The End of All Things

5. One Hundred Percent Off

KANE

"This is insane!"

Acrid smoke burns my throat and I know tears are streaming from my eyes, the stupid bandana tied over my mouth and nose is doing nothing to filter the hazy air. I turn my head to Jay, making sure that he's not getting behind. 

"You're not wrong," he puffs in response to Brice's jovial exclamation, skipping a few paces to try and keep up.

I can't take a step without my foot crunching on glass, it sounds like we're walking over a lake of ice. Of cause, the glass snapping sounds are drowned out by all the hype around us. Mass hysteria inflames the streets of the city, probably most cities across the country, if not the world. I've never heard of riots like this in America before and I couldn't be happier, I'm going to live through the most historic event of the modern age...

Three rapid gunshots make everyone on the street duck instinctively, but it's nothing close, so we resume our walk.

Maybe I'm just going to be one of the many who die during 'the most historic event of the modern age'.

We come up to the nearest source of smoke, an upturned cop car. Its siren is still going, but it sounds more like a dying cat than anything. Someone has pulled out the dead officers, they lie at funny angles next to the car, along with another man with a few bullet holes in his un-moving chest.

A group of collage age guys run past us in the opposite direction with bags dangling from their arms, howling like they're at a keg party. They don't give the Police car a second glance.

The wheels on the shopping cart Brice is pushing rattles over the road debris and I glance at our findings so far. Boxes of the newest smartphones, some jewellery, and wads of cash grabbed from shop registers sit on the top. There's a lot of useless crap, really, but it'll make a pretty buck sold online in a few weeks. Plus, my brand new limited edition sneakers are pretty comfortable, and I can't make any complaints about my new jacket either.

"How 'bout in there?" Brice points lazily with his baseball bat to a stream of people storming a high-rise shopping centre, having only just broken through the double doors. I can see the security guards drowning in the sea of rabid 'shoppers' as they pour through.

"Looks like they're having a sale," I mutter, "maybe pass that one up." I scan the street and eye up a jewellers shop the next block along. "I call that one," I point, "you two wait here and guard the cart, I'll do a quick smash and grab." People are jumping in and out of the store's window after having ripped down the metal guard, leaving with arms full and pockets stuffed. It's still ripe for the picking.

Brice rolls his eyes, "aye aye, captain."

"Be quick, Kane," Jay calls after me as I jog away and I smile slightly to myself. He just wanted to get out of the city straight after the bombing, but no way was I going to pass up an opportunity like this.

There's a booming sound of someone on a megaphone echoing off the buildings, National Guard probably. I guess we shouldn't hang around for much longer.

My leisurely jog ends and I wait for a woman who's struggling with her full bag of stolen goods to get out of the way before I duck through the window. People have been quick, half the merchandise is already gone after a few minutes. I make my way to the watches, I've been saving up for a decent one but seeing this expensive array in front of me, I'm glad I didn't blow my money before the riot of a century. I pick out a few and shove them in my pack, slipping one on my wrist. It's black leather with a silver, digital face. Not the fanciest of the ones I grab, but I reckon it looks badass. Moving on, I snatch a bunch of rings and bracelets, aiming for whatever has the biggest rocks.

It's not a massive shop and soon gets too congested for my liking, so I head back out the window before anyone turns to me instead of the emptying display cases. Outside the light is dimming, and the bright orange flares of hundreds of fires are reflected in the tall buildings above me. I pull my bandana back up over my face, pulling the knot tighter into my thick hair as I take long strides in the direction of Brice and Jay. I can see them in the distance. Brice alone can defend our stash, his height and muscle mass makes even me look slight in comparison. Jay looks intimidating too, I guess, with his bulky Polynesian features. If he didn't act so skittish all the time maybe Brice and I wouldn't have had to defend him from bullies during our years at school together.

A fresh wave of shouts and screams rolls toward me, coming from the left of the intersection I'm approaching. Trucks roll toward where I'm standing, so I back onto the sidewalk. It's the National Guard I heard earlier, must be trying to clear the streets. Honestly, I don't know why they'd bother at this point, better to just let the people get it out of their systems. Hell, when are we going to get another chance to blatantly defy the law?

A crowd has swelled around me, shouting slurs and tossing whatever they can get their hands on at the approaching vehicles. Either side of the convoy march cops and soldiers in full riot gear. This shit is intense. Bodies shove past me and I pull the straps on my pack a little tighter, least someone dare try to pry it from me.

"You reckon we can take the pigs on?" Some guy nudges me and it takes a second before I register that it was intentional.

"Well, they've got shields, gas masks, and military rifles. Obviously that's no match against our screaming and stone throwing."

I can't see his face behind the ski mask he's wearing, but his eyes narrow at me and I snicker in response, pushing my way through the rioters before he decides to take a swing at me.

"Vacate the premises immediately, your refusal will mean your arrest! If you refuse to cooperate we will be forced to use physical force..." The droning megaphone voice echoes between the buildings as the marching soldiers get closer. I need to cross the road before they block off the intersection.

"Hey."

"Look dude, I'm kind of busy," I say, turning back to who I assume is ski mask guy, but before I even see whether or not it is, a fist slams into my face. Pain erupts in my nose and blood immediately rushes from my nostrils. "Jeeeesus Christ!" I gasp, pulling the bandana off my face as blood soaks it. My eyes are stinging with tears I refuse to shed and I'm yanked backwards as someone undoes the zip on my bag. I hear the rattling of the jewellery before I see it, so does everyone else apparently. There's people on their knees all around me almost instantly – which I'm usually a fan of – scooping up my loot and trying to pull more from my bag. I duck away, swinging the bag in front of me before they can get at my new Calvin Kleins, and charge from the rabble.

I slam into something solid a second after I emerge, stumbling back away from it. Hastily wiping my watery eyes I stare into the face of a National Guard. Well, not their face exactly, but the tinted eye protection of their gas mask from the other side of the large fibre glass shield. Time seems to slow, blood dripping from my chin, standing between the now quiet looters and the solid wall of riot police. Everyone seems to have their focus on me. I'm not making a stand, you idiots!

My eyes shift above their masked faces, far behind them I can see Jay from the shoulders up, he must be standing on something. Judging by the terror evident on his face; he can see me too.

"Run!" I shout as loud as I can, and he swiftly nods in reply. If there's still a chance for them to getaway now, they should take it.

The rioters behind me take my word as an order to attack the police, charging forward with a wild roar. I crane my neck as they surge around me, Jay's gone. Hopefully he and Brice escape the streets, before-

CRACK! A police batten slams my jaw, splitting the skin and adding to my already bloody face. It had come out of no where and withdraws just as quickly. Furious and in immense pain, I fight my way back the way I had come, away from the line of cops as they begin firing canisters of tear gas into the crowd.

Today is not my day.

A/N

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