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Greyscale warfare. Bullets. Piercing. Aimed haplessly. Snuffing out life like breath on a cold morning. Wicked Velmora.
Kayden staggered. She was whacked in the knee. Shot out. She had a Black mullet. Ashy skin. Big nose. She hadn’t expected the riot to turn inwards. Attacking itself. Confused like an autoimmune reaction. She bunkered down in one of the stores. Emptied out. Hollow. Her knee red, swelling, fuck!
The TV shop window smashed. TV boxes piled up playing the headlines. Rioters carrying them away.
BREAKING NEWS: Gang Rioting in Sevord District.
“At approximately 9:13 pm - a crowd began rioting in Sevord. It is unknown who they are and if the group is affiliated with any terror organisations. Gunfire, rioting, and looting have. Velmora is not safe…”
This started thirty minutes after Officer Aircour was dispatched to the Banks residence. Carey. Lena.
Aircour was a stocky man. Black skin. Eyes sharp. Vigilant. Crooked left sided smile. Facial paralysis, perhaps. Lena felt like he was hiding something. Nothing indicated it, and he had come to help, so she pushed that thought out.
“What happened dear?” He said. Smokers voice.
Carey. Pink cheeks. Pink blanket wrapped. Hands shaking. Carpet wet. Spilt hot chocolate which Lena made. Now on the coffee table. Wet circle.
She described the boy and what he did. He was younger. Stabbed her bag with a knife and stole from her.
“He took my wallet and notebook… I don’t have my bag - I left it back there…”
“Back where?”
Carey said on the way back from the cafe.
“And nobody saw you?”
“A man from a window… But no one was in the street…”
“Okay… It’s always important to be with someone at night… Even I feel weary of it… It was not the same when I was a kid… Velmora has become wicked…”
Lena knew. She knew! It was the same boy. The boy with the wrench. Man, bleeding, in the tunnel.
He hurt Carey.
Fists. Tight. Red. Heart beating fast. Breath heavy. This boy had caused her so much grief. She believed she could figure it out. But she had ignored Carey. She wasn’t there. If that knife had hurt her? What could have happened? Lena squeezed Carey’s hand tight. Not this time.
A few neighbours popped their heads in. Police always did that. Mr Sung. Office worker, head of a nuclear family. Dahlia. The elderly piano teacher. Aircour’s partner sat in the car. Radio: static, beeping. Blue light on her eyes.
Little did she know — ten more minutes, and that thing’ll be singing!
“Yes! Yes! Yes!”
Guttural moans. Anger. Frustration. Rejection? Ethan was having sex with Emma, a girl from his dorm. Dark skin. Seaweed green hair and eyes like a mermaid. A regular dish. But she had a mole on her cheek. Ethan looked at her large breasts instead.
Lena had betrayed him. He was out for revenge. This will show her. She needed him.
He tied up the plastic. Binned it. Emma tugged on his arm, “come cuddle…”
“No… I don’t think so…” he said. Bun tied. Wet forehead strands. Glistening abs and chest. Left in the nude. Clothes in hand. Emma felt a stab of melancholy in her heart. The way he shut the door. The finality.
Lena. Bad sister. Rude to Ronnie. Bad friend. Following Ethan around like a pet. A good girlfriend. She felt more like a pet. Ethan was rubbing off on her - staining her flesh. A bad smell. Like oiliness. She had left Ethan at the flat.
He had lied to her. That phone call was Carey and he just cut it. Rather be handsy with her. No more... She had to end it.
“We’ll file it… Our investigators will be on it… Don’t worry… Come in tomorrow for a sketch of the perp —“ Aircour said as his partner cut in.
A redheaded woman. Short curls. Blue eyes. Pink freckled skin. Stocky. Tall.
“Code 83! Back up needed in Sevord. Violence and rioting…”
Lena turned on the TV. Breaking News. A helicopter camera angle. Smoke bombs. Fire. Men and women running amuck. Velmora was burning. Demons possessing souls.
They bid the pair good night. “Don’t leave the house!”
It was quiet again. But not alone.
Chaos brewing.
Riots spilling out the gunk and grime of humanity onto the square. Men. Women. Looting. Fighting. Breaking down. Breaking free.
Kayden. Twenty-eight. Slumped in a small store. Empty. Looted. Her knee killing her. Swollen. Red. Someone had smashed it.
Today ten factories run by the King Corp were shut down. 10,000 wage slaves let go. Conditions and wages were abysmal, but it put food in children’s bellies.
Mullen. A stocky black bearded man. Strong. Fat.
This was the last straw.
“We have been wage slaves for too long!” Mullen shouted.
A thousand ears in a factory hall. A thousand hearts. Broken.
“It is not just King Corp that has treated us poorly. It is Velmora itself! We have been the backbone of this city for too long!”
Looking up. Bated breath. Anger.
“Tonight we take back what was stolen!”
Cheering like a volcanic eruption.
King Corp managers chased off. One was unlucky and absorbed into the mob. Marching to Sevord.
First the factory was burnt down. But it was not enough.
The true grime of the earth. Criminals. Gangs. Opportunistic anarchists. They joined in on the chaos.
Kayden began to regret her anger. Swept by it. If she couldn’t escape, she’d be arrested.
Ethan. Smoking on the rooftop. He felt like he could let go up here. The chatter in his mind finally gave in. Distractions weren’t necessary.
Lena. He didn’t feel remorse for cheating on her. He’d been seeing girls on the side throughout. It’s what he had always done.
Beep!
His pager. It was her. Mom. God damn bitch…
Mark washed the last dish. It was closing time. Just him and Raymond. Raymond was resting at the table. Mom and Dad were home.
Mom's words echoed in his mind.
“If you’ve already told her how you felt then maybe it’s time to move on…”
Mark had given her flowers and chocolate. Well Ronny did. He hadn’t heard back from either of them. But he didn’t actually tell her. Now she had a boyfriend. He didn’t know anything about her current life. Maybe it was better to just respect her boundaries.
“Marky… You don’t see it… but every girl you talk to has a crush on you… You don’t need to worry about girls… The right girl will come…”
Mark liked Lena. He didn’t know how to stop liking her. He had liked her since pre school. That sort of crush doesn’t die out so easy.
Tunnel vision. His heart bet for Lena. He was simple and it was as simple as that. Lena.
Carey. Eyes tired. Exhausted. Leaning on Lena. They slept on the couch.
“I can’t handle the news…” Carey said.
Lena intently watching. “Oh… Sorry…”
Turning it off. Black.
Lena, caught up in a thought cycle. Velmora was not the same as it was. Officer Aircour said that. She felt like an idea was brewing.
She needed a protector. Carey needed one. Dad. Ronnie. Karl. Mr Rickson. Velmora was wicked.
Lena hugged Carey. Sleeping on the couch. The TV off. A low light orange lamp in the corner. Quiet sounds of Moira. They had each other.
“Lena?”
“Yeah.”
“I miss you.”
Lena paused. Tearing. Not crying.
“I miss you too…”
Tight hugs. Just like years ago. Sisters.
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