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Part 5
I walk through Seattle, taking in all the junk that’s piled up on the streets. I still haven’t gotten used to the state of this city, the dirt, the poverty. It’s so different from Roswell. Even with the pulse my hometown stayed clean and organized. We don’t have the levels of corruption and crime they have here in Seattle. Actually, you can hardly tell any difference from the way it was before, or so I’ve been told.
After the pulse, when the people realized that life in small towns was so much better than in the big cities, Roswell and other places like it had been overrun by people looking for a better life. That had quickly led to very strict rules and regulations imposed individually by each town that was affected, concerning certain criteria that people had to fulfill to be allowed to move there, making it practically impossible to do so. That and the fact that property prices tripled.
So unless you were filthily rich, already owned property in one of those towns or inherited some it was practically impossible to get a foot in and settle down there. Even tourists or people visiting family and friends were only allowed to stay a certain amount of time, their coming and going carefully monitored by the sector police. Locals could pretty much move around as they pleased, especially since the town was small and the police soon knew all the people who lived there, but for visitors it was not that easy.
I look around, trying to figure out if I’ve already been on this street or not. To me, they all look the same.
At first getting around Seattle wasn’t nearly as easy as in Roswell, not until I faked myself a sector pass with my nifty little powers, that is. Now it’s easier to move from one sector to the next, but my search for Ava has still been fruitless so far. I tried going through the official channels but I don’t have the money or the willingness to try and bribe myself to success. The corruption level in this city is amazing.
And so I’m back to aimlessly running around the city, going to all the places I think Ava would most likely hang out at, hoping that I’d just run into her by chance. No such luck so far.
Yeah, I know, so that’s not the most sophisticated of plans. But hey, if you got a better idea, I’m open for suggestions.
One way or another, I’m going to have to change my approach pretty soon. I’m running out of money, meaning that I won’t be able to pay for my motel room much longer, not to mention buy something to eat.
Talking of which, I’m getting hungry. I round a corner, sure that I saw a place where they sell hot dogs somewhere in that direction earlier that day. But what meets my eyes isn’t a hot dog booth. I see a person lying on the ground, about half a dozen guys around him, kicking him and beating him with pieces of wood and metal bars.
Shit, what it is with me running into people having the shit beaten out of them?
Then I notice all the people standing around, simply watching, not doing anything to stop it. What the hell is wrong with them?
I close my eyes, feeling physically sick, suddenly wishing that I had the power to mind-warp them into leaving him alone. The queerest feeling suddenly takes over my mind, and when my eyes pop open a second later I see the guys that were happily beating up a defenless person mere seconds ago running in my direction as if the devil himself were chasing after them. I have to jump out of the way to avoid being barreled over by them.
“Quick, he’s getting away,” one of them shouts while they rush past me and disappear around the corner.
For a moment I’m confused, then the guy on the floor moans and rolls onto his back and I rush over to him since nobody else seems to be in any kind of hurry to help him.
“You okay?” I ask kneeling down beside him.
“Yeah,” he groans, before trying to get back up on his feet. I help him up, as much as lil’ old me can help a guy more than a head taller than myself who probably weighs about twice as much.
“Look, maybe we should get you out of here,” I say, “Who knows when they’re coming back.”
He tries to pull away. He’s anything but steady though so I reach for him before he topples over and crushes me beneath him.
“Why did they leave anyway?” he asks while limping towards a narrow side street, me supporting as much of his weight as I can handle. Hmm, wonder where this weird sense of déjà-vu is suddenly coming from…
“How should I know?” I ask trying to sound innocent, but he gives me a strange look narrowing his eyebrows at me, making me doubt that he believes a word I’m saying.
We continue walking in silence, and my thoughts start to wander.
What just happened back there? I mean, I didn’t…I wasn’t…that’s impossible. I don’t have that ability. I don’t want that ability. Well, actually, I don’t want any of them, but this one…the one that killed my best friend…I can’t handle this. I can’t handle the thought of being like her. I don’t want to be like her. I’d rather cut my right arm off.
“This looks like as good a place to stay as any,” the guy suddenly says, startling me out of my thoughts. I look around. We’re in another narrow side street, but this one sort of has a niche with some garbage cans in it, making it a pretty good place to hide since the only way for someone to find you is if they’re standing right in front of you.
“Yeah,” I agree.
“You can go now,” he tells me, “I’ll call a friend to come and pick me up. I’ll be fine.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I say stubbornly. If someone comes I might be able to fight them off, but he can’t do anything to defend himself. Not in the state he’s in.
And geez, is there an off-button for my uncanny talent of attracting other people’s trouble?
He obviously disagrees.
“Look, you can’t do anything else for me. I appreciate your help, but if they come and find you here with me they’re gonna do the same thing to you that they did to me.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I repeat. Geez, when are people gonna learn that I mean what I say and that they can’t randomly force their will down my throat whenever they see fit?
He stares at me and I stare straight back at him, and finally he gives in. “Fine. Get yourself killed. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
He pulls out his cell phone and dials a number. “Hey, it’s me….yeah, I’m fine, I got away. Look, can you send someone out to pick me up?...Um, actually, I don’t know where I am, somewhere in sector five, in an alley or something.” He sounds sort of embarrassed at that last sentence, making him look kinda cute. “Okay, thanks.” Shuts off his cell phone and slips it back into his pocket. “People are already out looking for me. They should find us pretty soon…I hope.”
Time goes by and we just sit there in silence, neither of us in the mood to talk. I’m trying my hardest not to think about my part in what just happened, but that’s hard having nothing else to occupy my mind with. It’s getting dark and my stomach starts to growl. I haven’t eaten anything since breakfast.
The guy starts cramming around in his pockets, pulls out a cereal bar, and hands it to me. “Thanks,” I say before I start eating.
“So, why were those guys after you?” I ask. Anything to get my mind off the newest addition to my nifty little set of otherworldly powers.
“Don’t you watch the news?” he mutters cynically.
“Not much,” I reply munching on my cereal bar. My motel room isn’t exactly equipped with cable TV. Plus, you can’t believe anything that’s on the news anyway.
He gives me a strange look and is about to say something, but then I hear a soft voice calling “Biggs?”
Wait a minute…I know that voice. I stand up and leave the niche we’ve been hiding in only to find myself standing in front of…Joshua? Is it him? The height’s pretty much right, and he has the long brown hair and the clumsy way of moving, but he’s wearing a helmet and so I can’t see his face. Not that I ever got a good look at it in the first place.
“Liz?” he asks. And then he takes the helmet off and I just stare.
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