I Am Mustafin

iting for the alarm to be raised, for rough hands to grab me. But i

my G

n it. I can't. My legs move of their own accord, carrying me past the man. I

way. The streets blur around us, my focus narrowed to the path ahead an

ow myself to slow down. Beside me, Marcus exhales hea

playing the encou

e didn'

.

oked right into his

it's from the encounter with the man or the nervous cashier, I can't tell. But I

I don't want to make him wo

d part

ambling to come up with something-anything-to distr

" I blu

fusion momentarily replacing

steady my voice sounds even to my own ea

s tone laced with a

ut flat, emotionless, and I can'

utters, and we laps

by Talos' authority will soon get around to him. It's a story known to many in the underground community-a t

erstand. He'd been friends with my parents, had witnessed thei

n't help but wonder if the reason they were caught was because they abandoned me. Maybe they tr

blam

it hole, a loud alarm cuts through the

ls, his voice barely audib

ll too often when I walk on edge o

7:4

my voice laced with ur

. Out of the corner of my eye, I see men dressed in black

t remains closed until 12PM the following day. It is a crime to stay in the sector of a Ring that you don't belong

e exceptions. They're j

orest. But as we come closer, my heart sinks when a pair of soldiers begin walking

one of them ca

dy coiling to sprint. "Stop," I hiss

f, my own mov

anic. S

est. The palms of my hands break in light sweat, my knuck

d?" one of them asks, hi

until I turn to look at his fellow soldier and I notice the intensity in his

my voice fails me. My tongue fee

not a hint of hesitation in his voice.

We're going

the soldiers regard us. Then, miraculously,

than

s me dizzy. We turn to leave, our calm exter

a few steps when a se

You, in th

" I whisper to Marcus, my voice

like my fate. The one who called me back locks his arms

he asks, his tone leavi

ke I'm under a microscope. I know by now he's noticed my ambig

forcing my voice

skepticism dripping

hard to breathe. And then, the words

e the

om and capture, I realize that everything-Briannah's lif

e, I catch a pair of soldiers crossing the street, their boots rhythmically hitting the pavement a

oulder to see Marcus disappearing aroun

dicine is safe.

nstinctively to my face, fingers grasping the frame of my shades. The soldier h

e's

. I exhale shakily, the cool evening air making my feverish skin b

the concrete. But the sound is quickly drowne

g alarm cuts through the air, and suddenly the street is bathed in a deep, pulsing re

athing. Ahead, I spot three more soldiers in black uniforms running straight for me. I make a sharp left, bare

I tuck and roll as I land, the impact knocking the wind from my

No,

ottweiler charging to

the cool metal rungs. But I'm not fast enough. The dog's teeth sink into my boot, tearing through leath

my ankle. As I reach the roof, the deafening whir of helicopter blades fills

to run. And with no

wed by a sharp, shooting pain up to my knee. I land hard o

t up! Get up! You

step, my injured ankle gives way. The fight drains out of me as I limp a

' emblazoned on its side in stark white letters. Before I can react, someone grabs a fistful of my hair,

as handcuffs click shut. I'm thrown into the truck, landing hard on my injur

limbs grow heavy, my thoughts sluggish. As the truck lurches into motion, I fight

. Do not f

oniously. My feet drag across unfamiliar ground as I'm half-carried into a blindingly

rface a shock against my skin. I try

.. I can

vulnerable. Despite the paralysis induced by whatever g

ng on? What are

ds that make my blood run co

n,

iating

g flesh, the cruel laughter of my tormentors, and m

and the breath from my lungs is ki

make i

ctly for the side of my head and my neck pops. This time, the familiar ringing in my ears sound

confirms as the echoing sound receding f

cus

.

He did

g that the last thing that I did was save my friend'

ling me away. But as I allow myself to slip away, another thought crosses my