The streets aren't safe after dawn.
James kept his head low as he trudged through the dark alleyways of Blackland. The sky had just barely cracked open as he reached the abandoned main street, a light sprinkle of rain dusting the packed rows of cars that stretched across the city. He'd never ventured this far into the city after sunrise before and could feel the fear creeping up his spine and slithering across her neck. A ray of light squeezed past a large stone building and hit one of the dusty windows of an abandoned postoffice, revealing a fat grey cat with wide blue eyes that glistened all the way across the six lanes of abandoned vehicles.
The boy stepped forward, as if to make towards the frightened animal when a bullet shot from above him, shattering the window.
Stifling a scream, he jumped back into the darkness, his knees bumping into a plastic recycling bin and pitching him forward into it. Something wriggled underneath him and he jumped up as a small mouse darted out of the flipped bin. James backed into the corner of the alley, careful not to make any noise for fear the shooter would get him. He knew that people still lived in the apartment buildings across the city, that they too hoped to wait out this treachery. But what set him apart from them was his knowing that it was hopeless. The soldiers that patrolled the streets at noon were no more good than the ones that had forced the country into this mess.
Another bullet rang out like a warning call to anyone who dare try and locate the shooter.
A small whimper came from the fire escape above James. He peered into the darkness only to be met with nothing but the drab sky above. "Hello," he whispered. "Who's there?" The whimpering came again before a small voice whispered back. "I'm scared, Jay." James sighed and crawled up the metal stairs. A small boy around the age of ten with dark brown hair stared at him, his eyes wide and unblinking. "Alex," James said, "I told you to stay upstairs."
"I wanted to help you - ooh!" His dark eyes wandered past his older brother and followed the cat that was now walking majestically upon the roof of a car. James stared warily at the little boy, silently pleading for him to sit still.
Alex stood up and jumped to the littered ground below. Why, Alex? Why?
James grabbed the backpack he left behind and followed him down. "Can I go get it?" The older boy shook his head before Alex even said the second word. "Absolutely not. We're going back to the house." He threw his bag to him, watching proudly as Alex caught it in one swift motion. The younger Hamilton brother looked mildly disappointed as he tugged the straps onto his shoulders. James turned and made way for the narrow space between the two buildings surrounding him when he felt the warm presence of his brother disappear.
He whirled around and saw him crossing the first lane of the main road. "Alex," he said, not daring to speak at full volume for fear someone would hear him. The small boy took three more steps, crossing into the second lane where the cat sat watching Alex with curious eyes. "Alex," he said again. Louder. He reached forward as if to touch the cat and that's when James heard it. The cocking of a gun.
"Alex! Get away!" He ran forward and shoved the younger boy to the ground right as the bullet flew through the air. Pain erupted in his chest. The cat hissed and darted back to its post office.
"James?" He couldn't feel anything except the burning sensation of the bullet in his flesh as Alex flipped him onto his back. Footsteps pounded against the concrete. They had found them. James pushed his brother away. "Run," he choked. "Get away." He shook his head, eyes pooling with tea. "No. Jay, you're coming with me."
Four pairs of feet were visible from underneath the blue Honda that shielded the siblings from sight. "Go, now!" James shoved him again and this time he moved. But the soldiers caught sight of him right as they turned past the car.
They grabbed his arms and pinned him to the ground, mashing his face into the slick asphalt. "Let him go!" James yelled. The two soldiers on top of Alex had the barrel of their guns pressed against his head as they peeled him from the ground, bending his arms back to keep a hold on him should he try to escape. Two soldiers had their guns trained on James as well, one of them much larger and bulkier than the other. The larger one sneered down at the bloodied boy on the ground. "Didn't anyone ever tell you not to go out after dawn?" He spit next to James' head, a large wad of tobacco sticking to the dark asphalt.
James clenched his jaw. "I probably would have listened had I known I'd come across you ugly bast-"
The large soldier raised his boot and mashed it into his wound chest. Pain exploded across his body. He sucked in a strangled breath. "Why do you want him? He didn't do anything!" The man smiled, his mouth twisted and sinister. "You obviously can't care for him anymore, cupcake. He's our prize now." He pulled a small pistol from his waistband.
Alex struggled against his captors, his face ashen and fear-stricken. "Don't hurt him! He's already in pain." Alex's head snapped to the side as the soldier backhanded him, the gun clipping the side of his head hard enough to draw blood. "Alex!" The soldier cocked the silver gun. "Goodbye, boy." Alex screamed for them to stop but the bullet had already hit its mark.
James met his brother's anguished eyes one last time as the hands of angels grabbed for his wrists.
The streets aren't safe after dawn.