A shot rung out, one lone explosion amid the flurry of voices and all hell broke loose.
"Fire!" The redcoat bellowed and the soldiers did as they were ordered.
Screams filled the air, joining the gunfire.
"Get out of here!" Achilles barked to Nathan and the young boy didn't need to be told twice.
He and the other children fled. It was like their game of tag, except this fear was not adrenaline, it was real. They did not scream for fear of being caught but for fear of being shot. They didn't glance behind them to see how close the chaser was, they glanced behind to see if all their friends were still with them.
They weren't.
"Where's Christopher?" Miles asked, panting as they reached a side street, unoccupied by soldiers and out of the way of the massacre.
They counted each child. Susie, Freddy, Nathan, Bonnie, Eric, Miles but no Christopher.
"I'll go back-" Bonnie started.
"No!" Nathan shook his head. "It's too dangerous. You should all go home. I'll find him."
"You could get hurt!" Susie said.
"I need to find my... My brother anyway. I'll find him, I promise."
The children nodded, their faces painted with fright.
"Stay safe," Bonnie whispered and they rushed off to their families as Nathan rushed back the way they came.
As Nathan ran, he pushed past the fleeing civilians, ignoring the small boy that swam against the tide. A number of times he was shoved aside and nearly trampled, but after every stumble, he regained his feet and continued to run.
A shadow ran alongside him and he glanced up to see Connor racing along the rooftops.
"Connor!" He shouted out but the boy didn't turn.
Behind him were three soldiers, pursuing him as he ran, leaping over the gap between buildings, right above Nathan. He continued to run, right back to the crowd where men still wrestled with soldiers. Some of them had weapons of their own but it was still considerably uneven odds.
Nathan's eyes glazed over the fallen and caught sight of one small child, lying unmoving.
"Oh no."
Amid the mob, Nathan scrambled towards the bodies and knelt down beside the smaller form. Christopher lay unblinking, eyes wide but no breath passed his lips.
"Christopher," Nathan nudged the boy but he refused to comply.
As tears began to fall, Nathan stood and bolted from the scene again, his sight blurry and obscuring his vision. He turned a corner and ran directly into the old man who was looking for him.
"Achilles!" He choked on his tears.
"I'm glad I found you, boy," Achilles sighed in relief.
"I saw him go that way." Nathan wiped his eyes and pointed in the direction he had seen him raced over the buildings. "He was being chased. By soldiers."
"He's a slippery fellow," the old man remarked. "He'll escape them, I'm sure."
"I could find him," Nathan started forward but Achilles grasped his shoulder.
"No," he shook his head, "I've spoken to a friend. He will find Connor and help him out of the city."
"Why can't we find him ourselves?"
Achilles pointed to one soldier, a stack of papers under his arm. He rested them on the floor and took on, hammering the sheet onto a tree before moving on. Nathan drew near the paper and gasped as he saw the face etched on the wanted poster.
"It's Connor!" He hissed to Achilles. It was a crude impression but recognisable nonetheless.
"He's being hunted, no place for a young boy and an old man. We can't help him, not here."
"Will he be alright?" Nathan asked Achilles as they returned to the carriage.
"He can take care of himself, try not to worry," Achilles assured him as he took the reins.
Nathan took a seat beside him, the carriage full of supplies to fix the homestead. As the horse was urged into a trot, the young boy watched the wonderous city he had been so entranced by fade away, poisoned by violence and bloodshed. He could still see the frozen face of Christopher, a face he would never forget.
In that instance, Nathan found his purpose. He knew of the conflict between the British and the Americans and the want for freedom among the colonies. He wanted to be part of that fight, to secure a new nation for his home country. He would fight for the Assassins, America and the young child that died amid the chaos. Christopher was not the first innocent to fall. And he certainly would not be the last.