The Thief

I duck behind a crumbling wall, dropping to my knees on cold dirt. The sharp edge catches my shoulder, the jagged brick ripping open my skin. Burning pain shoots through my arm, a silent cry squeezing its way through my throat. And that’s all it is: a soundless echo of pain, a reverberation that I refuse to give voice to. I clamp my mouth shut, hoping my moment of shock was inaudible in the night air. The taste of metal– of copper– coats my mouth and I realize I’ve bitten my tongue in the frenzy. I open my mouth again and spit crimson onto the dirt. Cody always said I had the grace of an elephant. Here I am, proving him right. My large belly doesn’t help matters; it is both my greatest blessing and most frequent inconvenience. But I won’t trade my baby for the world and neither will Cody. Despite the fire crackling underneath my skin and inside my veins, I will myself to breathe slowly through my mouth. I’m quieter this way, harder to track down. 

I made sure to cover my tracks when I escaped the citadel, but it was difficult to avoid the mud puddles near the outer rim of the city. I hope they couldn’t see any tracks in the darkness. Only the wealthy can afford fire or lights, and the cost is steep. The death of the sun forced new generations to be born with bigger eyes and better senses. While I can see faint shapes and outlines, I rely mostly on my other senses. I was born into the eternal night, and the absence of the sun is as normal to me as breathing, but that doesn’t mean I want the same for my son.

These soldiers are older and less evolved to the permanent darkness. That’s why, if I can remain quiet, I have a chance of escape. The entrance of the alley will look like nothing more than a shadow on the bricks. The soldiers may be tasked with hunting me and retrieving what I stole, but I know they won’t waste their precious fire to find me. It would cost them more to replace a matchstick than the reward for my capture is worth. If they knew what was in my pocket, though, they would use all the torches in their arsenal. 

I hear hurried footsteps down the street. I press my back onto the brick wall, perhaps hoping to sink into it altogether. My pregnant belly sticks out far, too far. I may as well call out to my pursuers altogether. I turn my body so that my back faces the entrance of the alley. The position is risky. I can’t see anything but the dead end in front of me, although I suppose it won’t matter if they catch me. I am a mouse caught in a trap, and I’m praying for the cat to miss me. I push against the brick until I feel the pressure of a metal canister digging into my hip. I’m not sure what happens if the metal cracks, but I don’t want to risk finding out. As the footsteps– a lethal thunder of raging soldiers– draw nearer, I cease breathing altogether. If they find me, if they notice the tiny alley I’d taken cover in, everything we’d done for the past two years would be for nothing. All the planning, the observing, the fighting… all in vain if I was caught now. 

Flashes of green eyes pull me from my fear. His infectious laugh and his sideways smirk fill my senses. Cody. I have to escape the city for him, for our baby. He already laid out the plan. Now, I just have to follow it. I repeat the plan in my head, focusing only on him as the army gets closer to my position. I squeeze my eyes shut as the stomping grows louder and louder, nearer and nearer. 

And then they pass by, as though they can’t see the alley at all. I don’t feel the heat of torches, either. I was right. I stay in the alley for a few minutes as the army shuffles by, oblivious to the thief only a few feet away. They would kill for the canister in my pocket if they knew what was inside. Cody and I had killed for it. Now, I just have to get to the meeting point and it will all be over. We’ll be free. I wait until the marching is gone entirely. I will not risk a stray guard turning to find me. When I leave the alley, the street is empty once more. I dart across the cobblestone road, cutting across the path I was taking earlier. Cody meticulously crafted our plan, and I’m following it with precision. My heart clenches at the thought of him. He’s still in the citadel, distracting government leaders with that charm of his. They don’t know he’s in on the plan. Hopefully, they won’t discover his betrayal until we’re already beyond the towering walls of the city.

I stumble through the small, humble town, a stark contrast to the towering, glass buildings and crystal chandeliers further south. Once, when the sun still lit up the sky, the citadel may have been beautiful. It is nearly impossible to see it in the dark. Now, it is remembered for its cold cruelty and busy noise. Perhaps the glass buildings are prettier than these wood cottages, but I’ll always associate them with the icy indifference of the government that now hunted me.

I weave through side streets to avoid the market squares. They’re small, but even a few extra people is a risk I’m not willing to take. The path is winding, constantly taking me through narrow passageways. Some are merely cramped, but others force me to enter them backward to avoid crushing my stomach. Narrow, indeed. 

“Almost there,” I dare to whisper. I don’t know if I’m reassuring the baby or myself. The cobble road morphs into a wooded path, the stones fading into the dirt and grass. I stand at the entrance of the northern forest, a few miles from the citadel. I turn, and I can see the large screen above the main tower, a giant square of black that barely stands out from the night sky behind it. They only turn it on when they need to broadcast an important message. Anything else would be a waste of light. I face the woods again, and I can make out a tiny cottage just past the tree line. It’s worn down, the thatched roof caving in on the right side. Whoever lived here before had been gone for a long while. 

Once inside the cottage, I can barely make out shapes. The dim light of the moon doesn’t reach through the trees, and I’m left in pitch black. I feel my way around the room, stumbling into forgotten chairs and a dusty table. Suddenly, a bright light shines through the broken window. The screen above the citadel illuminates the sky. My heart sinks as I see the face displayed for the whole city to see. 

Traitor. Cody Fletcher is executed on charges of treason.

Executed. I can’t breathe. Cody didn’t make it out in time. Those emerald eyes… I’ll never see them again. He’ll never hold me close or brighten my day. He’ll never meet his son. 

I reach into my pocket, pulling out the metal canister. We spent years planning this moment. He is supposed to be here with me. We knew the risks when we started the whole damn thing, but I never expected to lose him. I sink to my knees in the cottage as the light on the screen shuts off. The world was horribly quiet, and dark. So, so dark. 

“You’ll grow up knowing your father did everything for you,” I whisper down to my belly. “This was all for you.” I twist the top of the can open, and sparkling gold washes over me. For the first time in my life, I bathe in the warm glow of real sunlight. We never found out how the government obtained it, but we didn’t care. I am holding the only remnant of our dead star. Hopefully, my son will grow up in a world of light and happiness, and not the cold dark that I am accustomed to. Looking at the golden light, I think of Cody. His smile was just as bright as the sunlight pooling against the metal of the can. I prayed he would watch over the baby and see that our plan worked.