Chapter 1

“Good morning!”

“If you just joined us we have reports of massive riots downtown Eisle, streets going towards upper One street has been completely blocked by Police. Reports are coming in of various areas under martial law; in other news we have reports that the army personnel have been alerted and ready to deploy at moment’s notice. We go to our EYE in the SKY with Matt Dorman.”

Slowly I opened my sleep encrusted eyes as radio blares of another unwarranted riot about some poor good-for-nothing in police uniform shooting a man or men that probably deserve it – fuck - you talk shit, you get hit. Easy as that. Especially if you talk shit to men with anger issues, with guns.

“Apparently there are attacks on uniformed men and women of our police force, we caution all citizens to refrain from all actions towards them...”

God damn!

Nobody learns their lessons, mindless, angry and depraved of love, puppies in need of some attention, thinking that smacking a police officer that just wanted to see their ID, is that a correct reaction to everything in world that didn’t go their way. They probably blame mommy and daddy for not having caviar for dinner.

Turning my head towards the clock I see its 7 in the morning. Turning to my right side a woman’s naked body was sprawled eagle, sleeping, face covered by her fire red hair. Black lean body offered full view of her private areas, plump breasts rising and falling as the woman breathed in her sleep. This strange creature took my money and decided to have sex with me, while my ugly ass wriggled on top of her until my eventual sexual demise. Had to pop my cherry at some point, being 30 and still a virgin the woman laughed as I explained that she was my first, soon laughter became a strange look of horror for some odd reason.

She winced when I tried to kiss her.

So I wanted her to relax, shoot me.

I wanted to have fun and at least let her remember my poor ass in some way, laughing at my expense had no real adverse effect on my eventual performance. I have to be clear I do not enjoy being made fun off, but I would to anything to make a scared woman relax in my presence, if that means relinquishing a part of my dignity then so be it, I would gladly offer any amount if it meant that this woman would feel safe in my proximity.

With my clothes on I stumbled into my kitchen and started preparing breakfast. Hard boiled eggs, tuna from a can and coffee to spruce things up in the morning. Entering the bedroom, breakfast already on the counter top that serves as my dining table, woman that had offered her body for my own personal selfish pleasures woke up with a start looking at me with odd mixture of trepidation and carnal amusement. Her breasts were open, perky and standing amazingly tall in attention. I sat near her and covered her exposed flesh with the linen I used to cover my ugly ass at night.

“Miss Jewel breakfast is ready, you can wash yourself in the bathroom, clean towels are there, and your clothes are in the washer. If you could wait for an hour or so I’ll have them cleaned and ready for your use.” I smiled as I stood and exited toward the kitchen.

I ate in silence as several minutes passed, Jewel left the bathroom with a towel around her breasts. She sat in front of me and started to eat, “I usually leave before the guy wakes up. You know to avoid all this shit.”

“I know, I’ve seen the movies and read several books, your job position avoids any sexual romance. Or did I get the whole thing with Nicole Kidman wrong,” she gave me a strange look while she tried to scoop her food with the provided fork.

She shook her head, “Holy shit, talk about being prepared. Why’d you do this? You do realize those things in books and movies are just used to sell them. Nobody acts like that.”

I shrugged my shoulders, “I don’t really socialize as much as I want. The least I could do is see how I should act.”

She scrutinized me for few moments, “It was Julia Roberts, and yes my line of work isn’t rosses and unicorns as she portrayed it to be. Most of my clients have this notion that I search for a sugar daddy that would take care of little ol’ me,” she spoke.

“I assume that you have met clients that have been more than happy to be violent.” I postulated my previous observation of her behavior.

She looked at her plate when I heard a loud ‘breaking news’ voice from the bedroom. Unusually desperate way of saying the words. But what the hell, I thought the past few days weren’t exactly normal.

“Hold that thought Miss.” I said as I stood up and turned the volume of my TV up.

“Reports are coming in from around the area of One street, as well as streets Plumo and Joious of random attacks on law enforcement that had the street barricaded for purposes as they say ‘containing the violence’. For more we go to our EYE in the SKY Mat Dorman. Mat tell us what do you see?!”

Either Mat was inexperienced or he saw a lot of bad stuff, but few seconds of breathtaking visual attacks and mindless violence that played out on TV made me think that he had abandoned his post in the helicopter.

“So far ... I haven’t seen law enforcement succeeding in containing these riots, they are escalating and getting worse by each passing moment, and I have to be frank here, but I have seen police officers shoot civilians that tried to rush the barricade. I ... I can’t explain what happened, I must be crazy because they just kept going and going. Please if you are near the area STAY INSIDE. BARICADE yourselves and wait for police.”

His voice was, scared and desperate. Some people on the TV rose after being shot and started charging at the police who had exited their car by this point. I could clearly see the two policemen shoot everything at them and the people just kept going. The people reached the two men and the image was suddenly cut off to a different view, my city, our city was in flames. Smoke was billowing from random locations. It reminded me of movies. It reminisced me of our civil war. I was a child, a refugee and I remember bits and pieces. But I remember one thing, riots, dead bodies and buildings on fire. I hoped this wasn’t it. I really hope this will pass. I closed my eyes and tried to envision a better tomorrow.

My lady friend was gaping at the TV.

“Jewel are you ok?!” I asked my new friend, she was looking at the TV and silently gasping for air.

“No I have friends out there, many girls that I hope have gotten away, what about you?”

“Nah. All of my family on another continent. I came here to find work.” I didn’t say spent my last dime on her, I had a plan let’s just leave it at that.

“Then you are alone here in this amazing place?” She looked around my apartment.

I sighed. “Yes. I am,” every time I see the price tag on my rent I have a small panic attack, appearances, what can I say. Well I continued swallowing my complaints, “I have no romantic connections though, here or back where I came from. I hoped by living in another city I would gain confidence to at least get some training in and fix my lousy body. Remember you laughed when you saw me strip.” I smiled.

Looking down her feet, “We get warned by our older women that work the streets, that whatever you do, you should NEVER laugh when a male strips. We had many girls beaten to a bloody pulp just for smiling at their package. My heart sank when I did that, I had such a good time that I forgot I was a ... Whore.”

“Good time?” I almost yelled out, I think she still heard me though.

I tried to smile like those handsome guys on TV, “Hey if it matters I strive to make any woman feel good, I search for perfection regarding that aspect, if she returns the favor is up to her.”

God kill me!

“Oh my God. I’m so sorry, you never finished. You even paid money but all I did was pass out,” She sounded apologetic.

“I slept fine! I always finish my sleep so I can work in the morning. Regardless, how about we go out and see if any of your sisters are out and about. Maybe they need help.” I avoided the topic as fast and far as I could.

I’ll be sure to kill myself later on.

Her eyes still looked at me but she never said anything else. Few minutes passed in silence as person on the TV started explaining how the recent riots are all brought about the global warming and political insecurity around North Korea, the President, European Union, blasted gay frogs and one particular lunatic claimed it was all the effect of a hidden black hole. Jesus! The people start smoking too early in the mornings and I’m not talking about the cigars. Nobody wanted to address the crux of the problem. The real essence behind the reason that the riots might have happening right now. I had few philosophical deductions, hypothesis and theories that nobody cared about. How about the recent geological and astrological anomalies that were happening? The media clearly avoided the topic, not even addressing the past week constant tremoring on the neighboring island or the lights that were surrounding the harbor almost every night. My inner monolog ended up silent as Jewel started to exit my bedroom wearing my old clothes.

Good Lord, women don’t know how good they look. In anything. Or is it everything. By this point, if my former experience has thought me anything, women have to be dressed in all manner of clothes. Just to test my theory. Good looking woman can’t look bad in anything. A theory that deserves further testing.

Simple sweat pants and a T-shirt that revealed her plump and perky tits. I hope my visual observation can bring someone joy. I keep telling myself these mind monologs need to stop. But I have no one else to talk to. I had to divert my eyes in search for a new focus of my rekindled passion towards this woman.

My hands were itching. I hoped a repeat of our former exercise. Maybe I could improve.

“I’ll pick up my old ones when they are done washing. Until then let’s go out for a walk, maybe we find out what exactly is happening,” she smiled and her shoulders moved in such a way that her tits were swaying.

Like a gentle breeze.

I locked my door behind us while we started walking towards my car. There was a 20 minute ride to the One Street making twist and turns only a seasoned runner would know, parking in what it seemed abandoned parking lot and resuming the rest of the way on foot. I say this with the outmost respect. People don’t know how good they have it when they constantly live in these pristine cities. Not a pothole in sight. Sure there are few. Between here and my destination there were 2 potholes. I counted. And this cities residens are complaining constantly on those two, saying all kinds of shit. My old town was pothole centrum of the universe. I often joked as my dad would drive over them. Ruining the suspension of four of his cars. I mean, Afganistan didn’t have the holes that we had. Big, bouncy and hard to miss.

We have a running joke, whenever we don’t hit a pothole, “You need to turn back, you missed one,” we’d laugh and laugh not realizing it was slowly eroding our psyche.

But I get it. Give ‘em an inch and they’ll take a mile. You need to react early.

Soon we were in middle of the street; people running past us dirty, bloodied and wounded with expressions on their faces that showed their utter terror and defeat. Shock was painted in their every stride while they mindlessly searched for their presumed destination. I gasped as one woman walked past me bloodied, beaten and dragging her handbag behind her. Her eyes were scary.

We heard shots and screams coming from around the area. Where were they coming from? Both my date and I were reluctant to search and find out, I am not proud of this fact, but pictures on TV videos did not portray the real terror. Seeing people attack and getting attacked was not easy on my stomach. I’m a basement dweller, a keyboard warrior. Not some hero with a cape. Sure I act tough, but I’ll tell you now I’m not.

I yipped as she grabbed my arm and squeezed it tight. I’m not sorry of that fact. I’m petrified. I guess a defensive response to violent imagery that we have seen in the past few minutes. I guess seasoned veterans of various wars would enjoy this feeling, but I was scared silly, every loud noise that occurred in area made me jump out of my shoes. I must say holding a woman’s hand and acting like a pussy is not something anyone wants to do but here I was. Doing it. Only reason why I was not running towards my car and out of this god forsaken place is the woman had my hand in hers. I guess she figured it out, hold me in place and make me stay. Clever.

I’ve red countless books on heroes and damsel in distress. What else could I do? Remember, no friends or socializing skills. Chivalry had rules. Books spoke of it. Damned thing. And unwritten laws on chivalry required I stay beside her and defend her from everything. Including fear itself. Fuck. I’m fucked aren’t I?

Who’s going to protect me?

I guess having a dick qualifies me for war. Especially in these types of situations.

I know. I know. White knights and all that, this day in age everything was viewed with a hint of sarcastic humor. If you were one, you are desperate virgin that wanted sex. IF you weren’t one then you are an asshole that supported racists and their view on the world.

Doomed if you do. Doomed if you don’t. I know I’m picking and choosing, especially thinking, but what else can I do. I tell you what I CAN do. Shake of the hand, push her down and start running towards the car. Ignore her cries and yells for help. But my mind is in resistance about that sort of thing. I know what awaits me when I return. I’ll have sleepless nights, excessive vomiting and her on my soul. And I don’t want it.

I hold her hand tighter to reiterate that I’m not going anywhere, “I’m not going anywhere,” I say; GOD KILL ME.

I just do what I want. Not caring about what people might think, post or say about my own actions towards the ‘weaker’ sex, but still I had viewed everything with certain dose of trepidation. Reading a lot of books about heroes and their exploits, knights in shining armor getting their damsel in distress, always had me living in sort of fantastic worlds of whatever my imagination could create. A mental barrier from all the truth out there. About me as well.

We were standing on a crossroads. Well on a sidewalk, there were debris and two cars parked on the empty street. Further ahead we saw people running into the open store. The stop lights were blinking yellow. We walked slowly, hand in hand, towards the store and people inside. Several of them were busy looking out the other window. They kept whispering among each other.

We came to a loud growling noise from couple of people that stood in the streets. Just standing still and growling. Very strange.

I crushed her hand tightly, and lead her towards one of the open stores. I stood among other people that watched the display with apparent concern. I was standing still among them. A silent observer of the play before me. A strange sense of foreboding suddenly hit me. I held my friend close to my side as I waited for something to happen.

A sudden car crash happened on the other side of the road. The people clearly fighting in one of the cars. The occupants were wearing tattered clothes. What caused them to hit and drag a car so far onto this street is a mystery. The people who stood still just until the cars collided with the steel beams holding the street lights, started waking up with ungodly screams. Their limp limbs dragging behind them they started running towards the man that was trying to leave the second car. The occupants of the other car immediately stopped what they were fighting about. Yelling and screaming like banshees, the people jumped him and started tearing him limb from limb. Blood, guts and screams ensued from the people that were included in the attack.

I honestly, wanted to close my eyes and look away. However, the scene made me look. The blood, the guts, the death screams of someone trying to survive kept me engaged. The visceral nature of us is to look first. Engage second. I looked. I-fucking-watched. Sue me.

Ungodly screams of terror and cries of help made my eyes water and the depths of my soul cringe with tinge of desperation and whole lot of shame. I could help him; I didn’t want to help him. It was easy for me to let my lady friend go and run across the street and smack them with a beam or a plank. But I didn’t. I even have a scenario of what I should do. But I won’t.

I wanted out.

Jewel stared. She laughed. She had pale skin and her hand was cold in as was mine.

She started to cry, then few seconds of laughing. Man behind the counter turned his back and started arranging the shelves like nothing was happening, he was busy cleaning up his store. A man and a woman beside me pretended to talk on the phone. Shock went like a ripple thru the people that were watching this scene.

Blood was flowing like a river as they fed on his flesh. And I still watched. I watched as a woman among them took his stomach out and chewed on it. A blast of bile across her face did nothing to assuage her of further feeding.

Jewel soon started hyperventilating and vomiting her morning breakfast. Holding her shoulders, I calmed her down, once she was finished regurgitating the meal we had, I took her into the store and started to caress her shoulders.

“I’m here, nothing will happen to you,” I hoped I wasn’t lying.

“Mommy please, save me,” She whispered out, but nobody was aware of her cry for help other than me.

I could see in her eyes that she looked at a distance, further than I was. Through me and the store, somewhere violence could not reach. I grabbed her by the head. I could smell traces of vomit but I did not care.

“Focus on me, I am here for you. I will never abandon you. Breathe,” again I hoped I wasn’t lying, my knees were shaking.

What if they suddenly turned their heads towards us and started screaming and hollering?

Taking a bottle of water and making her drink it along with a chocolate bar, I honestly didn’t know what I was doing, but in my youth my mom often gave my sugar water to calm me down if I had a panic attack. She ate small bites of chocolate bar with tiny sips of water. People started to scream and run. Not knowing why, I turned and saw the people that attacked the man standing up bloodied with his body and blood. The people were holding parts of him in their hands and mouths, still chewing on his flesh.

Man died long ago.

When the first people started to run the monsters bolted towards them. Yelling and screeching like banshees the entire way. I was tracking them with fascination and depraved interest. My mind was already wondering what made them tick. I wasn’t caring about the men and women who ran for their lives.

The four women that were left were busy standing and watching. They didn’t run. Staying behind and watching for a way out. The feeders lunged at them and I ran for the door. I had to do something.

Grabbing four women that started to scream and pulling them in the store I closed and locked the door without any reservation of what waited for us inside. Probably the same thing what waited for those men and women that ran. I moved quickly and threw every shelf that was not bolted down, at the glass doors and two windows. They were soon covered up by random thrown items and piles of discarded newspaper. Two stacks of dog food and other shit I could quickly reach.

The store inside was occupied by 5 isles of items and a counter top where the clerk still sat arranged and rearranged items over and over again. Speaking in random words probably his mind eroding away by each passing second. Who knows what was wrong with the guy?

My female friend grabbed my leg while four women stood in a circle around me waiting for their turn their eyes slowly loosing light and any will that they have right now they were willing to hand over to me. I won’t lie it made me feel a tiny bit important. Before I thought what pig I was.

“Ladies please, sit down, relax,” I spoke as gently as I could, “Jewel I need you. Get yourself together and focus on my voice. I know that what you saw was disturbing, but I’m here. And you are still alive,” I remembered the time a grenade landed on my neighbor’s house during the civil war and my mom’s reaction. I especially remember her words.

“What was that? Those screams and voices. How can a man sound like an animal? How?!?!” She was adamant in her search for something that could rationalize the encounter that we just had.

“Jewel please, I need your help. I need you right now,” again I tried to gain some semblance of normalcy.

“Sorry. I don’t think I can handle anything right now,” she was crying.

“You must or you will lose yourself and I won’t be able to help you. You must focus on this moment right now. We will find something to help you later, but right now these women need your help. I’ll be right there, that clerk also needs some help. Please, everybody is in panic or in shock. We need to help each other.” I try to reason with slowly panicking woman.

Her eyes slowly returned their focus, her glow slowly returned, she was no longer a babbling moron that she was few moments ago, I mean no disrespect, but I need her help.

“This way ladies,” she guided the four women and started to occupy their mind with banter about their lives.