Free Vigo's Lament: A Dystopian Thriller (Age of End Book 3) by Chris Yee Page A

in his way, he shoots you. We all saw it. Saul didn’t have to die like that.”
    “Enough,” Vince said. “We don’t need to dwell on the past. What’s done is done. Focus on the task at hand.”
    “All I’m saying is, if a man like that is put in a place of power, he will never give it up.”
    “And that’s why we have to take it from him,” Vince said. His face, stone cold.

THIRTEEN
    AS THEY FOLLOWED the man and woman down the street, another group of three turned onto the road. They were also talking about the ceremony. Vince and the others stopped their conversation, anxiously walking beside these new strangers. More people joined, and they soon found themselves stuck in the center of a small crowd, heading towards the ceremony. Vince kept his head down, hoping no one would recognize them.
    The strangers paid no attention to them, but they remained silent anyway, too nervous to say a word. Charlotte finally looked to her side and whispered, “I think we’re okay. They don’t recognize us.”
    “Don’t take any chances,” Vince whispered back.
    “This was a mistake,” Alan said. “We should have stuck to the plan and headed straight for the Spire.”
    Vince kept his eyes forward and his head down. “Too late now. We’re surrounded. There’s no way to get out without drawing attention. All we can do now is follow them and hope for the best.”
    “Shoot,” Alan said. “I hate hope-for-the-best. It never works out.”
    “Hey, we’re still alive,” Charlotte said. “That has to count for something. We’ll be okay as long as we don’t make a scene.”
    Izzy pressed up against Charlotte, trembling as the crowd grew denser. Charlotte wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her in closer.
    The movement of the crowd slowed to a stop, and they found themselves in front of a modest stage. Vibrant flowers were stacked at the center, with pictures of faces scattered around. Hanging from the front of the stage was a sign that read, Never Forget . People from the crowd threw paper on stage. Pictures of loved ones, and letters of grief.
    “When does it start?” Alan asked to no one in particular.
    A lady to his right turned around. “Any minute now. It’s so nice that they’re doing this. A ceremony like this means so much.” She held up a picture to show Alan. “This is my son. He was working in the Spire during the attack. He didn’t make it out.”
    “I’m sorry to hear that,” Alan said. “It was truly a horrible day for all of us. I’m sure your son was a good man.” The lady crumpled the paper, pressed it against her lips with loving care, and tossed it onto the stage.
    “Thank you for saying so. If you don’t mind me asking, who did you lose?”
    Alan thought about the question for a moment. “My wife, Melinda.”
    “Do you have a picture of her? You can throw it on stage.”
    Alan lowered his head. “Sadly I do not. She was a beautiful woman, though.”
    “Did she work in the Spire?”
    “No. She just got caught up in something she wasn’t a part of.”
    “That’s a shame.”
    “She was the nicest woman in the world. Wouldn’t hurt a fly. She always put others ahead of herself. She didn’t deserve such a cruel death.”
    “She sounds like a nice person. Perhaps she and my son will meet in the afterlife.”
    “Yes, perhaps.”
    A man walked up on stage holding a microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen. If I could have your attention, I would like to begin this ceremony.” He waited for the chatter to die down. “Thank you. As you all know, we are here to honor lost friends and family who were taken during the fall of the Spire. It only happened weeks ago, but it feels like ages that we’ve had to suffer without our loved ones. I know it’s difficult, but we will overcome this time of sorrow. Every single one of us has one thing in common. We have lost someone close. We will not let this break our spirits. Instead, we will support each other and grow as a