I want to turn back.

She already had doubts brewing from the jump; she couldn’t deny that. But now that she was in the actual scene—where sounds boomed from every side—the weight of her long overdue decision crashed her down to the car floor.

Damn it. Damn it. Damn it.

Authority’s eyes peered into a car. Even under the freezing gazes, further aided by their incomprehensible scolding of the person who dangled this opportunity in front of her, chills slithered down her thin spine. It was almost as if they were getting pulled over.

For what crime? That was obvious. But her mind flickered to the endless list of malicious actions they could do, some straying far from reality when considering the unreal state of the world. No matter what she thought of, her hands trembled around her cane as if cold blood drenched her palms.

She hugged the cane as the overlapping shouts outside surged.

Sin. What… What did… What did I just get myself into?

But it was her choice, right? She saw the text. She processed it. Then she accepted it.

The words ‘skid row’ should’ve raised her eyebrow and capitalized the text. Though here she was, listening to the two men in the same boat as her swamp the window, gawking and gossiping about the ensuing chaos outside.

“They better let us through!”

Benedict was recording.

“Yeah, I don’t think they will actu—”

“The man’s spittin’ though—”

“I wouldn’t take Theta seriously if I was the captain—”

“Same, same, not gonna lie!”

“Yeah.”

Her resolve shook with the car. And once again, she was the outcast. She almost wondered if she were the only human within the vehicle. But that would be lying to herself, thinking that her purple skin was the rich olive she loved. And there was one thing she wasn’t, regardless of how much she wished for fallacies to come true.

She wasn’t a liar. At least, that’s what she thought. The truth was the only way she progressed in life; she would lead herself astray without its guidance. Yet, her sides cringed in pain as silence fell onto the group outside, a dominant voice taking over as if to slam an iron fist on them and get them arrested. This should’ve been expected. The truth should always be expected. But it hurt. It stung.

Everything new—the radiation, the city, her broken life—hurt her. Nothing was like it were anymore, and she didn’t quite know what to expect.

And then the dominant voice came in again, forcing her bile to bubble in the pits of her stomach. She clung tighter to the cane as the air and her blood ran cold. Yellow-bellied, she attempted to disappear again, shivering with the car.

Then, the two men let out a belly laugh.

“Hey—lesgo!”

“Miss Cosima, hurry up!”

Before she could react, the men did what she couldn’t and vanished; the car door slammed shut in a heartbeat.

“Wait… the fu—”

An uproar occurred alongside a stampede of footsteps approaching her side of the car. She froze, finding no strength to scramble away. The door flung open.

“Cosima!” Theta’s burly figure rose and fell as if he ran a marathon. “Wanna come?”

She stammered.

“Quick, quick, quick! No time, no time!”

“Uh… Uh—”

“Come on—quick! Just say what you want—quick, quick!”

Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

The pressure crumpled her.

But she nodded hesitantly to escape from it, her nod not finishing a second time as Theta’s hands overwhelmed her.

And soon enough, she was in Theta’s arms.

“You’re extremely light!”

Why did I accept?

“Ugh, they’re getting a headstart!” Theta burst into a weighty run.

The hell am I doing?

Theta swerved past police cars and the three officers, who shouted at the departing party.

“Captain!”

“You can’t just take civilians like that!”

“It’s not safe!”

“The blame will fall all on me, don’t worry!” The captain’s voice rang from afar, which became closer as they neared the source. “I’ll protect them!”

Cosima’s scrambled mind heard faint groaning from the officers left behind. But maybe it was hers, failing to interpret the lightning pace of the world around her.

Arguably, the car felt like a haven. It was temporary, but at the moment—especially in the area they were in—it kept her safe.

But now, she was out in the open. Her true feelings, however, didn’t come with her.

They had somehow caught up to the party, throwing caution to the wind.

“I can’t believe we actually got this chance!” Benedict giggled in his loud whisper. “We are helping the police—we are ‘effin helping the police!”

“I know!” Theta said, not even restraining himself. “I’m happy to help the incompe—”

“I hope you realize the consequences of going into this district!” The captain shouted to them, clearly exhausted. “Keep all your eyes peeled for mobs! People have randomly gone mad here!”

“Oh, we know! We’ll be fine—by the way, this isn’t all that surprising! It—”

“Well, at least you’re passionate to help—however, what can you do?”

Cosiima felt Theta's shoulders drop slightly. He blew a small raspberry.

“Well, I already mentioned the firepower the two minions running here have!”

His gaze fell onto her.

“The li’l baby here will hopefully vomit something strong!”

What…

“And me?” Theta laughed awkwardly. “The loud noises and smells are irritating the hell out of me!”

“The heightened senses will help—”

“You didn’t have to say that! Better instincts are definitely the best power one could ask for!”

“Baby? Wait!” It was the lieutenant this time. “Why do you have that person in your arms?”

Huh?

“Hilario, what—”

“The man has a person in their arms! They look sickly!”

Oh…

“Oh! Just a friend—”

“They don’t look like a healthy one—why did you bring them?”

“Screw me—we don’t have time for this—”

“We have to make time for it, Gid! The person shouldn’t be here!”

“Well, we can’t turn back now—think about our situation!”

“We should probs turn left at this next intersection! I have a really good feeling so—”

“It’s on you if that person in your arms gets hurt!” The captain’s voice had gone drier. “I’d have thought it was common sense to leave them behind and safe with my men!”

“She’ll be fine! She’s in good hands!”

“I hope—”

“Watch out, by the way!”

“Huh—”

A mutated gang of people manifested from behind a building. Blood-soaked and bloodthirsty, they lashed out at the shocked party with barrages of jabs, blasts, and shouts.

“Incapacitate them!”

It all felt like whiplash. Only when the first nearby explosion boomed did she truly grasp her position. She lay in a grown man’s arms as he parried incoming blows with little difficulty than she expected. Then—beyond her expectations—she could vaguely make out Benedict scrubbing his palms together and Harsh breathing out flames, standing their ground with the two SDD officers. And these were the same people giggling in the car as if they were giddy teens who didn’t know better.

But she knew nothing better, her view shifting to the aurora above as Theta shifted her. Everything around her was dark and unrecognizable; every sense she had dulled from the constant movement.

The bile rose again. But she couldn’t run. Her life was on autopilot, governed by someone else’s competence. The man’s grip was tight. The aurora was distracting. Her body was breaking.

What’s… happening?

Orders flew around. More running. Mob fights around every corner.

I don’t want to die… I don’t want to die…

Punches. Pushes. Fire.

I don’t want to die… Please…

Move. Fight. Move. Fight. Move. Fight.

She fought off the rise in her stomach to no avail, being her first fight ever since she became a part of the party. But thinking that she was a part of something was wrong.

How could she be considered a part of something if she didn’t even have control over herself? She wasn’t a cornerstone at that moment, and all she could do was watch the light above all the madness around her.

Damn it.

The lights were stronger than her. They colored her, sapped her life away, and molded her to fit their ideals. She had no strength above them as they made her.

Damn it.

All she could do was lie in defeat and lose herself to the higher powers—the merciless nature she was used to.

Damn it.

But as much as she damned it, all she could do was look up past the scruffy beard of her carrier and long for what power lay beyond her. She almost forgot why she even accepted the offer to come, but the looming reminder irked her to no end.

What was the point of it all? Where was her gain? When could she control her situation?

She hated asking questions when she could just act on what she wanted like she used to.

The rapid movements shook her, forcing a yearning energy from her stomach closer and closer to the surface. It wanted to let loose. It wanted to rage. It wanted to explode.

So—without a lick of authority—she let one lucrative desire roam free as the first stream of mucus ran from her chapped lips in a painful cough.

Another turning point.

I want to turn back.