“A shiver just ran right down my spine.”
“Mine too,” Austin agreed, feeling the same apprehension that Samuel did. “I wasn’t expecting this.”
“Me neither,” Samuel shook his head. “Let’s get going. I don’t want anyone to recognize me and start asking questions.”
The possibility of being identified as the man who had informed the world that their money had vanished was not something that Samuel had forgotten about. He kept his head down as they walked, glancing down side streets and alleyways in case there was anyone lying in wait. He knew it was highly unlikely, but he couldn’t avoid the idea that there would still be someone from that very first mob who had chased him waiting for him to show himself again.
Shouting and banging sounded off down almost every street. The two of them needed to cut a path across the city eventually, but both were frightened about walking into the thick of it. They turned back on one occasion at the sound of gunfire, both men ducking down where they stood.
“Which way should we go?” Austin whispered.
“Down here,” Samuel guided the pair of them, turning left but then stopping immediately. At the end of the street there was an overturned SUV lying motionless in the street, a tiny plume of smoke rising from underneath the hood. The vehicle didn’t look to have crashed into anything, lying dead center in the road without anything in its path. It was crumpled beyond belief though, suggesting to Samuel that it had rolled over quite a few times before ending up where it was now.
“Whoa – what happened there?”
“I don’t know,” Samuel answered as they walked toward the wreckage, equal parts confused, intrigued and unnerved by the incident. “It doesn’t look like it happened that long ago.”
“Careful!” Austin remarked as Samuel reached out to touch the framework of the car, causing him to jump back and look around in shock.
“What?”
“It might be dangerous. Look,” Austin drew Samuel’s attention back to the smoke that was rising from the hood. “Something’s on fire under there.”
Heeding Austin’s warning, Samuel kept his hands to himself. It was odd seeing the SUV in this position though. The fact no one was around or – thankfully – left in the vehicle made him feel on edge. The city was certainly alive around them, so why was this specific area so quiet?
“Come on, let’s keep going.”
“Yeah, okay. We’re going to have to face the music now.”
Fearfully, the two men started to walk towards the sound of people. They had watched the riots and protests evolve over the last few days, and heard about the public’s anger switching from Trident to the government, demanding that their city provide more to help keep the people alive. Samuel’s neighbors from upstairs had knocked on his door once more as they came back from scavenging the city for supplies, passing on relevant information and updating them both on the city.
They had learned how foodbanks had tried to open, a welcome savior to those in need like Samuel’s neighbors, but they had very quickly been overrun by demand and forced to close their doors or, in some cases, be taken over by the public. The demand was just too high for the supply. It was easy to figure out there was nothing coming in from elsewhere, no additional manpower, no resources, no aid to speak of. The early morning traffic wasn’t dominated by delivery trucks and large vehicles, in fact there was practically no traffic to speak of left. That was another thing the two men had observed, the use of transport getting less and less likely as less fuel became available. It hindered their chances of finding a working vehicle, but they were both still determined to try.
Austin was ready for the challenge, but he wondered whether Samuel was truly up for it. New Yorkers weren’t used to fending for themselves in such a manner; they preferred the easy life where things were handed to them on a plate and they didn’t have to know where that plate was coming from. Samuel was the perfect example of that with his privileged upbringing and high-paying job. But things had changed now and much like everyone else, he was going to have to adapt and get used to it before it was too late.
Roughly a hundred people rallied in the streets, Samuel and Austin approaching the riot with caution. It was one of the foodbanks that they were trying to force their way into, the soup kitchen like many others likely shut down by a selfish group of New Yorkers who had thought to take it all for themselves. Angry protesters hammered against the doors and shouted to be let in. Many brandished anything that could be deemed threatening—from very real weapons like crowbars and baseball bats to broken pieces of scrap metal, splintered wood and even their own shoes. Samuel and Austin were very quickly swept into the middle of it.
“Get out here and fight us you cowards!”
“We have as much right to this as you do! Let us in!”
“Back off!” Voices carried from behind the metal shutters, proof that people were in fact trapped – or shut away by their own means – inside. “Go find your own place!”
“Arrghhh!”
A cry of anguish burst through the crowd as someone barreled forward, throwing their shoulder into the metal shutters and sending a tremor through them. Samuel winced immediately as others cheered around him. The mob surging forward, those at the front smashing into the shutters as well.
“We’ve got to get out of here,” Samuel muttered, hoping that Austin could hear him over the noise. He was still scared of being recognized, trying to keep his head down but struggling as he was thrown about in the sea of bodies.
