I Am A Flyer

Gamble

Jett ran into a strange, strange place. Unbelievable buildings made of metal and concrete shot up into the sky, each topped with a huge chimney. Thick, acrid, black smoke poured out of these chimneys, polluting the air and sky with their filth. Smaller, flatter buildings lay here and there, connected with steel bridges. There were vehicles parked beside them as well.

Jett gaped, taking in everything with wide eyes. What an amazing place! And the trucks! Vehicles! His mother had told him all about big cities, with real cars and trucks that people would ride in, and how the buildings were so big and strong!

Excited, he ran to the nearest vehicle - a big, white truck. Standing on tip-toe, he was barely able to peer into the tinted window. At this angle, he was unable to see through the darkened window, no matter how he tried. Even when he pressed his face right against the window, all he could make out were dark shadows.

He pulled away, and looked about in awe. This truly was an amazing place! It was so different, and so much bigger when compared to the little grass hut that was his home. Although...it was kinda dirty and noisy. Jett liked the peaceful and clean nature that surrounded his hut much more than this filthy place. But still...it was new and exciting!

Going to another white truck., he was delighted to see that this one didn't possess tinted windows. So it was quite easy to see inside, and gape at all the interesting things that the truck had. He looked and looked and looked, like a hungry man who couldn't get enough food.

"Hey! Get away from there!" A sudden angry shout made Jett freeze in place, like a guilty thief. From the sounds of it, there was one mean, angry man standing somewhere behind him. "Who are you, anyway?" The man demanded angrily. "No one's allowed to be here!"

Gulping down a large lump of fear, Jett timidly peeked over his right shoulder. A stout man in dirty, white overalls stood in an open doorway, at one of the smaller, flat buildings. His puffy face was red with anger.

"Just what do you think you're doing, huh?" Jett flinched at the man's growl. "Think you can just steal whatever you see, huh? I'll teach you, you little punk!" The stout man began to stalk towards Jett, his fists shaking with his rage.

"Ah..." Jett turned around, and held out his hands, trying to show the man that he wasn't up to anything bad. Maybe if the man in the coveralls saw that he was just a kid, he'd stop being so angry.

So he hoped.

The man suddenly stopped in his tracks, his attention riveted to Jett's face. All anger and fierce intent seemed to drain away, only to be replaced by horror. "What the - ?" He exclaimed in shock. "Y - you! You're one of them!"

Jett could only gape, completely confused, and stunned. He watched as the man began to back up, stammering as he did so. "G-get out of here," the man fearfully yelled, "Just. . .just get out! Go back to where you came from, you. . .you monster!" The man reached the open doorway, and after hurrying inside, he slammed the door shut.

It left Jett standing in stunned silence, wondering what was going on. Why had that man reacted like that? It wasn't like he knew Jett from before, and he definitely wasn't from the village. So why?

His face.

It was the only answer, because the man had merely been threatening until Jett had turned around. Then, when he had seen Jett's face, his attitude had suddenly changed. Jett's hand drifted up, and his fingers lightly touched the mark on his cheek.

Nibran's words came floating back to him.

"The mark. . . .shows who your master is."

"Are you Gray's?"

"We are monsters, creatures they shun and hate and fear. They want nothing to do with us flyers."

Everything - everything that had happened, everything that was happening - it all came back to the black mark tattooed onto his cheek. It was like a huge sign that loudly declared that Jett was a part of Troit.

He gritted his teeth angrily. This whole thing was stupid. Troit had no right. . .! Because of their silly mark, he was hated and feared by people! He didn't want this! He didn't ask for it, either! All he wanted, was just to live a quiet, peaceful life in his hut, by the Putarc forest. He just wanted the villagers to leave him alone, he wanted the stupid Troit flyers to forget about him and just go away!!

Calm down, calm down, he told himself. Anger isn't going to help you think. He took in a deep breath, and exhaled slowly, forcing his nerves to relax.

Now, let's figure things out. First, you need to cover your face, so people won't see it. That was easy, because there were piles of garbage almost everywhere. It didn't take Jett long to find a somewhat- clean white rag. He tore it up carefully, so it made a kind of scarf, which he tied around the lower half of his face. It covered up the mark, and left him able to see. Perfect.

Now, he just needed to figure out where to go from here. Again, his answer wasn't far off. Probably because it was the only choice left open to him.

A paved pathway led from the industrial buildings straight out into the rocky land, stretching on and on to who-knows-where. It was a road. And as far as he knew, all roads eventually led to some kind of civilization. Hopefully a city of sorts.

So, as the last of daylight began to fade from the horizon, he began to run once more. He followed the road, digging deep into his reserves of energy to somehow find the strength to keep going, because this was a gamble.

It all was a gamble, because he didn't know where the road would take him. He could only hope that it would lead to his freedom. And so he ran.