Ella stepped out into a dimly lit void. The door, which she had to yank close behind her, rested on two rusty hinges and barely slotted into an increasingly warped frame.
The crisp early autumn air filled her lungs as her heavy and elated breaths betrayed her excitement. Her knee-high boots contacted the concrete landing that extended two feet from the sidewalk. Both landing and steps were crumbled to the point of being a serious tripping hazard.
Her skin-tight black jeans and white turtle neck sweater accented her boots well. The black trench coat draped over her shoulders kept the night chill at bay. Her practiced feet made a swift bound down the five steps. Not once did she catch on any jagged edges or dive into any potholes that pocked the steps and street.
Her haste was brought about by a sense of urgency she rarely experienced. She was late to a serious matter. The delight, nerves, and her hastily eaten dinner churned in her stomach. Not even her fiancé could stop her now, even had he known her true intention for the night. She had kept her plans hidden especially from him.
Her fiancé was the type of man who had little time and even less interest in things that didn’t pertain to his “perfect plan” for their future. His plan set out in excruciating detail how every aspect of their lives should develop to obtain maximum happiness.
He had the plan since childhood. She despised the principle of the plan with its strict timetables and its demand for absolute perfection. Every time she brought up a complaint about the plan an argument would ensue.
Each piece of the plan was infused with inarguable logic meaning it could never be out-reasoned on any individual point. It was the way it came together that rubbed her the wrong way. The plan necessitated perfection from her in every aspect of both her work and personal life.
It felt like a device intended to suffocate her spontaneous and fun-loving nature. The worst part was that it often had to be changed on the fly to deal with either her mistakes or some external issues. This always put her fiancé in a rotten mood and like clockwork, he took that frustration out on her.
Their recent fight could have been predicted by any person with two brain cells and a cursory knowledge of their relationship. The tense three-hour bout had been their loudest one yet and had ended with him on the couch and her in an empty bed.
She had gone well overboard with her insults and in retrospect regretted most of them. The argument had been played on repeat through her head for the past few days. Until the fight was resolved she could only distract herself from it.
She had reached the end of her street and made a right turn heading toward the center of Summit Hill. She had lived not far from this section of the city ever since she had dropped out of college and moved in with her fiancé a little over a year and a half ago. The expenses of university had become unjustifiable due to the economic downturn, and her lack of more personal funds.
Her plan to look for a job had been fruitless. Thus, she was forced to mooch off her fiancé, a fact which she hated. He had not taken that news well either. To be in accordance with the insufferable plan she should have already obtained a stable entry job to advance into a lucrative career. Every day that went by in which she remained unemployed was another knock against her.
Ella’s disdain toward her fiancé was a recent and temporary emotion that had weighed her down since the inconclusive fight. Her fiancé had a few quirks but she loved him more than she ever knew she could love anything. He drove her crazy, often in a good way.
She had been the one to propose three months before. He had taken it in stride, though it had messed up his timeline some more. The change in the plan was something she relished being able to intentionally achieve. They had their problems but the good far outweighed the bad.
She had left him in a hurry this evening. She avoided giving her usual quick kiss on the cheek but did squeeze his hand upon which rested a golden engagement ring. The well-polished and meticulously maintained ring had cost her the last of her personal funds.
Her fiancé didn’t seem to notice the lack of a kiss as he slurped down his hastily prepared dinner. His face was the epitome of exhaustion. Dark circles ringed his half-open eyes. His body moved on autopilot. He didn’t speak a word through his whole meal. He only uttered a shaky “be safe” before he snuck off to bed.
The previous day he pulled an all-nighter at his agency. A routine that occurred far more frequently over the past three months. It was all a part of the plan. He appeared to be aiming for a promotion this year she guessed.
She couldn’t complain much as the increase in his wages would ease the strain on their already stretched finances. The long periods of separation sure didn’t help their currently rocky relationship, however.
Her mind returned to her surroundings, the ancient and seldom lit lampposts whizzed by in a blur as she continued making her way toward the abandoned retail store on Grand Avenue. She had received an unmarked letter in her mailbox that requested her to meet at the old jewelry shop, to receive a special delivery and further instructions.
There was no doubt that this had come from her old student group she had joined in university. The group had often planned rallies in support of the right to abortion and other human rights. In particular, minority rights. Which were slowly stripped over the past four decades.
The country had been plagued by a series of more frequent and intense protests due to a shift in government toward authoritarianism and away from democracy. These protests often turned into riots which cost the government much headache and billions of dollars in damage.
The most recent series of riots occurred after the seemingly unjustified killing of fifteen protesters during a recent march against the current administration. There were rumors that a pair of children were among the dead, but this was hard to confirm as the régime had attempted to sweep the story under the rug.
The violence and unrest that followed the leaking of the story had been catastrophic and pushed much of the country to the breaking point of full-on anarchy. Street clashes between angry mobs and government troops had become a near nightly occurrence and many cities had declared martial law.
The city's backdrop had become one of smoke and fire. The protesters had turned to riots to make their voices heard. A fire had been set at the fifth police precinct on the second day after an unknown group of rioters had converged on the building from what many said was thin air. Though the governor had yet to name one of the dozens of terrorist opposition groups it could have been, rumor had it that the group responsible was called the Children of Liberty.
Ella didn’t know much about them but knew they were one of the more radical groups that had sprung up in the past decade to strike back against government tyranny in all forms whether state, local, or federal.
The honk of a horn focused her back on her surroundings. She jumped back as an ancient red pickup truck nearly struck her. A middle finger stuck from the driver-side window of the truck as it continued to blare its horn.
“Fuck you too buddy,” Ella breathed. The crosswalk was empty of pedestrians beside her and a woman pushing a stroller. The woman was on the phone having a rather boisterous call with whom Ella assumed was her mother.
The woman had eyed Ella with a mix of concern and then contempt after her near-fatal run-in with the truck. Her quick size-up left Ella feeling awkward and more than slightly embarrassed.
The woman was young and appeared to be not far removed from her high school years. Her face however portrayed that of a fully grown and overly stressed parent. The difference between the woman’s youthful body and her disheveled face was stark. Ella hoped that her face didn’t look like that yet, but she feared it soon would if she continued to remain as stressed as she had been over the past few months.
“He left me to raise this child by myself, Mom!” the woman shouted into the phone.
“I’ve got no job and I am at my wit's end,” Her voice began to break as she continued, “I need you; I can’t do this by myself anymore.”
Tears were running down the woman’s face and her baby began to cry. Ella had always hated kids and was determined never to have any. They were noisy, untidy, and they were needy, a lethal combination for a woman of her disposition.
The woman reached into the stroller to pull out the child and began to coo and rock it to sleep. The thing that emerged was a bright shade of red and clearly in tremendous distress. When it laid eyes on Ella however it stopped crying. Its grass-green eyes still wet with tears brightened upon seeing her. The corners of its mouth reversed from a frown to a smile and the happiest little giggle Ella had ever heard escaped from its now smiling face.
The woman rocked her baby on her shoulder as she continued to talk on the phone. The intensity of the conversation remained but the volume dropped as if someone had turned down a soap opera. The baby continued to stare at Ella Its sporadic giggles sent her heart fluttering and made her nervous panting subside. Her anxious face was consumed by an increasingly wider smile. As the corners of her mouth curved up the child gave out a high-pitched laugh and gave Ella a small wave before collapsing into a deep sleep on its mother’s weary shoulder.
Ella continued to stare and gave a small wave in return even as the sleeping kid, still smiling, was lowered back into the stroller. Lost in the moment Ella had failed to notice the light finally turn green as the old crosswalk lit up a white man in a walking position.
Ella bolted across the intersection. So much for making up lost time she thought. She was only a few blocks away now. If only her fiancé had picked up her bike from the shop today. That would have made the whole trip much easier.
“Asshole,” she wheezed as she continued to run. Their fight two days ago had been epic and he had probably forgotten to pick it up on purpose to spite her. His petty tactics were revealed whenever they argued. She pushed him out of her mind again, he wasn’t worth thinking about right now. There was no point in dampening her quickly returning excitement. She had no plans on making up with him for at least a few more days.
Only two more blocks she thought to herself. Her breathing was extremely rugged and her lungs burned, the cold air did nothing to aid her. The long run with knee-high boots strained her ankles and left her heels rubbed raw. Why she had chosen these over any other shoes, besides the fact that they were cute, she didn’t know. There was no time to turn around and grab a different pair of shoes so she was stuck with them.
She reached the front of the old shop out of breath, her lungs sucked in air and her wheezing drowned out all other noise. She took a few minutes to compose herself. The butterflies began to churn in her stomach. She had not realized how nervous she had become during her run. She had not been this nervous since giving her first public speech in high school. Her whole body was tense as her breathing began to return to normal.
She straightened up and combed a hand through her blonde hair to remove the loose strands from around her eyes. She took a deep breath as she strode through the partially open door.
She was greeted by a bleak and empty interior, glass shelves lined around the walls, their contents long since removed or sold. In the center of the room bathed in candlelight sat a ring of chairs all but one of which were occupied. A table in the center of the ring held a large collection of white candles.
The candlelight flickered wildly off the glass shelves giving the room a spooky and chaotic feel. In between each chair sat a candle on a short bronze stand. The trays were starting to pool with hot wax meaning they had been lit for some time.
“So, you’re the last,” a gruff voice stated from the back of the room. Deep in the far corner, a figure stood alone. His face was masked in thick shadows cast by flickering candlelight. In the background sounds of explosions gave the situation more urgency. The third night of rioting had clearly started and it appeared the police had come prepared this time.
“Close the door and lock it,” the voice rasped. It belonged to a middle-aged man who was more than likely a long-time smoker. The voice grated on her ears but she did as it bade her.
When the door was closed, she noticed an archaic steel bolt and slid it from the door into a hole in the frame securely latching the door in place. That’s not going anywhere she thought as she gave the bolt a little tap out of habit. She did the same thing with her door bolt back in her apartment to remind her it was secure.
With the door clearly locked she made her way quickly to the only empty chair remaining and sat. Only now did she take the time to look around. She noticed a few familiar faces from her university days. The outline of the girl to her right appeared eerily familiar, it took Ella’s mind only seconds to register who was sitting there.
“Isabella?” she whispered without realizing she had done so. Not a moment later did she wish she had stayed silent.
Isabella’s head snapped to the left to catch Ella taking her seat. “Ella!” Isabella replied her voice a shocked whisper.
A finger snapped from the mysterious figure, silencing the room.
“Let’s keep quiet, you ladies can chat when this is over,” the figure said, his middle and pointer finger pronged toward the two women.
Ella immediately straightened up and refrained from further conversation, but she could feel the eyes of her former best friend still glued to her. The man snapped his finger again, the sound echoed across the room louder and more threatening. Only then did the pair of eyes glued to her remove their increasingly dark gaze.
Ella normally disapproved of men like this, authoritative in a condescending way. However, in this situation, the atmosphere in the room was thick with tension. The threat of violence seemed ever-present. This did not surprise Ella in the slightest as what she was about to participate in was definitely illegal.
“Now,” the voice said as it moved from its spot in the cloaked corner.
“You are all here to teach a lesson on how powerful a few dedicated voices can be,” The man continued as he paced around the group his face flicking between being covered in shadow and slightly illuminated by candlelight.
“You have chosen to commit yourselves to the cause of liberty for which I and my comrades applaud you.” As the man spoke making his way around the room his face was revealed to be covered by a milk-white mask.
“Your task,” he said his voice becoming more authoritative, “is to plant a distraction in the space between the boot of order and those who fight against it.”
“The people have been fighting a battle against the state's enforcers for a few hours now, we have learned their tactics and devised a plan,” stated the man, his tone switching between extreme aggression and subdued calm.
“When the enforcers inch close enough to the distraction, we will ignite the sound of freedom giving us a window to act while they are distracted.” The man’s unwavering confidence energized the room.
“While the enforcers are dazed and confused fighters from our assault core will charge their lines and push them back.” The man’s pace increased causing his voice to travel in an eerie manner. Ella looked up and only now noticed six large bags under the table in the middle of the circle. They appeared to be large military backpacks.
“Do not under any circumstances open the bags!” the voice boomed, “The bags are rigged to go off if opened.”
“Once you have planted these distraction devices you must disappear and become one with the crowd,” he said while gesturing toward the six bags.
“These bags are not designed to hurt anyone,” the man said flatly, “So do not bother asking.”
“When the distractions have had their intended effect, we ask that all planters,” he paused, “which is you, leave the area immediately.”
“Remember to lay low for a time and either destroy or burn the clothing you wore tonight.” As the man finished his sentence, he also ceased his pacing.
“All instructions are provided for on the bag,” he said, “do not forget to leave everything that you are given here on the devices as those items will be collected and disposed of by our agents.”
“Any questions?” He asked with a quick scan of the room. When no one raised their hands, the man stepped forward towards where the bags rested. As he closed in on the circle his face became clear to all the participants. It was covered by a large white mask which was highlighted by a grimly drawn face. He was dressed all in black except for on his breast pocket, there was pinned a patch. A flag of red and white stripes.
The man swiftly reached down and began to hand out a bag to each member who sat in the circle. As the bags were exchanged the masked man bent and whispered something inaudible into their ear. Ella strained her ears to hear. She could make out nothing until the man handed a bag to the man directly to her left. Faintly she heard one word, Liberty.
The ever-increasing doubt that this wasn’t her old university group was now confirmed. Ella’s nerves and excitement now turned to fear. Who was this group and what did they want? They clearly were after the safeguarding of liberty. But how far would they take it?
Those two questions swirled in her head as the masked man now turned his attention towards her. The grim mask was ominous in the flicker of the candlelight. Its determined eyes bored into her own and the elation she felt earlier renewed itself tenfold. It was as if the mask spoke to her. It seemed to put all its hope and will on her to bring about a better future.
She knew it was too late to back out now. She didn’t even entertain the idea; she would do the right thing. Liberty needed to be protected no matter the cost.
He stepped toward her each movement was purposeful as if part of a ritualized ceremony. With a snap of his arms, the bag hung in front of her. She reached out and grabbed it. It was heavier than she thought it would be as she pulled it into her lap.
The man’s arms retracted and he bent forward at his waist, unnaturally so, in the flickering candlelight. The mask came to rest next to her ear as the heavy smell of cigarettes wafted into her nose.
The mask spoke, “Go forth daughter of liberty.”
Ella’s eyes dilated and a shiver ran down her spine. She had never understood what people found in the ceremonies of tradition, but now she thought she understood. Something about the whole situation made one feel powerfully sacred and divinely blessed.
She continued to stare forward lost in the bliss of the moment and stymied by her own thoughts. The man had moved on to the next person and had soon made his way around the whole circle. Finished with his task the man retreated to the shadow of the deep corner once again.
“Fulfill your obligations to our darling Liberty,” The voice commanded as it vanished into the darkness.
The group sat around and looked at one another for a long time, no words passed between them. It was the man to her left who was the first to stand up. He made his way to the door unbolted it and walked out. The rest followed shortly after, each taking the time they needed to process what they had just witnessed.
As Ella left the dark room her gut churned with mixed feelings of anxiety and purpose. As she stepped out onto the dimly lit street, she saw Izzy waiting for her.
Her long black hair was tied into a bun. Her cute round face stared up at Ella with a mixture of shock and a smattering of anger. She was on the shorter side and Ella towered over her, though Ella herself was not far off from the female average in height. Izzy was as stunning as the last time they had met and Ella struggled to push that intrusive thought from her overactive mind.
Ella and Izzy had been inseparable in their college days. Having spent most of them together had made their bond appear unbreakable. However, nothing seemed to last forever, at least not for Ella.
The ability to maintain even the closest of friendships had always eluded her grasp. She determined it to be a curse that clung to her like a leach. Izzy’s fierce golden-brown eyes met hers, their spark was visible even on the dimly lit street.
“Ella,” Izzy stated far more cooly than she had in the meeting.
“I never expected to see you again,” she said eyeing Ella with contempt. Ella’s face hardened as she replied. “I’m full of surprises.”
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“Besides I felt an obligation to do this, it feels important,” Ella elaborated when Izzy’s deafening silence clouded the air.
“Well, that’s not a surprise,” Izzy said the hostility leaked from her voice like a poison vaper.
“What is a surprise is that you didn’t come up with a shit excuse to get out of it.”
Ella immediately became defensive, her demeanor changed from curious apprehension to bitter loathing. All the feelings from what happened two years ago shot back to the front of her mind.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ella asked accusingly.
“Nothing,” Izzy replied, “It’s just what I’ve come to expect from you.”
“That’s why I stopped talking to you,” Ella stated idly, as her eyes rolled and her voice barely reached above a whisper.
“Oh, is that the reason?” Izzy said the rhetorical nature of the question plain on her face, “and here I thought it was because you are afraid of commitment.” The exasperated laugh at the end of her statement was like a nail being dragged on a chalkboard. “Glad we could clear that up,” Izzy said cutting Ella off before she could speak.
“Yeah, well fuck you too Izzy,” Ella said her eyebrows entrenching rage across her face. The step up in personal attacks had not been entirely unexpected but was definitely not welcome. The only relief was that none of the other members of the circle had stuck around to see this growing spat.
“This is why I switched back to men,” Ella growled.
“At least with men I don’t have to deal with shit like this,” She finished as she gestured a hand at Izzy.
Izzy looked shocked by the statement, which gave Ella a slight bit of pleasure. Izzy’s shock was quickly replaced by fury, her perfect features contorted into the look of a demon.
“Thank God you’re not my problem anymore Ella,” Izzy said raising her voice to a scream, “But I should probably inform whoever you're seeing next of the fact that you’ll leave when they get to fucking attached.”
Ella didn’t notice the painful regret that flickered behind Izzy’s eyes as she finished her statement. The rage that had been barely contained before had taken over Ella’s mind like a virus and there was no stopping her tirade.
“I’m not afraid of commitment!” Ella screamed in response, “I just never wanted to commit to you!” The anger in her voice stabbed into Izzy like a spear. Ella’s perfectly crafted retort left Izzy paralyzed in a mixture of shock, dread, and defeat. Ella stood puffed up like a cat in a fight, her chest heaving air. The fury left her more exhausted than her recent run.
“Fuck you,” Izzy whispered while wiping a single tear from her eye.
Silence hung between the two for a few minutes. Izzy allowed Ella to stew in her clear overreaction until it started to eat her up inside. Ella hated the feeling of guilt, it clung to her like a bad smell that no amount of effort seemed to mask let alone remove. Izzy had long ago mastered the art of guilt, and wielded it to great effect.
In a vain attempt to avoid her increasing guilt, Ella decided to ignore Izzy’s crushed face in favor of checking the bag. Attached to each backpack was an ancient-looking GPS, and on the back were the instructions for what to do with the distraction device. Summed up it basically stated to place the device in the position indicated on the GPS, to hide it from sight of the enforcers, and do it with the least chance of being noticed by both cameras and other people.
Simple enough Ella thought as she snatched the GPS off the bag and flicked it on. The old black and white screen buzzed to life and quickly found her position. She interacted with the buttons to zoom out and find where she needed to place the bag. It appeared to be no more than twelve blocks away plus a few blocks of zig zags for what Ella determined to be avoiding cameras.
Both Izzy and Ella were busy focused on their GPS and both began to walk in the direction of their designated drop-off. Unfortunately for both, they seemed to be walking in the same direction. They made it two blocks in silence neither willing to speak any further.
They walked shoulder to shoulder in an incantation of silence that both were determined to be the last to break, as speaking first would mean admitting defeat. At the end of the second block, they both turned right.
“Okay, why the fuck are you following me?” Izzy said more than a little disgruntled. “You got something else to say to me?”
“No, you’re the one following me,” Ella replied with the same amount of exasperation. Izzy snatched Ella’s GPS out of her hand.
“Fuck!” Izzy groaned looking even more irritated, “We’re going to the same place.”
“No way,” Ella said snatching both GPS from Izzy.
Reality dawned on both of them, their drop spots were practically the same location only Izzy would drop her bag ten feet ahead of Ella’s bag. The worst part is they were scheduled to take the same path and the time crunch stipulated by the instructions of dropping the bags as fast as possible also meant that they would be forced to walk together. Ella handed Izzy back her GPS as the realization that they were stuck together for the next twenty minutes washed over her.
“Thank you,” Izzy said as she grabbed the GPS. The fight in her voice was gone, replaced with a cold detachment.
Izzy began walking forward as Ella stayed back watching her go. Izzy’s change in tone along with the sobering reality that they were stuck together calmed Ella considerably. Her rational mind began to function again and she quickly concluded to tell Izzy the truth that she had wanted to say for years. It was time she thought.
She could no longer stand the feeling of self-hatred and guilt that had drained her emotionally for months now. Ella concluded it was time to push past her fear and speak her mind whether it would be received well or not.
“Izzy!” Ella said razing her voice to catch Izzy’s attention. Ella’s voice quickly became horse as her throat tightened around what felt like a tennis ball. Izzy stopped and slowly turned on her heel. She looked like she expected another fight but her demeanor changed when she saw Ella’s face. Both tears and words poured out of Ella like a dam bursting.
“I’m Sorry,” Ella choked, “you’re right I am afraid of commitment and I didn’t know how to tell you.”
Izzy stood frozen not a word escaped her clenched lips.
“You’re wild, unpredictable, and brilliant, which is everything I love about you,” Ella said as tears streaked down her face, “But I can’t control or predict that and it scares me.”
‘You didn’t deserve any of the things I did or said to you,” she sobbed, “I didn’t know how to handle the situation so I hurt you.”
“I fucked the whole thing up like usual,” Ella concluded as tears continued to stream out of her pink and puffy eyes.
“It was easier to just push you away than to tell you how much you truly mean to me,” Ella sniffled.
Izzy remained unmoving, her expression unchanged, for what felt to Ella like hours. Izzy went from stone still to sprinting faster than Ella could blink. She expected a slap, but the unexpected feeling of arms around her made Ella melt.
Izzy embraced her, their tear-strewn faces locked inches apart by their touching foreheads. Both girl’s legs gave out at the same time and they collapsed into a heap on the ground. They held each other for what felt to Ella to be a blissful eternity. All the months of guilt and self-loathing were washed away by the tears of her and her ex.
“I’m sorry too,” Izzy said as she pulled back her head to look into Ella’s eyes, “I was afraid that I meant nothing to you, and I thought making you commit would ease my fear.”
“It only ended up pushing you away,” Izzy concluded somberly. It appeared that both girls had been thinking about little else in the few years they had been apart. Ella had regretted every one of the times she had bailed on Izzy in their final days at university. She always reached out again to set up something new, but she would get cold feet and make up a poor excuse to get out of it.
Izzy had been very accommodating at the beginning of the destructive cycle, but over time started to try to guilt Ella into seeing her. The mutual debacle had only fostered bad blood between the two.
Izzy stood and pulled Ella onto her feet. She held Ella’s face and wiped the tears away from Ella’s eyes with her thumbs. The softness and warmth Ella saw on Izzy’s face put her racing heart at ease. Would everything go back to normal now she wondered. It appeared she had been forgiven. Ella didn’t think she would ever get this far.
“It’s good to have my best friend back,” Izzy said triumphantly. Ella concurred with a quick series of nods and a sniffled laugh.
The two walked together in silence for a few blocks before Izzy asked how Ella’s life had been since she dropped out of university. Ella readily took the chance to bitch about the lack of jobs and the recent fight with her fiancé. She said anything that she thought would return them to the old days.
In her haste, Ella didn’t notice the twinge of sadness that crossed Izzy’s face when she mentioned her fiancé. Their friendship was back, made only more evident by the return of jokes and banter that characterized the good days back at university. Ella then asked Izzy about campus life and how her most recent semester was going.
“I’m surviving,” Izzy said the exhaustion at the mention of school told Ella everything she needed to know. The recent increase in educational requirements for minorities compared to whites had sparked outrage across the urban cities of the country.
However, there was little to be done as the decade of upper-class bigotry and rural voter supremacy had left the country in a bad way when it came to immigration and minority status. Izzy had been determined to follow in her mother’s footsteps and become a top-performing nurse. Something her mother had been boastful of until the day her Leukemia caught up with her.
They continued to catch up and reminisce as they weaved their way into alleys and through gutted neighborhoods. This part of town had once been a vibrant working-class neighborhood but with jobs moving out of the heartland and to the coasts, it had fallen into disrepair. That effect was the pebble that caused an avalanche as people had abandoned their homes in search of work.
Now only the old remained, living off ever-decreasing stimulus checks. There was no fear of crime, criminals ignored the place as it lacked anything worth their time.
The roar of the mob and the screeching over a megaphone grew louder as they approached their drop locations. What had started as a distant noise barely audible between the thick rows of old buildings had grown into a cacophony of sound.
As they stepped out of an alley, they found themselves entangled in the mob. Ella took a quick look around and noticed an old brick building with a landing that extended a few feet up. It was the perfect spot to watch the distractions and subsequent fight between the dazed police and the Children of Liberty. She pointed it out to Izzy and they agreed to meet there once both had planted their bags.
Ella turned her head to look down the street and took in the number of people. There must be thousands she thought to herself. The alley had saved them quite a bit of time and energy as weaving through a crowd this dense from further back would have taken a lot more time. Ella’s attention focused on the police line that lay barely two hundred feet ahead.
The crowd was extremely agitated as tear gas which had been deployed minutes before had taken its toll. Those wearing gas masks had recovered the quickest and were now the vanguard of the brick-and-rock retaliation.
Izzy and Ella split, each making their way to the opposite side of the street. Ella noticed several heavily protected men dispersed through the crowd. They held back from the main clash but kept close tabs on the situation. Ella thought that they were the vanguard the mystery man had talked about.
The mob ebbed and flowed like waves on a beach. The police acted like a retaining wall to stop the crowd before it could overflow. In between the two lines was a no man’s land. The area was populated by individual protesters who rushed forward to throw items or taunt the police. Ella couldn’t decide if they were brave or foolish. She concluded that they were probably both.
The police line stomped forward and made steady progress; their reinforced shields protected them from most objects. Rocks bounced off the shields' translucent exteriors causing little damage.
The shield wall was forty to fifty shields wide. They extended the entire length of the road and most of the sidewalk. It was at least two ranks deep as the officers behind had raised their shields above the heads of the first row to safeguard the heads of both officers from debris.
Behind the impenetrable wall sat the silhouette of a black armored vehicle. It rose like a watch tower looming above the wall of officers. It was the command center of the city's forces for containing the riot.
On top of the armored vehicle sat the outline of a large person. Their body's true figure was concealed by the heavily padded riot gear. The voice that emanated from the armored car was deep and gruff. It grated against her ears in a way that highlighted its age rather than its confidence.
The figure was tall and stocky and Ella suspected he was chief of the 3rd precinct. She concluded it based on the number three plastered on the side of the armored truck. His face was covered in shadow but his silhouette was outlined perfectly by the raging flames from the cars ablaze behind him. A megaphone was in his hand and he continued to furiously shout orders.
“Forward now!” came the squawking from the megaphone. The line of shields moved forward one step. The voice repeated the same phrase and the shield wall moved forward another step.
A man broke from the crowd and rushed forward with a bottle in his hand. A bright orange flame licked the cloth that had been corked in its neck. He spun and threw the bottle in the style one would throw a shot put.
The bottle arced high as it spun in the air easily closing the distance between the man and the wall of translucent shields. The bottle shattered on contact. It splashed its contents across six or seven raised shields.
The liquid contents rose into a grand inferno, the flame reached for the sky. The wall of shields faltered as men and women reeled back from the heat. The liquid wormed into the cracks in between the shields and drenched several officers in the combusting fluid.
They were quickly dragged from the line. The flames licked the fronts and sides of their tactical uniforms. They writhed under the heat and their screams could scarcely be heard over the cheers and jeers of the crowd. A spray of white mist coated each officer as the fires were put out with hand-held fire extinguishers.
A thump came from behind the line of shields before the bottle’s thrower returned to the safety of the crowd. He had stayed rooted in place to see the results of his work. A small object rushed into the man’s forehead, and he crumpled into a heap upon the ground.
A spell was cast over both the mob and the line of police. Neither side made a move as time had frozen in place. All stared at the unconscious body that lay between the two lines. Seconds felt like hours as time seemed to lose all meaning in the eerie stillness.
As quickly as the spell manifested it broke. The police parted like the grand doors of an ancient fortress and spat forth a handful of officers to grab the unconscious man. At the same time, the whole crowd suddenly surged forward aimed at the line of police shields.
The spontaneous charge sent the retrieval party of officers scurrying back behind the shield wall as it braced for an attack. The surge had been a faint, coordinated to pull the unconscious man back before the group of officers could have done the same.
It took a concerted effort to pull the man back. He was large and exceptionally well-built. Ella expected as much from a clearly well-performing shotput thrower. In the blink of an eye, the mob had surged forward and receded back to their starting positions.
The quick reaction and the coordination shown by the crowd surprised Ella. She didn’t think mobs tended to be well organized and disciplined, they often devolved to the worst common denominator. So why was this group different?
Ella pondered the question as she continued to weave her way through the crowd. She struggled to avoid hitting anyone with her oversized backpack. A harder task than she had first surmised. She strained to avoid drawing attention towards herself.
The quicker she moved and the fewer heads she turned the less likely she would be noticed on security footage the next day. She stretched and contorted her body in what felt at times like a vain attempt to avoid contact with others. The progress had been slow but she had yet to bump into anyone.
She aimed to place the bag at the light post that was now no more than twenty paces in front of her. She was almost there. She would just have to place the bag so the police line couldn’t see it until the last minute.
After that, she would meet back up with Izzy. They had more to talk about and catch up on. The impending discussion about what their relationship would look like in the future had festered in her mind since the duo had split to place their bags.
A hissing noise and the feeling of water on her skin made Ella turn back in the direction of the police line. The water cannon shot forward; its powerful blast smashed into the ebbing crowd. A few people at the edge of the crowd took the water to the upper body and toppled to the ground.
The highly pressurized water continued forward unabated by those it had so easily flung off their feet. It began to hit people in the knees. The force flipped people on their backs as it swept their feet out from under them. An old man was toppled and hit the back of his head on the ground. A roar of anger shot from the crowd. The water was tainted a pink hue as it began to pool with the old man’s blood. Those who were still standing grabbed those toppled by the powerful blast and dragged them into the thoroughly dispersed mob.
“Shields!” a voice from the crowd shouted, which was picked up by others soon rising to a chorus of voices. A group stepped forward carrying a large piece of wood, which looked to be a piece of an old oak dining table.
They moved surprisingly quickly while lugging what Ella assumed to be an incredibly heavy piece of an oak table. Another group moved a similar table forward a little further to the left of the other group. Both groups placed their tables down in front of the mob while other members of the crowd moved forward to help the moving crew brace the tables in place.
The rest of the crowd funneled in behind the tables to take shelter from the water cannon. The crowd formed into two wedges protected by the large oak tables. The water smashed into the wood and shattered into mist. The tables did not budge, they seemed to shrug off the pressurized water as if it was no more than a light drizzle.
Ella now understood why the water cannons had not been in regular use. She was extremely impressed with the crowd’s ability to improvise solutions to the tactics of the police. The question of who had organized and kept the crowd in line continued to rack her mind.
The police blasted the tables for no more than a few minutes. The shield line had moved forward at least 20 more steps during the water and table standoff. Once it was apparent that the water cannons were out of water the crew then picked up the tables and lugged them back into the crowd.
Ella had made it to the lamp post. The consolidation of the protesters had left the sidewalks much less densely packed which had allowed her to make better time. She set her bag against the post and placed the GPS on the bag as the instructions stated. She looked at it for a second before turning on her heel and diving back through the crowded street and toward the large landing of the old brick building. She could already see Izzy waiting there.
Izzy scanned the crowd obviously looking for Ella instead of focusing on the important struggle between the protesters and the police. She clearly thought Ella wouldn’t show. Ella couldn’t blame her, it’s what she had done the last few times they had agreed to meet.
Ella looked back behind her as she heard a cheer rise from the crowd. There she saw a group of burly men and women surround a fire hydrant. Attached to the red structure was a large hose that extended twenty feet. The group shot water from the snake-like hose back at the line of shields.
Like how medieval walls of old were decimated by the power of cannons, the line of shields crumpled under the powerful blast of the improvised water cannon. The lack of cohesive stability left each officer to attempt to hold back the torrent by themselves.
It was impossible and one by one officers toppled backwards. The police line was thrown into disarray just as a hail of stones and bricks came flying into their lines. Barks of pain erupted from the disorganized shield wall.
Ella recalled that the local fire departments had organized a strike when the city had cut their budgets. The city funneled most of the money from the budget cuts to law enforcement to deal with the more frequent riots. Five weeks on from the beginning of the strike it appeared to her that some of the firefighters had decided to step up their tactics.
“Fire!” came a strong female voice from the tattered line of police. Several canisters arced over the heads of the disorganized shield wall. The canisters hit deep into the rioters’ lines expunging a green vapor that spread like fog across the whole street.
“Tear Gas!” came a roar from the crowd. The mob dispersed as many doubled over in fits of coughing. Protesters shrieked in pain as many were dragged back by others who were also struggling. The firefighter crew had skillfully unhooked and resealed the fire hydrant pulling the hose back to be used again at the next opportunity.
Ella had barely caught a whiff but was doubled over coughing and then vomiting up what remained of her hastily eaten dinner. She stumbled back blindly her eyes clogged with mucus as they began to swell. A hand wrapped itself around hers, its soft delicate skin and familiar tight grip gave her reassurance.
“This way Ella,” Izzy’s voice filled her mind, “Stay behind me.” Ella was yanked back as she continued to cough. Her lungs were on fire. She could barely breathe as she staggered forward. Ella jammed her eyes shut in an attempt to decrease any further damage that gas would do. She stumbled forward for what felt like miles but which was likely no more than a few hundred feet.
Ella was well out of the gas by the time the duo had stopped. Izzy poured water down her face. The cold liquid felt like a soothing kiss. It began to clear her vision and reduced the small amount of swelling.
“Breath bab…” Izzy trailed off. Her voice cracked slightly upon the realization of her miss speak.
“…Ella,” She quickly corrected. Ella found herself positioned against the wall of the brick building as her vision began to clear and her cough had begun to subside.
“Fuck that was awful,” Ella said as minor coughs punctuated her sentence.
“Yeah, I know,” Izzy replied, “those fucking pigs always turn it up a notch when they start to lose their semblance of control.”
Ella turned her attention back toward the ongoing battle. Ella’s concoction of fear mixed with enthusiasm shot adrenaline into her veins. The violence and unpredictability of the riot scared but also thrilled her. This is what it’s like to be a part of something that matters she thought to herself.
The police line had reformed and had moved well forward from where it was before. To Ella’s growing delight the line of officers had almost reached her bag. Her anticipation built as the world seemed to slow.
Ella made out a new figure, who must have replaced the man, on top of the armored truck. The figure was shorter and less stocky than the old gruff man who commanded before. She could not tell the gender of the person on the truck until a high-pitched but shrill voice shrieked across the wide street.
The voice was definitely that of a woman. She must have significant pull with the current administration to take over command of the third precinct mid operation Ella thought. She must be the recently appointed head of the riot division.
The riot division was a new group of officers built for tough action and were heavily disciplined. They were well-coordinated and highly adaptable. Considered the cream of the crop when it came to combative police units.
They spent most of their free time training, building endurance, and improving tactics for riot suppression. The unit was made up of mostly young men and women who were determined to be strong both mentally and physically. They were the only unit in the state that received this type of training and were ready to be deployed to any part of the state that required their service.
“Forward!” the female voice continued to screech over the megaphone. Step by step the line of officers inched forward now bolstered by the riot division. The number of officers swelled from around a hundred to triple that. The strength and rigidness of the shield wall increased exponentially.
Every few steps the shield wall would create openings for an officer behind to shoot beanbags at any rioter deemed to be a more serious threat. The most determined of the protesters began to drop like flies.
The mob couldn’t push this kind of line back, it was definitely over now. The thought sent a chill up Ella’s spine, what would happen to everyone who participated? Yet if she felt fear it seemed like no one else in the mob did. They continued to throw stones in an attempt to hold up the police line, but it seemed to have no effect on the riot division.
A flicker of movement in the corner of her eye caught Ella’s attention. She turned her head to see numerous people packed together in an alley. They wore all black from head to toe, and their faces were covered by white masks.
Etched onto the masks was the same grim face as from the meeting room. They sat crouched or braced against the wall as if prepared for something big. Ella’s stomach dropped as she snapped her head back to her bag which lay a few steps behind the wall of shields.
A large bright light appeared in her peripheral vision shortly followed by a deafening explosion. However, Ella’s eyes remained glued to where her bag sat. She saw the distorted spark emanate from the bag through the semi-transparent shields of the police officers.
The explosion from her bag vaporized several of the closest officers, nothing but chunks would ever be located and returned to their families. Those not lucky enough to be vaporized on the spot were sent flying. Body parts detached as they crashed into objects in their surroundings.
It was over in a flash, but for Ella, that flash lasted what felt like a lifetime. She witnessed the carnage in excruciating detail. Heads separated from bodies as parts of shields sliced through the perfectly contiguous line of officers. The foot of an officer lit into a glorious blaze was launched 70 feet into the air. It came to rest on top of a roof thirty feet from where it had been forcefully detached.
The scenes of carnage would no doubt haunt Ella for the rest of her life. They would play back on loops to her near nightly for a long time after this one horrible night would fade into the milieu of increasingly horrible nights. The explosion knocked her backwards into the wall and she crumpled to the ground. Only faintly did she notice the screams that emanated from her mouth.
Something hit her in the temple and dropped into her lap. The impact had dazed her as the object had rocketed right toward her forehead with considerable speed.
She looked down slowly. In her lap lay a finger stained with explosive burns and residue. Its discolored purplish hue and bloody end were all Ella could focus on until a glint of light caught her eye. Near the base of the finger slotted perfectly into place was a golden wedding ring. It reminded her of something. Her dazed mind took a second to register. It was the same kind of ring she had slid on her fiancé's finger three months earlier.
Panic overwhelmed her mind as she realized she had just murdered someone’s husband, lover, maybe even father. She had just murdered dozens of people with families and loved ones of their own. Her vision began to blur as her mind was filled by the horror of the act she had unwittingly committed.
She looked up, the group of black-clad fighters rushed forward from behind the alley and streamed into what a few minutes before was a line of police officers. Ella only saw them rush past as she continued to scream. Izzy had grabbed her by now and attempted to pull her up, but Ella was not going anywhere. Her vision went from blurry to dim as she lost consciousness. The final thing to lodge itself in her mind was Izzy’s screams and an ever-increasing urge to run.