Steven

When I saw Cory, I didn't recognize her. This was six years after she had run away.

In the meantime, I had graduated high school and joined the police force. It was the only force in Easternport that wasn't trying to annihilate everyone. There weren't too many other jobs available, anyway unless you went south and became a fish at the docks. But since the Jaggars controlled that area, it was assumed that all the dock workers—fish—worked for them. And I'd be damned if I ever got pulled into that mess. Jaggars were ruthless.

Most places in Center City had shut down and nearly half the city was out of work and scratching for food in the dark since electricity was scarce.

I had married Amanda. She worked as a record's keeper down at the harbor which made her a mud skipper. She insisted that she had no connection to the Jaggars and had never even seen anything suspicious, but I didn't like it. Still, between the two of us, we were able to make enough to live on and that was a blessing.

The time I saw Cory again, I was caught in the middle of a firefight on the fault line between the Underground-controlled North and the Serpent-controlled center.

I wasn't supposed to be in the Fault, but I honestly didn't realize where I was. It was my first year as a police officer. I had been chasing down a boyish looking thief who had something tucked under his arm. He had jumped out of an already broken window several blocks from the Fault (the city blocks that separated the Underground controlled north and the Serpent controlled center) and ran like a bullet down the street. A man came running after him screaming that he had stolen his bread. So, I headed after the boy.

Before I knew it, I had run into a group of Underground soldiers, dressed in brown and gold, pointing guns at me. I put my hands up in a show of nonviolence, but before they could decide to accept the treaty or not, we all found ourselves being fired on by another army behind them.

I took cover in the building closest to me. (This was the North End. All the buildings were abandoned and most of them had gaping holes in them.) The Underground joined me there. While they worked out their plan of defense, I looked for a way out of the Fault. I scrambled for the back door of the building and had to give it a couple of hard shoves before it finally gave. To my dismay, it opened in the faces of several Serpent soldiers dressed in gray. They pointed their guns at my heart, but didn't fire. One look at my badge and the terror on my face, and they knew I wasn't worth the waste of bullets. They pushed me aside and rushed in to surround the Underground. Behind them followed a very small soldier with a black pony-tale sticking out under her helmet.

That was Cory. But I didn't know. I hurried out of there as fast as I could.

I got out of the Fault and was back near Center City when the North-End subway station collapsed. I looked at the sky, thinking I heard thunder. But the sky was spotless. Someone near me pointed North and I turned to see the smoke rising up from somewhere near the Fault. All I thought was, "I'm glad I got out of there when I did."

The lady who had pointed out the smoke said, "That looks a lot worse than usual."

I only nodded; perhaps still recovering from having so many guns pointed at me in one day. Here, in Center City, I had some control over things. People respected the badge in this area. Even though the Serpents claimed the territory as their own, we rarely saw them. They kept to themselves and the fighting stayed near the Fault.

In this part of town, the police kept the community from falling further into anarchy. The police department heads were treated like mayors. Police officers were peace keepers. At that point, I had only ever pulled my gun once. And that was because a rabid raccoon had jumped at me from out of a trashcan. Scared the crap out of me. What I was ever doing so near the Fault is beyond me.

The lady and I shrugged off the smoke. We were living next to a war-zone, after all. Smoke, distant gun fire, and minor explosions were common. It wasn't until the next day that we learned what had happened.

The following afternoon, River Street was interrupted by the entire Serpent army. I was off that day. But I saw it on the news. Easternport still had one, working TV station that did nothing but city-wide updates on a loop. Amanda and I were one of the lucky few with a gasoline generator in our house. We didn't run it constantly. Just enough to keep meat from spoiling in the fridge and get an update on the TV at least once a day.

The army marched up River Street, turned at Main, and continued marching all the way up to the capital building which had been empty for over a decade. No one said a thing or made a noise. Cars pulled out of the way and pedestrians just gawked. No one knew for sure what this meant, but we could guess. The Serpents had won the war in the north. The Underground was defeated. And now we were all going to be subject to this unholy gang. Every citizen of Easternport trembled in fear. Amanda cried.

And then I saw her again. And I very nearly recognized her. She was standing on the steps of the capital building, looking out over the army that was marching right in through the front door. The camera focused on her for longer than a moment. She was the odd one out—small, young, and not wearing a matching uniform. All she had on was a black T and jeans, and a white band around her right arm. But she carried her gun like the rest, and her posture suggested that she was supposed to be there.

Amanda was looking hard at her, too. Maybe the whole city was. But no one knew her. The camera panned across the scene and then zoomed out for the broader view of several hundred men being swallowed by the long abandoned capital building.

It was a solemn day in Easternport. Everything closed early and everyone disappeared into their homes.

Our neighbors came over. They usually came by to ask for a small space in our fridge to keep their meat, or for just a little while with lights to read a book at night. This night, they came to see the news report, which replayed the whole event. Our neighbors asked if I knew what would happen next. I didn't. I had been to the police station to see if they knew anything there, and they didn't. Gaping mouths, shaking heads, and shrugging shoulders were all I found in the department.

No one knew what to say. No one knew how to feel. We were trapped between mourning for our relative safety and freedom that we had just lost, and dread for what might be coming. It wasn't the same as panic. In panic, you scramble for something to do. In this dread, all we could do was sit and wait. On the news, they called it Doomsday. That seemed fitting.

"We need to leave town," Amanda told me after our neighbors left. We talked by candlelight to save gasoline. "We can't stay here anymore!" This was panic. My wife was panicking. Her eyes teared up and shone in the candle light. She leaned back in her chair to hide her crying in the shadows, but I could still see her eyelashes flutter frantically.

I wasn't panicking, but it certainly wasn't because of any courage or assurance. I just didn't see any point in panic. There was no way out of town. Not legally, anyway. All of Easternport was sealed off from the motherland. Anyone caught crossing the border fence was thrown back.

"We have to try!" Amanda said through a few silent sobs.

I didn't even know how to try. Climbing the fence? With our belongings slung over our shoulders? We'd be caught before we reached the top. And what happens if we get to the other side? Our Easternport accent was a dead give-away. We wouldn't be able to talk without getting arrested and thrown back.

I shook my head. Easternport turmoil was all I knew. And I was comfortable with it, to some extent. Maybe that's the wrong word. I was used to it. Trying to run away from my only home to hide in a land governed so differently was not what I wanted. I wanted to stay. We'd ride it out. If the Serpents had any brains, they'd be generous with us. Otherwise, they wouldn't have much left to rule over. A dead city doesn't do anyone any good.