I walk a few steps behind you, a resistor clenched in my sweaty palm. I'm assigned to shutting down the power to this corrupt town. Though the thought of doing that to you stops me. You seem mesmerized by the city lights as you waltz through the crowds. The bustle of the traffic emphasizes your grace. You don’t look back to me, but you probably sense my presence. I laugh. You escaped government facilities; obviously, you know I’m here.
12865 is beautiful at night. The buildings illuminate the streets with artificial light. New York is nothing compared to this. Chin held high, navy blue baseball cap over your ears, you look like everyone else. Your hair is pulled into a sloppy ponytail. Your large, hazel eyes reflect the cityscape as you walk. You turn and glance back. I look behind me. There’s a man wearing headphones with a mic attached. I look back to where you were, but you’re gone.
“What?” Somebody points to the side of a hotel complex. You are leaping up balconies, scaling the thirty-one-story building like a staircase. I glance toward the man. He doesn’t see you.
You are a silhouette in the dim moonlight. I wander into the crosswalk to see you. I bite my tongue as you race to the edge of the building, lunging to the next rooftop. A car honks at me, snapping me away from you. I scurry to the other side of the street, frantically looking for you in the haze of artificial light against the night. I can’t see you.
The lights around me dim to murky grays, and the roar of the crowd fades to a hum. I watch the man glance around, shrug and turn away. Fear wells up inside me. Tears well up in my eyes. My steps feel heavy, my head light. The sidewalk warps underneath me. I slump onto a wall, waiting for the woozy feelings to subside. I close my eyes and bite my lip, trying not to cry.
I think back to earlier this week. I stood at the door of your holding cell, watched you leap from wall to wall. You’d done that for hours each day you’d been here. Why are you here? You did nothing wrong; you’re different. Not quite human. I bit my lip. There’s no reason for you to be here. I have enough power to free you. But you may be dangerous. I could get caught. I shook my head and left you vaulting from cement walls.
I walked by your cell the next day, peeked in. You stared at me, eyes pleading. I stepped back and saw a sign taped to the door: Do Not Feed. Testing date: 987:237:01. I looked in the peephole; you looked miserable. How long until 237:01? . . . Oh. It’s tomorrow. You turned away and punched the wall. Maybe you thought you could break the cage, but you just tore skin.
Later that day, I walked to your locker, your picture flashing on the screen. I opened it and removed a jacket and navy cap. Is that all you had on you? I stuffed them in my bag. I crept out of the room. Shoot. There are cameras. If I go through with this, then they’ll see the footage . . . Unless I make it seem like I was being framed. I smirked. Easy.
I walked into your cage and handed you the clothes. “I trust you know why I’m giving you these.” You nodded. “I’m unlocking the door three minutes after I leave. The government will try to shut off all power when you’re missing. You have ten minutes before all power goes out here, two days before the whole city’s out. Transportation is impossible after the electricity is gone. Hide your ears. Get out . . . I’ll keep an eye out for you. You shouldn’t be here.”
I’m back on the sidewalk. When I open my eyes, I don’t see my shoes. I blink. A navy blue baseball cap drapes over my sneakers. Carefully I pick it up and stare at the old fabric. Strands of fur cling to the inside. I smirk a little. You’re still a cat at heart. I slip the cap on, trudging back to my cubicle.
The bustling city fades as I walk further from 12865. I realize the resistor is still clenched in my hand. Your cat eyes flash in my mind, mischievous, bewitching. I let a tear trickle down my cheek. What were you to me? Why do you matter to me? Is it because you’re catlike? Do I pity you? Maybe I’m just inspired by you. The only thing I know is I miss you.
The world still shifts under my feet. I can’t stop this. I take the battery out of the resistor and crush it in my fist. The metal slips through my fragile skin, but I feel nothing. I reach the doorway to my cubicle, opening the keypad. The door slides open with a soft hiss. Gotta get that fixed. I step inside and trudge straight to bed. I close my eyes, expecting dreamless sleep.
“Wake up, sleepyhead.” I blink away my drowsiness. Hazel eyes stare straight into mine. I scramble backward, gasping. Your fuzzy ears perk up. “You have something that’s mine. I would appreciate it back so I can leave this doomed city.”
12865 is beautiful at night. The buildings illuminate the streets with artificial light. New York is nothing compared to this. Chin held high, navy blue baseball cap over your ears, you look like everyone else. Your hair is pulled into a sloppy ponytail. Your large, hazel eyes reflect the cityscape as you walk. You turn and glance back. I look behind me. There’s a man wearing headphones with a mic attached. I look back to where you were, but you’re gone.
“What?” Somebody points to the side of a hotel complex. You are leaping up balconies, scaling the thirty-one-story building like a staircase. I glance toward the man. He doesn’t see you.
You are a silhouette in the dim moonlight. I wander into the crosswalk to see you. I bite my tongue as you race to the edge of the building, lunging to the next rooftop. A car honks at me, snapping me away from you. I scurry to the other side of the street, frantically looking for you in the haze of artificial light against the night. I can’t see you.
The lights around me dim to murky grays, and the roar of the crowd fades to a hum. I watch the man glance around, shrug and turn away. Fear wells up inside me. Tears well up in my eyes. My steps feel heavy, my head light. The sidewalk warps underneath me. I slump onto a wall, waiting for the woozy feelings to subside. I close my eyes and bite my lip, trying not to cry.
I think back to earlier this week. I stood at the door of your holding cell, watched you leap from wall to wall. You’d done that for hours each day you’d been here. Why are you here? You did nothing wrong; you’re different. Not quite human. I bit my lip. There’s no reason for you to be here. I have enough power to free you. But you may be dangerous. I could get caught. I shook my head and left you vaulting from cement walls.
I walked by your cell the next day, peeked in. You stared at me, eyes pleading. I stepped back and saw a sign taped to the door: Do Not Feed. Testing date: 987:237:01. I looked in the peephole; you looked miserable. How long until 237:01? . . . Oh. It’s tomorrow. You turned away and punched the wall. Maybe you thought you could break the cage, but you just tore skin.
Later that day, I walked to your locker, your picture flashing on the screen. I opened it and removed a jacket and navy cap. Is that all you had on you? I stuffed them in my bag. I crept out of the room. Shoot. There are cameras. If I go through with this, then they’ll see the footage . . . Unless I make it seem like I was being framed. I smirked. Easy.
I walked into your cage and handed you the clothes. “I trust you know why I’m giving you these.” You nodded. “I’m unlocking the door three minutes after I leave. The government will try to shut off all power when you’re missing. You have ten minutes before all power goes out here, two days before the whole city’s out. Transportation is impossible after the electricity is gone. Hide your ears. Get out . . . I’ll keep an eye out for you. You shouldn’t be here.”
I’m back on the sidewalk. When I open my eyes, I don’t see my shoes. I blink. A navy blue baseball cap drapes over my sneakers. Carefully I pick it up and stare at the old fabric. Strands of fur cling to the inside. I smirk a little. You’re still a cat at heart. I slip the cap on, trudging back to my cubicle.
The bustling city fades as I walk further from 12865. I realize the resistor is still clenched in my hand. Your cat eyes flash in my mind, mischievous, bewitching. I let a tear trickle down my cheek. What were you to me? Why do you matter to me? Is it because you’re catlike? Do I pity you? Maybe I’m just inspired by you. The only thing I know is I miss you.
The world still shifts under my feet. I can’t stop this. I take the battery out of the resistor and crush it in my fist. The metal slips through my fragile skin, but I feel nothing. I reach the doorway to my cubicle, opening the keypad. The door slides open with a soft hiss. Gotta get that fixed. I step inside and trudge straight to bed. I close my eyes, expecting dreamless sleep.
“Wake up, sleepyhead.” I blink away my drowsiness. Hazel eyes stare straight into mine. I scramble backward, gasping. Your fuzzy ears perk up. “You have something that’s mine. I would appreciate it back so I can leave this doomed city.”
To read Part Two, please click here.