The Wild Ones

First place winner of the september crime competition. Peter and Mary, just two people out of the millions that dwell in an overpopulated, overly controlled city. Forced daily to escape arrest just for the crime of wanting to be free. When a city is dying, from pollution and drought, why fight to stay alive when everyone and everything wants you dead? The stubbornness of mankind is our greatest weakness, and our most powerful asset.


4. Planning

Days melted into one another. The pure white, cramped room was secured away from known time and space, it was in another dimension as such that the two held fugitives lived. What little food that there was given was done so at random intervals, sometimes only a few hours apart, sometime much longer, making judging day and night impossible. Peter had known of the Empyreans methods into obtaining information but never experienced it himself, those that made it out alive became changed men, they were left broken, mentally and physically.

Together in their cell Peter and Toptom got to know each other better, there was nothing else to do but talk and swap stories, and Toptom had a lot of stories.

"This one time in Kasama, in Zambia," he began glossed eyed, "I met a girl called Uriko, a real bakvissie"

"Pretty name," Peter laughed as he lay, his back resting against the bright wall facing his new friend.

"She had a body to make up for it I tell you. Anyway, I met her in a refugee camp a kilo-meter or so south of the city, I had been there for a couple of weeks yah? Looking for a friendly face of sorts. She walked up to me in a shebeen. That's a bar in your tounge." He added judged by Peter's confusion at the new word. "She offered me a drink, I accepted," he smiled, reliving the memory as purely now as it was at the time. "We stayed up until sunrise drinking rum under a mukwa tree, she had such a way of looking at things. Then we gefokked, you know this word?"

"If it's what I think it is then you don't need to say anymore. What happened to her?" Peter enquired, dreading the answer, happy stories never last as long as you'd like.

"I don't know," he said solemnly, "I left the camp that morning, I heard from some people that the refugee camp was attacked a week or so later, she might had made it out, might not. She'll be waiting for me though, in the afterlife. Something to look forward to after this is all finished with."

They sat in silence for a moment, reminiscing their own great stories. "What is Africa like?" Peter asked, not wanting to break the mood but needing to know more than anything.

"Paradise my friend, though it was. Zion, last free place on Earth; streets filled with happy people of all types, of all nationalities, living together. A whole town yah? Armed by humans, protecting humans, like in the old days, like how it should be. They would come like, the Empyrean, and attack; but we stood strong, we fought! Not like here, people standing in queues and doing as instructed. And for what? To stand in more queues? They've given up, they've all given up and its a waste. NAAFI's, all of them. I'm still fighting, even in here I'm fighting, planning, plotting. I have my plan to get back at them, one last act. You need one too."

"You have a plan? How can we even escape this place?"

"Escape? Me? You underestimate me," Toptom continued, "luckily so did the Empyrean, you think I was in Tanzania sight seeing? No man, was all part of my plan. Their mines are powerful but they aren't well hidden, nor are they hard to defuse and bought on the black market." Toptom smiled and reached into his mouth, deep inside his throat he pulled out a thin wire, attached to it was a small electronic device, about the size of a small tangerine.

"Holy shit!" Peter couldn't help keeping his voice down, he creept closer to Toptom and spoke in a low tone, "You going to use that?"

"Well I didn't hide it away to look at it, once they try to interrogate me, BOOM! Then I'll see my beautiful Uriko again."

Another silence gripped the stale bright room, each of them keeping to their own thoughts, Toptom planned his great exit and Peter planned his.

"You have much yet to give boet, more life to be lived. I have lived much and loved more, I have my scars, inside and out," Toptom said, his final chapter edging closer bringing with it an odd acceptance. "They will take me first, I have been here long enough. When they come, do not fight do not even look at me. Once the door closes I will set it off. You get out, find the girl and get out. The chaos will be good enough cover." Peter tried to protest but Toptom merely waved away his words. "This is how it is Peter, how it should be, you have as much to live for as I do to die for. I've lived a good life while yours is still only beginning. Promise me one thing." Their eyes met, as if he was giving Peter something very dear to him, "tell the others, 'even gods can bleed.'"

That was all he would say, and all that he said for he spoke no more. He kept quiet, kept to himself and prayed.

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