Young Writers Society

Chapter 1

February 12, 2124

Aaron stepped out onto the crowded street. He was the last to leave his building again, but that was intentional, getting home a few minutes sooner didn’t seem to fit the risk of getting trampled. He joined the flow of other people towards the bus stations, keeping a firm grip on his briefcase; he had been robbed on the way home before. Aaron was 24 years old, red headed and average height, though he liked to think that he was slightly above. This particular day was no different than usual. He had gotten up, gotten dressed while it was still dark, caught up bus, made it to his building, climbed fourteen flights of stairs in order to avoid the over capacitated elevator, sat down in his cube, worked until dark and began to make his way home. Daylight was something that commonly evaded Aaron, but he never seemed to miss it. He made do with what he had, and compared to most, he considered himself lucky.

Making it to the bus station Aaron waited at the curb. He didn’t dare try to claim one of the seats; he had seen fights break out over those. He looked around. There were some of his coworkers nearby, none that Aaron could place a name to, but of course, when you work in silence among three-thousand other people you tend to forget names. One man in particular caught Aaron’s attention today. He was dressed in a dark colored suit, far fancier than usual in this part of town. He had a nervous look of anticipation on his face and he gripped a grocery bag in his left hand like his life depended on it. Aaron didn’t think much of it, there were a lot of strange people about town and this man could have just gotten off at the wrong bus stop. Aaron caught awkward eye contact with the man, realized he was staring and looked away, just as the bus arrived.

People flooded around Aaron into the bus, but Aaron stood his ground, waited for an opportunity and stepped onto the crowded automobile. The nervous man followed him. While the other commuters scrambled for seats, Aaron calmly made his way to the back of the bus and grabbed the overhead bar. Being in the back of the bus saved Aaron from some unnecessary roughness as the other passengers boarded, and standing prevented him from getting dirty looks from those who didn’t get seats. Besides, Aaron didn’t mind standing after sitting in a cubicle all day. The bus jolted forward, bumping a number of people into each other, but then the ride smoothed out and Aaron was on his way home. He once again noticed the suited man, standing a few people in front of him, still clutching his grocery bag, darting his eyes around nervously. Aaron almost felt bad for him, he looked so uncomfortable.

After a few minutes the audio speakers in the bus crackled and announced that the first stop was coming up. Aaron’s stop was the third, so it didn’t bother him, but the nervous man seemed to get more uncomfortable as they neared the next destination. The bus slowed to a stop somewhat roughly, once again knocking the commuters into each other. The nervous man gave a final sigh and pulled something out of his grocery bag. It wasn’t food, but a box made of a black metallic material, a single switch on top. This box seemed to be hastily designed, as if not meant to last, silver tape holding together the edges. Shaking the man stared down at the odd contraption, wires poking out the sides. Aaron watched this and his eyes widened with fear. This was a bomb. Aaron had heard of this sort of thing happening, but never seen anything like it before, he panicked. He turned to the back of the bus and opened the latch on the emergency door, setting off alarms throughout the automobile. He jumped off the back, and sprinted down the crowded street as fast as he could, away from the explosive. A scream ripped from the bus, surely another noticed the bomb. The street was empty, no other bus, no other people. It was practically silent, and dark, as if the sun didn’t exist.

Then all of that changed.

The bomb went off, causing the bus to erupt. The walls of the bus burst outward, being thrown to either side of the street. The roof flew directly up, shattering into thousands of pieces. Passengers, or what was left of them, were thrown about, blood spilling throughout the wreckage. Flames spurted everywhere, smoke bellowing from what was left of the vehicle. The destruction did not stop there. On one side of the street, a market, once a nice one, was obliterated by fragments of the bus. On the other a bank, the center of the wealth in this city was sent up in flames by the flying shrapnel. Aaron was knocked forward by the blast, hitting his head on the road. Then everything went black.