Young Writers Society

When the buildings and streets of Scott finally came into view, The Boy’s stomach was gurgling and his mouth was dry. He had not eaten or drank since his trip to the market maybe a day or more ago.

The Boy, of course, noticed the aura of the multi-colored city lights long before he actually saw the city itself. The teen’s eyes were not yet accustomed to hunting for these slight brightnesses, and so she did not perceive Scott until they were much closer. Exhausted of questioning, it was still more time until she mustered the confidence to pull apart her glued lips and inquire about the distant glimmer she saw.

“What is that light?” the teenager The Boy accompanied asked.

“It’s Scott,” he said, breaking his long silence and surprising the young woman.

“Who is Scott?” she asked timidly, sensing that this is something her stoic guide would expect her to know.

“I don’t know what backwater place you live that’s never heard of Scott,” he replied cooly.

“Backwater? I grew up in New York,” she spat defensively.

“Never heard of it.”

“How have you never heard of New York? What kind of crazy mole person are you?” Her questioning tone was filled with frustration and venom.

“Damn, what is your problem? I save your life and this is how you thank me? By talking super loud and being a bitch?” Though his last few words were charged, he had yet to give his temper free reigns.

“Save my life? I woke up with some crazy stranger I’ve never met in some dark, cold place. You won’t even tell me where we’re going.” the girl said as she came to a haughty stop just outside the ring of light that surrounded Scott.

“We’re going to Scott,” he replied, his calm demeanor fracturing.

“What is Scott?” the teen yelled, finally cracking under her frustration. The boy covered his ears at her incredibly loud yell.

“What the fuck is your pro-” A loud rumbling of The Boy’s gut disrupted his train of thought. He sighed and conceded, “Can we save this for later? I’m hungry.” The lass scowled, but decided to be silent and follow for the time being.

The Boy hurried towards the enchanting, multi-colored city lights with her in tow. “Oh yeah,” he said, stopping suddenly. He turned back to face her and pointed a grimy finger. “There are some people looking for me, so if I take off, do that too, but in the opposite direction. Try to play it cool.” After saying that, he spun around on his heels continued. The girl however, did not immediately follow.

The girl was now even more wary of her supposed rescuer. All she knew was that she had woken up in a scary place with a suspicious, rude, and unwashed stranger, and that he had taken her to some shanty town. She was afraid. She didn’t trust The Boy at all and was sure that she’d be stabbed or worse in this disorganized mass of wobbling buildings

Still stationary, she called after him, “My names Argent by the way.”

“Cool,” he replied neutrally.

After a moment of inner conflict, Argent followed him into the streets quietly, but was convinced that fleeing blindly and screaming with her hands in the air was the smarter choice.

The city itself was certainly not impressive to Argent, though it was strange to her. She had been raised among towering and radiant concrete giants, and was now wandering among shakily erected buildings covered in lights to an excessive degree. Most of the the bulbs themselves had been covered or modified in some way or another to be quite dim, but in their quantity lit up the whole city. It looked as if beleaguered Christmas lights had invaded in much the same way as vines would. She noted that there were only a handful of larger neon lights despite the colorful appearance of the city.

Argent wondered if the city was really named “Scott,” but didn’t ask about it. She didn’t need to know.

As she observed the sights, Argent tried to ignore the smell of decay and feces that filled the air. The city’s squalor was immense. She stared at the dirty, malnourished passersby with equal parts disgust and curiosity.

“Are you people trapped down here?” she asked.

“I mean, I guess. People don’t think about it like that anymore though. They’re just down here,” The Boy replied over his shoulder. He had resigned to answering a few of her most urgent questions.

“How long have you been down here?”

He turned around to face her, walking backwards, “I’ve been down here for my whole life. People’ve been down here for ages. I mean-” The Boy tripped on a raised pipe and came down backwards onto on his side, causing a loud clang. Argent started, but he waved her away. He tried to stand up, but he faltered as his weight shifted onto his right leg and he fell backwards onto his ass.

“Give me a second,” he said, “I should’ve been looking where I was going.” He lay there for another minute, and failed once again to stand up. “Can you help me up?” he said, accepting that he couldn’t get up.

“Did you twist your ankle?” Argent asked with a bit of concern (more for herself than him).

“No, I’m good. Help me up.” Argent, visibly distressed, hurried over to The Boy and pulled him up. He didn’t make a sound, but it was clear from his movement that standing on the injured leg caused him pain.

Afraid of some the beggars around them that had taken notice of their vulnerability, and eager to get moving, Argent asked, “Do you need my shoulder?”

“Yeah, thanks,” The Boy replied as he slung his arm over her and put some of his weight on her. She didn’t like touching him, and very little of the things she was having to do besides, but the thick stench of unwashed bodies and human waste motivated her to go quickly.

As the two walked together, Argent could distinctly smell The Boy. It was a sour smell, and an incredibly powerful one too. It was obvious that he had not bathed in recent memory. She was relieved when the pain in The Boy’s foot had subsided, and he could walk normally again.

Soon they reached the market, and Argent was overwhelmed by the rancid smell of the crowd; they had to pause for a few minutes before she could continue.

The air was weighed down by the moistness of many breaths, and everything was washed in dull orange lights. The bustle of commerce penetrated the silence that descended across most of the city. All the rattled youth had seen in this world since her recent introduction seemed dead, even the gaunt people who wandered the streets. Here at least, there were many tired, malnourished people milling about in a manner that made them seem alive.

The Boy shoved his way to a food stand and bought two large bowls of boiled mushroom. They took them to an empty corner of the market, where the smell and the noise were not as abhorrent.

“Is this ok to eat?” Argent asked, nervously testing the consistency of the contents of her steaming bowl with a finger.

“Sure,” was The Boy’s not-so-reassuring reply. Argent, seeing that The Boy was beginning to eat ravenously with just his hands, reluctantly popped one slimy chunk into her mouth and was struck by it’s flavor immediately. It tasted metallic and bitter, and did not seem to have any seasoning. It was tough, rubbery, and difficult to chew. She herself was not much less hungry than The Boy though, and begrudgingly downed her portion.

She nearly choked when The Boy suddenly grabbed her hand that was resting on the table. When she looked up, his face was blank but hard. Something was wrong but he was feigning calm.

“Don’t look behind you but the people I told you about are here. We’re gonna get up calmly, and walk over that way,” he said in a low voice, just barely audible above the nearby commotion, nodding slightly to their left. “Once we’re out of the market, take a left and run as fast as you can.” Without confirming with Argent, The Boy got up and started walking away - quickly but calmly - in the direction he had indicated. Bewildered, his female companion followed soon after.

They hurried, forcing themselves through the dense crowd. Unthinkingly, Argent threw a frantic glance behind herself to see whether or not they had been spotted. Several armed men were marching through the crowd, headed by a single, older man in a strange blue uniform. They did not seem to have noticed The Boy and Argent. The crowd parted for them out of a great fear or respect, allowing the group of about a dozen to move far more quickly than the duo.

They managed to escape the market just as the small column arrived at the place they had been eating. The Boy had pulled significantly ahead of Argent by now, being much more practiced with slipping through a crowd. He had reached the intersection that he had spoken to Argent about, and was beckoning her onwards as he waited for her. When she finally reached him, he was crouching, ready to sprint down the left.

“Run and don’t look back under any condition ok? I’ll be right behind you.” he whispered as he grabbed her and pushed her violently down the street. Stumbling at first, Argent took off running at full speed as instructed, producing dull clanks on the uneven metal beneath her. Almost immediately she knew something was wrong when she didn’t hear an accompanying pair of clanks behind her. Looking back just as she was told not to, she glimpsed The Boy rounding a corner, going in the opposite direction.

There was no way she could catch him. He knew how to disappear in these illogical streets, and turning back would risk capture by the soldiers. He had perfectly abandoned her.

“Fucking bastard,” she whispered in between pants as she continued to run.