The city of Colorado Springs emerged from the fog as Victor's Hummer, and the three cars behind, passed by America the Beautiful park along Fountain Creek.
They turned from the twenty-four, where groups of people stood, dotting the landscape, looking toward the Red Rock Canyon. Many of the inhabitants couldn't keep their eyes off the spectacle, nothing so horrific had ever happened without any warning.
Many adults, together with their children, brandished digital cameras, with many using their cell phones knowing the cameras were the only parts still working.
Along Cascade Avenue, more people appeared. Cars drove along playing chicken with each other, and pedestrians j-walked as they always did.
Victor thought the pedestrians seemed a bit slower. Their steps had no pep, and they stared as if in a daze. A general sense of malaise hung over everyone Victor saw trudging along the downtown streets.
"It's so quiet and depressing down here," said Victor, noting the change in the city from a bustling, champion of the West, to a calm, sullen little town.
"They're planning a festival of some sort, to try and energize people, as if it would make a difference," said Mr. Black. "We need to get the rowdies out of the way first."
They passed by various restaurants, and shops, and soon crossed Bijou Street, by Victor's famous—and infamous—restaurant, the Skirted Heifer. They reached the edge of the park, and off to the right, under the shell, another crowd of protesters gathered—most of them teenagers.
Police staged along each side of the park, their cop cars cycling red and blue lights. Victor found it more interesting, and somewhat disturbing, to see several military vehicles present, and a couple of groups of soldiers—armed with weapons—watching the event.
"Why, soldiers?" said Victor. "It looks peaceful enough, dad."
"Things are different now, there's the talk of more people coming to join in," said Mr. Black.
"But still peaceful?"
"They found two already with concealed weapons, and a couple of knives."
Victor couldn't believe what he heard. These couldn't be the people he knew from school. They had engaged in a protest last year, and no one got as much as a scrape.
The vehicles came to a stop along the side of the park, just past a police cruiser. Victor released his seat belt and prepared to leave the Hummer when his father made him stop.
"You're coming back up the mountain with me later."
"But I need to check in with the others, make sure they're all right —" said Victor, being argumentative.
"We notified their parents. You can stay for a while, and I need to check-in. However, I want you here, in THIS SPOT, at twenty-hundred hours, got it?"
"Yes, dad."
"I mean it." Victor's dad delivered a stern look—he meant business, and Victor knew it. "Don't disappear again."
"I'm not going anywhere."
"Nothing is certain. How's your head doing?" said Mr. Black.
"It's better since leaving that death zone," said Victor, who pointed to the soldier in the driver's seat. "This guy gave me some stuff to tide me over."
"Don't overdo it. Doctor Lamb wants to see you this week for an evaluation."
"Yes, dad."
"Go ahead, check on your friends. We'll be looking for Kane—stupid kid—and get in touch. Remember, twenty-hundred hours."
YOU ARE READING
Victor Black - And the Garden of the Gods
Science FictionVictor Black seems to have it all. He graduated at the age of sixteen. His parents have money, and his father is a high-ranking military official in Colorado Springs. Victor is also a competitive figure skater and world traveler. Everything was supp...
