Free Autumn in the City of Lights by Kirby Howell

we’ll not heckle any latecomers.” Diego paused and smiled at the small patter of laughter from the crowd.
    “Anyone seated further back, please come closer. We won’t have microphones or speakers today due to the lack of power.”
    I turned to glance behind me. People were dispersed as far back as where the overgrowth of weeds began to cover the seats like a green blanket. No one moved.
    “Okay, I guess we’ll get started. By now, you are all aware of what happened here yesterday. The New Burbank Guard and my office have been working tirelessly to ensure the safety of today’s meeting, and we’re improving our efforts on the outside, too.”
    A figure moved behind Diego in the darkness of the ruined band shell. My heart leaped, and I grabbed Grey’s hand.
    “What’s wrong?”
    “Someone’s back there.”
    “Where?”
    “Behind Diego, in the shadows.”
    He nodded. “It’s Karl. Hart, as well. Along with several people from the Mayor’s Office.”
    I squinted, but I could only see a faint outline in the darkness.
    “Show-off,” I whispered, nudging Grey with my elbow. He could see in the dark almost as well as a cat.
    Diego continued gesturing and smiling to the crowd as he spoke, but his words contradicted his friendly manner. They were instituting a sunset curfew starting tonight. Doors and windows should be kept locked and suspicious people and behavior reported immediately. Every resident would be issued an ID, all firearms had to be registered with the New Burbank Guard, and lookouts would be posted twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. And they needed more volunteers.
    Hoover had similar laws, and they’d made me feel safe when I lived there. But I’d gotten used to more freedom in New Burbank, and returning to stricter rules made me feel like I was drowning. This should be a good thing, I reminded myself. This would make it more difficult for The Front to attack us again.
    When Diego finished, there was hearty applause.
    “It appears people want action, even if it doesn’t make sense,” Daniel said quietly, leaning forward so he could see Grey. “None of these measures will stop what’s happening.”
    “They couldn’t hurt,” Grey said, shrugging.
    The crowd’s applause died suddenly, and we all straightened to see what had happened. Karl stood next to Diego, holding up his hands for quiet.
    Karl’s smooth, clear voice set my teeth on edge.
    “I realize the peace talks are on hold until the bomber is found,” he said soberly. “But I recently received news I must share.”
    I touched the back of Grey’s arm, and he took my hand in his, winding his fingers through mine. He glanced down at me, and I could see the same concern in his eyes that I felt. He squeezed my hand, then placed his other on top of mine. His fingertips were cold, but his palms were warm, and they thawed my own icy fingers between them.
    “This morning,” Karl continued, “we received word of a plan to hold a meeting of survivors across the globe, a Summit of New Nations. We’ve been invited to be part of this conversation.”
    A collective gasp came from the crowd, and chatter began to fill the air. Grey and I looked at each other with wide eyes.
    Karl waved his hands in a downward motion, trying to quell the excitement.
    “The Summit takes place in six months, and I think it’s in all of our best interests to make sure our leaders are there to represent us on the global scale. But there’s one problem.”  He paused, looking around at the rapt audience. For a moment, I felt his gaze on me, and I shuddered.
    “People of Los Angeles, we are going to have to work together to get there. Because the Summit of New Nations is in the City of Light — Paris, France.”

CHAPTER FIVE
    I was struck dumb. Paris. Only months ago, Grey and I had stood on the Eiffel Tower, staring at the signs for a French Reconstruction Front, wondering how on earth we were going to stop Karl from taking over the world. And now