancing about in front of his face. The thing seemed to have a mind of its own, for no matter how often he pulled it back with the rest of his hair, it would still find a way to spring free and tickle his upper lip. He probably should have just chopped it off.

They stole across the driveway, checking their surroundings to make sure nobody saw them. The streets were deserted at this hour, most houses still dark. Wiggling the strap of his bag higher, Makoto led them back to the T shaped crossing, veering right towards the city.

He didn't have a more specific destination than that, nor did he have a plan. Planning ahead was a waste of time for people like them because it always seemed to fall through or backfire.

More often than not, they ended up running into CS patrol units who had wanted lists with recent pictures and detailed descriptions of AW fugitives. So runaways lived life a day at a time. Running. Hiding. Hoping they could last another hour outside the CS's clutches.

No one really knew what happened to those that were captured because none of them ever escaped.

There were rumors of holding facilities where captives were subjected to endless testing, of brutal prisons where inmates were beaten and humiliated, of ability suppressing waves ramped up so high they caused endless migraines. Execution camps, cryogenics labs, places where one was mercilessly stripped of their ability.

Everybody had some story or the other but no one really knew, not even the CS field operatives. For one of the reasons there were so few leaks and incidents was because they all functioned on a need to know basis.

Regular CS operatives, clad in black uniforms patrolled the cities: they were the eyes and ears of the organization, while also providing a sense of security to the population - or dread, depending on which side one stood.

The Intervention Squad, recognizable from their black helmets and imposing rifles, were called upon when AWs needed to be subdued.

Trackers, who differed from the Intervention Squad solely in uniform color - patches of dark green amidst all the black -, were specialized in tracking and capturing fugitives.

The Engineering Department, who created and perfected the organization's weaponry. The Research Division, who studied the AWS and many, many more branches that were unknown to the public.

The sun was rising behind the city and they could hear the sound of the first shutters being pulled up. The suburb was slowly coming awake around them, people preparing for their day.

They walked in silence, doing their best to appear inconspicuous; regardless of the fact that they were two teenagers walking to the city at dawn. Luckily, they weren't that far anymore.

They reached a bridge that signaled the end of the residential area. A pair was lounging next to the stone construction, one of them nonchalantly leaned against it. Makoto's brows furrowed at the sight and he wondered who the hell decided to hang out there at this time of the day.