Illusionary

A loud thumping, far closer than feels either comfortable or respectful, wakes Felipe with a start. Instantly his heart leaps to his throat for the pounding can only be coming from one place, his door. Eyes dart to and lock on it; he lives in a studio apartment. The man wonders what he should do. Can he run? Where to? How would he get past whoever is on the other side? He hasn’t an answer to any of those questions and many more. Thankfully, his body urges him to get up. He does, with a leap. Scanning around his apartment he tries to think. His eyes fall upon a clock. It reads 3:17am. His brow furrows. He doesn’t remember anything after the water. Not how he got into bed, when, any of it. That worries him. Though, those worries are soon eradicated when a fresh round of bangs are delivered to his door.

Maybe they’ll go away if I stay quiet? Yeah, that should work.

What if they break down the door?

They wouldn’t do that, surely. Would they?

Are you seriously asking if the Constabulary Au Secrecy would break down your door? They took Noah away in broad daylight, that woman on the street too. It’s a purge! They’re culling the workers, those who dare to be vocal. Are you so blind you cannot see it?

I’m not blind!

Then why do you think they won’t break your door down?

Not answering, Felipe instead thinks; I have four locks. I’ll be safe. I simply have to keep quiet. Wait it out. They’ll get bored, move along soon.

Madness! Four locks! What are such simple things against the Constabulary? Nothing! That’s right, they offer no resistance. If they are brazen enough to escort those who speak out in broad daylight they will break down a door of an apartment. You have to run!

Where? I’m on the fifth floor! My front door is the only entry/exit point. I’m trapped.

Then you fight!

With what? How? I’ve never done anything like that.

Yes you have.

When?

You know when, and don’t lie to yourself. I know you know because I am you. What I know you do too. Don’t lie. Don’t pretend.

That was a long time ago, the dark haired man admits to himself.

Stop with your protests. This is a matter of survival, freedom. Later you can…

Enough! I understand.

Jumping from beside his bed across the open living space, Felipe stacks up beside the door. The banging continues to persist. Trying to pull his breathing under control, and failing, the dark haired man prepares for a fist fight. It’s been a long time since he’s been in one. Back before he came to Bannerster. He too, like Noah and everyone else probably, bought into the marketing for the place branded, the city of the future today. It sickens him to think how naïve he’d been to believe such claptrap, but why wouldn’t he? The world had been in chaos, with war having not long ended and whispers of another on the horizon far sooner than anyone had ever wished to believe.

Slowly, carefully, quietly, Felipe retracts the bolts and releases the locks on his front door. He prays whoever is on the other side; constables undoubtedly, do not become aware. If they do his hopes of getting the drop on them will be lost. Rather, they would have the drop on him. At which point there is no question that if that were to happen he would not get out of this… Alive seems like the wrong thing to say, but in many ways it might well be true.

Do it! Do it now!

Wrenching the door open into the apartment, Felipe a split second after jumps out from cover and into the doorway to fight for his life, his freedom.

“Mr Richardson?”

Baffled, Felipe makes no efforts to attack the man stood before him. Perhaps he should, part of him believes as much. Though, whoever this mousy haired man is he definitely is not a member of the constabulary, for he is clad in a similar fashion to Felipe.

“Uuuuuuuuum, yes.” Is the answer given to the unknown man who smiles, evidently humoured by the expression on Felipe’s face as well as by his uncertain reaction.

“We need to hurry, they’ll be here soon. Follow me.”

No context provided and with his mind reeling, Felipe can honestly admit he doesn’t understand what is going on. It’s why he mumbles, “Who will be here soon?”

“The Constabulary. You’re on their list. As am I. So we have to get moving before they find us.”

“I…I…”

“I’ll explain, but not here, or now. This isn’t the place.”

The way the mousy haired man says those suggests they are not his original choice, but rather that a filtered version, used to hide whatever might be the true extent of the situation. At least for the time being it sounds like anyway.

Perhaps Felipe should be wary of this man regardless of how friendly his face is. He isn’t. Something tells him, more suggests, he is trustworthy.

It could be a trap!

Ignoring the suggestion, Felipe closes his door, the man smiles, nods and then leads the way. They quickly reach and begin descending the stairs. They are alone. Felipe wonders if now would be the time to begin his questioning. His conclusion is that it is not for an oppressive weight seems to be bearing down on him. He cannot explain where it is coming from or why he feels it, but it is definitely present.

“You feel that, don’t you? The mass pushing down on you, trying to crush your resistance, make you obey?”

Felipe can scarcely believe the words that have been said by the man for they describe perfectly how he feels and he believed it was all him. If this man feels it to that means it isn’t in his head. Or at least not only his, it could very well be in both of theirs.

“Its how they get you to submit so readily. And normally you wouldn’t feel it but you have to resist it, understand?”

A nod is all the dark haired man can muster. It’s enough for his unnamed compatriot who quickens his pace, taking the stairs two at a time now until they are on the ground floor.

“The street is this way.” Felipe informs wondering why the other man has taken the corridor leading to the back of the building.

“I know, but we can’t go that way.” Is the assurance given.

“Why not?”

No sooner have the words passed his lips then a massive crash fills Felipe’s ears. Instinctively he turns toward the noise, toward the door to the street. In the opening are a mass of constables. The dark haired man does not count them. Rather his eyes go wide, panic fills his chest.

“Run!” Is the cry he hears. He obeys it without question while the constables march through the open doorway givingn pursuit.

Stumbling, Felipe crashes down the corridor. It’s longer than he remembers it being when he’s has not been fleeing for his life but rather going to take his rubbish out to the communal bins which are all that is back there.

So why am I running this way?

There is no reply, no answer. And that silence does nothing to quieten his fears, yet he continues to rush as fast as his legs will allow him. And while he runs for his life the mousy haired man, his new ally, roars that he must hurry.

Felipe is tripped; his body pitches forward, he tries but thinks it too late to recover his balance. He’s right. Luckily he falls through the doorway to the bin room. The mousy haired man slams the door shut behind him. Immediately, banging and demands are issued. They both go ignored as the door is haphazardly barricaded.

In his face Felipe has thrust an open hand. He looks up; the man he doesn’t know the name of is staring down at him.

“We have to hurry. The door won’t hold long.”

“Hurry where? We’ve at a dead-end!” The dark haired occupant of the apartment building exclaims terrified.

Ignoring his words the other man passes Felipe only to wrench open a drain cover.

Unaware of its presence until right this moment, Felipe can manage only to blink in silent shock.

“Down here, now! We are out of time.” As the words leave the mousy haired man’s mouth the door creaks and strains louder than it has thus far in this short period. Soon it will burst.

“Where does it…”

Giving no reply but instead grabbing a hold of Felipe, the man pulls him forward and into the hole. Felipe screams. The man ignores the fearful outburst and jumps into the hole immediately after. Sealing the drain behind him, then jumping from the ladder into the shallow water which Felipe has been drenched by as a result of having been unceremoniously flung headfirst down here.

“You need to explain what…”

“Once we are safe, now run!”

The mousy haired man wastes no time, he breaks into a water splashing sprint. Clearly the water is hampering him for he isn’t making as much ground as Felipe imagined would be possible while he stands there, staring.

His stare is broken when he hears the grating of metal on metal and looks up. The drain cover is moving, though he more hears than sees it because of how dark it is. That is until light from above begins to bleed around the edges of the cover. At such a sight Felipe’s body forces him into action, driving his legs. He too splashes as he awkwardly rushes down the subterranean sewer pipe. He hopes he can stay ahead of the constables and catch-up to his saviour. Otherwise, who knows if he could navigate this place alone? He certainly doesn’t.