Free 29:16:04:59 by Joshua Johnson Page B

I turned my head slightly and caught a glimpse of a street sign. It read “Cicero,” the road that ran perpendicular to this one. I took one step closer.
                  I couldn’t tell if this was the same crowd that one of Glasses’ group would have fired the flare for. The mass of people failed to advance. They stood on the block across the street, sticking to the middle of the road. There was chatter amongst them. Incoherent shouts rippled from the center, along with screams. In an instant they were running, shouting, and searching for the kill, or whatever they were looking for.
                  I made no attempt to hide my only threat. I leveled the pistol and fired one shot into the air. I didn’t have enough ammo to shoot them all, and hope it would stun them. The blast struck a nerve, but only mine. The advancing crowd didn’t seem afraid at all. In fact, I think they just moved faster.
                  “Ah, fuck me…” I turned around and ran as hard as I could. I didn’t need to know what this was about. If I had wandered into some sector, some land war, it didn’t matter. Though I did wonder why Glasses would send me this way just to die. Shouts and screams leapt up louder, transforming, completing the terror I was hoping to avoid. Panic spurred my legs faster down the concrete.
                  I reached the next intersection. Part of the street was flooded near ankle deep. The reservoirs were backed up nowadays, so when it rained some of the streets turned into rivers. The flooded street carried on the rest of the way down Washington. It was cold, too. The water stood still, not running toward the storm drains like it should have been. Some red glare reflected off the windows and off the water, just like Glasses had predicted.
                  “Yes, yes…” I said and kicked through the water. I wasn’t going to chance a look backwards, but at least I was moving in the right direction. If Glasses’ instructions were correct, then I should see it soon enough: that theater. It was no wonder people refused to live down here. The buildings were soaked in this toxic water, sitting still, decaying. The atmosphere reeked, evidence that the world here was beyond restoration.
                  Water splashed behind me. Evidently I was still in the wrong territory, I’d possibly been recognized. If I was caught, I’d be beaten, torn to pieces, and displayed as a trophy. I wasn’t going to let that happen; there was still too much to do, too many people to help, to save. I needed to figure this out, and for whatever reason I was closer to it than ever before.
                  A display jutted out of a building, a yellow marquee with lettering pronouncing shows and times. Most of the building was falling apart, its glass doors shattered, and old movie posters were still displayed in cases covered in moss and grit. Vines hung out of the second story windows, busted open from weather and time, and water flowed through the front, directing me onward.
                  I passed through the entrance and entered a world thick with flora, more overgrown than I’d ever seen before. Standing water swirled in the middle of the floor, with part of the flooring just above water level creating a sort of pool. Stalks of vegetation grew around the pond with lily pads floating, and frogs croaking at my sudden arrival.
    The stairs on the left slanted upwards, and more vegetation grew around the handrails. Vines reached for the rafters. Off to the right was the counter where refreshments were sold, popcorn popped for waiting movie-goers. The movies were one of the first memories I gained after the forgetting. I remembered going to the movies once or twice when I was younger, but never remembered a movie theater quite like this.
                  My pursuers started shouting outside. Some declared I’d gone into the theatre.