Sometimes I wonder what it's like to be free. Then I remember that a runt like me will never have an education or job. I'm just like everyone else in this rotten wasteland. I used to hear about how New York City was the place to be before the war broke out and destroyed it. I used to hear how the city was thriving, with the old skyscrapers a sight to behold.
Now? Well, now it's just dump with buildings in flames and more than half of the population living on the streets. Some American dream.
A pounding against the door of the warehouse I had been hiding in for the past few days broke my train of thought and the peaceful silence I had finally grown accustomed to. I took out my pistol and stalked toward the door. I gripped the handle, taking one last breath to calm my nerves, and flung the metal door open. I held my gun up, but slowly lowered it once I caught sight of the bald headed man.
"Oh, it's just you." I murmured and heaved a breath of relief. Demitri hobbled in, his cane being the only thing holding him up. "Has that gang forgotten about me yet?" I asked him.820Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTdKyTaeIJU
The old man stood in front of me, cane giving his hunchback the support it needed. He glared down at me like a father would with his troublesome child. "You stole a lot of stuff from them, Davis, you realize that?" His voice sounded like nails on a chalkboard, but I'd grown accustomed to it after so many years of us watching our backs for one another.
He wasn't a friend of mine, I didn't have any left, instead we had a mutual respect for each other. We'd help each other out whenever in need. For a price.
I rolled my eyes and closed the door, locking it and flopping onto the couch next to him. "Of course I realize that. I just assumed that they wouldn't care, since they've already got more drugs than they can handle."820Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡR6xavEFgS0
"Speaking of drugs, do you have my pay?"820Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡh5EQooYddL
I nodded and pulled out a vial full of the infamous blue liquid. "One vial of Alastair to the old senile man in the corner."
Demitri quickly grabbed it from me and stuffed it into his ripped up coat pocket. With a scowl he hobbled out of the warehouse. I sighed and laid down on the old, uncomfortable couch. I looked up at the ceiling, wondering what my life used to be like when I had a home; when I didn't live on the streets. What would my life have been like if that theif never broke my window? Would my father still be alive right now?
Gunshots rang out outside of the heavy metal doors of the warehouse. The only thing in that building that led to the outside. And Demitri had just gone out that way. I bolted for the door, flung it open, and found the old man heaving on the ground, covered in blood.
I looked up, and caught a glimpse of the shooter, before they jumped me and held a rag to my mouth. I struggled under the restraints of the men's abnormally bulky arms, but couldn't break free from their hold crushing my waist. The world grew fuzzy as they continued to hold the oddly-smelling rag to my mouth. My limbs grew numb, and my legs buckled underneath of me, my kidnapper catching me.
Then the world went black, memories of what used to be flooding back to me. But I ignored them, only worrying about Demitri and if he was alright.
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