27. Hostiles

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May 20, 2045 - 3:21 AM

The snow built up around the streets like walls, barricades constructed to imprison Margo with her guilt and her emotions inside a car on a voyage to nowhere. The windows of her car were one-way, giving her a view of the benumbed city she called home while reflecting the city and its hindrances away from her, further isolating her in this moving vessel she couldn't distinguish between a refuge or a prison.

She sat in the center of the backseat, a holographic TV screen hovering in front of her. "Meteorologists have detected another freak blizzard overtaking the city of Philadelphia," the newscaster announced, "reminiscent of the cold snaps of June 1816, an event often referred to as 'The Year Without A Summer'. With climate change continuing to spiral out of control, it's not a surprise a phenomenon like this could occur, and city officials are still debating whether to cancel the upcoming..."

Still curled up in her seat, Margo glanced outside at the incoming skyscrapers of downtown Philadelphia. Her vehicle was illuminated by the fabricated glow of neon as massive holographic screens and projections hovered above her and the rest of the city. The snow continued to pile up on the sidewalks, but her ThoughtControl piece continued picking up signs of life as citizens continued wandering the streets, indifferent to the weather.

"Hello? Brian?" she called Royce through her piece. "I need your help."

"Sandoval!" Royce gasped. "I-I-I'm in the middle of something! My Sofia needs me."

"I'm sorry to bother you, but someone just broke—"

"I'm sorry, but you'll have to deal with it yourself, Sandoval. You've got a Fatemaker for a reason. Use it on yourself if you have to. But make sure it's not on its Execute mode if you do, of course."

"Brian, you didn't even let me—"

Royce's connection disappeared. She then called Andrade. "Inspector Andrade," she uttered with exhaustion, "this is Officer Sandoval. Someone just broke into my apartment. I need some backup to prevent the intruder from hurting the other tenants."

"You had one damn job, Sandoval," Andrade groaned. "Don't you know how Fatemakers work? Scan your print, aim the gun, seal their fate. It's in the name."

"W-W-Well yeah, but I wanted to negotiate just in case! I thought maybe we could save—"

"Try focusing on saving yourself sometimes." Then their connection vanished.

Margo sat back, her mouth ajar. She didn't understand all of this sudden hostile behavior. The more optimistic part of her tried to convince her that they were all just cranky since she woke them up in the middle of the night, but the thought grew more childish the more she pondered it.

Her car slowed to a halt as it approached an intersection. The red glow of the traffic lights consumed her car. Looking out her window, she saw a man struggling to tread through the snow burying the sidewalk and his legs. His jacket wasn't appropriate for the weather in the slightest, and the condition of nearly every other item of clothing on his body indicated poverty. He collapsed into a pile of snow in front of him, his breathing growing slower by the second. He was only a few blocks away from the homeless shelter where Margo's mother worked.

Margo used her ThoughtControl piece to dial emergency services. "Send an ambulance over to my location!" she ordered. "A man just passed out in the cold."

"We're on our way," they replied. "Thank you."

The lights turned green. The car moved forward and Margo looked back at the man's body as it disappeared into the ashy haze. She let out a sigh of relief when she saw an ambulance rushing past her vehicle toward his location. "Glad I finally did something right tonight," she mumbled, rubbing her eyes tiredly.

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