Chapter 19

Edward’s shoes slapped against the pavement as he ran down a small corridor between two high-rise slums. He emerged out of the corridor, jumping immediately into the cover of the next building while a bullet sailed through the space he had just occupied. His suit jacket had already been abandoned and a katana hung securely to his back in the suspenders of his under-vest.
He looked left and right as he calmly reached for the grip of the blade. The sound of approaching feet slaps echoed in the corridor. Edward closed his eyes and waited. He wiped the sweat from his hand and stood



READY



for anything, but this. Witticker emerged into the distrip from a short side-street from the main road he had followed through the city. The view was anything, but what he had expected. Men and women walked around quickly in clothes of every color and style. Vendors covered the sides of the streets, yelling at passers-by. Masses of people crammed into the streets, all on their own business. The market was colorful and



ALIVE



,and then lifeless as Edward shoved the sharpened metal into the man’s back. The bodies of two men lay broken on the ground, dressed neatly in black suits. Edward pulled the sword from his pursuers back and leaned against the building, his lungs trying to compensate for their recent short supply. He pulled himself alongside the building towards the adjacent alleyway. More feet could be heard in the distance. Edward sprinted down the alleyway, towards the growing sound of



PEOPLE



filled all the spaces and Witticker began to breathe heavily in the suffocating closeness. His eyes darted around wildly and his mouth went dry. People of all shapes and sizes, different descriptions and acounts. Everyone staring at him, watching him. He turned to the nearest vendor.
“Girondo?” he cried frantically, “Where’s Girondo?”
The vendor pointed down to the far end of the street.
“Three blocks.”
Witticker nodded as a deer might to oncoming headlights. He moved slowly down the maze of people. So many people. So



AFRAID



there might be more, Edward ran into the crowds to get lost. He pushed into the mob and quickly ducked down to half his size. He shuffled awkwardly through the masses on his knees, taking care to hold the sword close and out of sight. He bumped into a man, twice his size, who promptly shoved him back. The crowds subsided creating a circle for the two men, a makeshift fighting pit. In the distance more figures in black suits had



ARRIVED



at the wrong time of day. Witticker had quickly become aware that night was no time to be in the distrip. He gripped his briefcase tightly as he slowly maneuvered through the anxious crowd. So many people. Too many to dodge. He began to shove through people without concern. The more people he pushed past the more they seemed to multiply. The paths to walk through were becoming smaller as the crowd seemed to grow



LARGER



than he had anticipated, Edward knew the man he’d pushed was not one to fuck with. The man’s nose was crooked from a lifetime of physical negotiations.
“You picked the wrong day, fella,” said the offended colossus.
Edward backed up as the man drew



CLOSER



than he had ever wanted to be to this many people. A panic flew wildly through Witticker’s mind. A phobia never fully recognized and now operating at full



FORCE



of the blow threw Edward to the ground like a rag doll. Strangely, the mammoth didn’t pursue him. Edward looked up to see the man teetering from left to right, his white tank top soaking up blood from the newly formed hole in his back. His most recent enemy had, inadvertently, taken a bullet for him. Edward turned and



RAN



as fast as he could through the crowd. Too many people. Witticker wanted to get



OUT



of sight was the only way to get safe. Edward pushed through the sea of bodies. He could hear the storm of feet behind him and realized he didn’t have much



TIME



slowed down and Witticker felt every second pass. He fought his way through the mass of faces, pushing away from the fear that echoed in his mind. There seemed to be motion up



AHEAD



of this last row of people there was a clearing and Edward saw his chance to escape. Gunshots echoed through the cavernous district as his pursuers watched their prey begin to slip



AWAY



, far far away. Witticker yearned for the horrors in his mind to stop. He seized himself up and ran through anyone in his way. Suddenly, he broke through and stood in an open



PATHWAY



was blocked by a orange-haired man in a light blue button-up. A gunshot whizzed past Edward’s ear and sank into the orange-haired man’s arm. Edward ran forward, grabbed the victim by his surviving arm, and sprinted through the



CROWD



flew by as a searing pain shot through Witticker’s right bicep. His legs moved without his consent as he was pulled into a dark doorway. The door closed and the room went black. Witticker fell from consciousness as the sound of running footsteps faded into the distance.